Walking Home

When I made my first flower pots 🌻🌸 I was so proud! Look at these lovely pieces of eye candy.

I didn’t know anything about gardening or flowers. I watered the pots and they stayed lovely for a period of time. Then they would die and I believed I didn’t know how to keep them alive. I just wasn’t good at it.

A few summers of this and the belief got stronger.

One summer, I’ll guess 2002. my auntie came to stay with us. My flowers were never so beautiful. YES!! I have nailed it! I CAN grow flowers 🤩🥳

Looking out the window one morning, I see my auntie picking away at my flowers. My beautiful flowers 🌸- Auntie don’t! Auntie what are you doing?!

Because clearly I am a flower Gardner extrodinare now!! And she’s gonna muck around in there and f)&&@ them up.

She just poked her way around the pots and said “Dear” followed by her beautiful soulful laugh, that has a bit of crackle to it from her smoking years. “I am deadheading them.”

What in the sam hell is she talking about? I am a flower pot queen extrodinare or am I? I have never heard this term before and I have no idea what she even means.

She was probably laughing at me all the way down to her toes. Auntie was a teacher by profession. She loved me with that big heart of hers that was wrapped in her tiny spit fire body. She explained to me that you have to take the dead blossoms off your plants so the plants energy can focus on new growth rather than on resurrecting the dead blossoms.

Huh?

Turns out that Deadheading flowers refers to removing the dead bulbs and foliage from your flowers so the healthy parts of your plant can grow.

Read that again.

The old girl strikes again with an educational moment. If she were here with us today we would still be laughing about the “deadheading day”.

Auntie gave me a few gifts in that lesson.

When I plant a flower pot, I think of her every time and that makes me smile. I am excited to see how the flowers will grow and what they will do.

When I deadhead, I think of her every time. Like we are doing it together, side by side having a little visit.

The lesson has a deeper gift. If you don’t deadhead yourself, your body, your soul, your energy, your space- then you can’t grow. Every blossom serves a purpose, in a time, in a place. They bring happiness and joy. Once the flowers wither, they are not moving forward. So we need to let things go to clear the space for new joys so we can keep moving forward.

Focus on the important things in your world and remove the mediocre. Take care of yourself, set your buckets down. Go for that walk, eat those vegetables, stop behaviours that are harmful to your well being, clean up that pile of stuff, remove people and habits who don’t add value to your well being.

We have but one life. Take time for you.

Thank you for the lessons Auntie ❤️💎

This weekend marked the 24 year anniversary of my dads death. If he or I crossed your mind this weekend, this is probably why.

On Friday I felt so anxious. I chalked it up to a late night with friends the previous night and not getting enough sleep. I happened to glance at the calendar after work to then see that Saturday was a death anniversary. Oh…. There it is…. Explains the weirdness of the day, the stomach upset and chest pains for the entire week.

I got through the day Saturday just fine. I was wanting to do a cemetery visit but it’s just too wet yet, so I adjusted my sails. My weekend was good and I feel amazing tonight.

I could tell you stories for days about my dad. Good thing as I might need blog material as our walk home together continues! I know that many of my readers could also tell stories for days. It’s just who he was.

On todays story time, I am taken back to the winter of 1987/1988. I am learning to drive!!! And I am not good at it!!!! Never haven driven anything but a bicycle…. A car was a challenge for me.

After Ivy granted me my learners permit, Victor says – hell no, you won’t be driving with anyone anywhere until you pass my test.

Oh….. good….. sounds like a time coming ahead.

Get ready readers…… for driver training by Victor.

It’s night. Winter. Dark. He says we are going on his road test. I’m in the drivers seat, he’s in the passenger seat, my boyfriend is in the backseat.

Ok

First stop is the Tisdale Hotel for a case of beer, Labatts Lite, bottles. He gets in the car and says “these are not for you”. Hilarious Victor….. At 15 in the car with my dad I would have assumed those were not for me. Also – I’m kinda thankful to know this isn’t a drunk driving test 😂

We head out of town on the highway south, then we hit the backroads. He grew up here so he knows every one. We do curves and washboard and ice and snow and gravel. He says when to stop and when to go, where to turn. It’s dark and I don’t know the roads, I’m nervous and I cry a few times. He isn’t phased by my tears. He drinks his beers and throws his bottles out the window and guides me on my training for hours.

And…. I start to forget about all the things that worry me about driving and I just drive. This is fun!! Actually so fun!!

He says – ok we can go home now. He does not tell me how to get home, but somehow I figure it out.

Good job girl, you passed my test! Now you can drive my vehicles.

But….. seems he left a bottle under his seat.

And my mom found it when she started on her drive to work the next morning.

So….. I wouldn’t be driving her car anytime soon because she does not believe in drinking and driving even if I wasn’t “doing it”. And my dad needs to learn to grow up.

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

It’s a fun memory for me for sure.

Did he leave the beer under the seat just to get my moms dander up? Yes I am sure he most definitely did. Because he was Victor, unbelievable and definitely unforgettable ❤️

Thanks for the driving lessons Dad!

I came across an interesting short read this week and I wanted to share it with you.

Anger is suppressed grief

Overreacting is suppressed grief

Irritability is suppressed grief

Hypersensitive and being on high alert and always preparing for the worst is suppressed grief

Grief is a necessary process for any trauma or loss that happened to you. It is not just reserved for death of someone close to you.

I’ve been preparing for the worst since 1996 when my brother committed suicide. I mean I have had my running shoes near since then just in case I gotta get going to save someone or fix something or prevent an earthquake. That’s just too long to be trying to control every outcome of everything so it isn’t “the worst”. I’m tired and guess what? I’m not prepared for the worst or the best, I have just invested a huge amount of energy and time into anxiety. It has made me a little crazy.

Unresolved grief is cumulative and cumulatively negative, It seeps into all the parts of our well-being and it affects every relationship you have. It has a long term unhealthy impact on your capacity for happiness.

I have been so busy being busy for 25 years and distracting myself from my own self, I have theoretically boxed all my grief up and put it in the closet to deal with another day. I didn’t even realize I had done this because I didn’t know any different. I was just surviving.

I made choices in my life without even realizing it – to surround myself with people who would take care of all my decisions. People with strong personalities that then allowed me to be a follower. I would eat what someone else liked to eat, drink what someone else liked to drink, go where someone else wanted to go, like who someone else liked. I hid behind them.

I didn’t have to unbox the grief if everyone around me wasn’t supportive in seeing that ugly truth and emotion unpack. And during this time I lost who I was but it was easier to do this than to be who I was – the girl who’s brother committed suicide and then the girl who’s dad died and then her mom too. Cause who even was that girl? I didn’t know her either.

I “ran” from grieving the loss of my brother because I wasn’t in a space where it was accepted to just grieve and “be”. I was rushed through it and there were expectations to return to normal and I wasn’t ready. And I just kept this same pattern throughout any trauma that came in my path.

I knew every time that I wasn’t ready. It can be difficult to stand up for yourself and tell people what you need because you don’t really know what that is. For me it was just easier to do what I perceived to be expected from those around me.

Act ok and you’ll be ok. It’s not true, because grief waits for you.

I had a friend write to me after one of my blog entries. Her words were so raw and truthful so I want to share some of them with you.

“Society doesn’t let us grieve the way we need to – just being, feeling, in the moment, feeling all of the raw emotion and being able to express it without feeling shame or guilt that our own expression will somehow make someone else feel something they shouldn’t, as if they hadn’t felt it all along. Society wants us to put it on full display, but appropriate, for everyone at the funeral but when that’s over, it’s over. Push it down, everything goes back to normal now. You go back to work, you look after your children, you get the groceries and drive the car, but if you have to feel, you cry alone in the shower so you don’t burden anyone else.”

When I received this message, I felt great love for her and then my thoughts said – so it’s not just me, what I’m feeling and learning is normal. It’s time to normalize the process for everyone.

It is ok not to be ok at anytime.

You might not have to clean out that closet where you put your box of grief today or tomorrow or in 5 years, but the day does when you have to unpack it. It waits for you.

When you are in a safe space that allows you to be yourself, even when you don’t know who that is, your messy box of grief will unpack however it is meant to unpack. I am in that space now, where I can just “be” and I can figure out what kind of coffee I like and what kind of wine tastes best to me and I can love just being at home. I can cry all day if that’s what I need on any day.

I am learning to feel and let your emotions process when they want to. Every tear you pushed down will come out when you let it and it heals you each time.

There is no rush to get back to a “normal” life following any type of loss. We have a longing for things to feel as they did before the loss and so does everyone around us.

What if we just let ourselves grieve? Feel the feelings, sit with them and let them do their thing and let that be a good part of us. Sit with your loss, understand why it hurts and why it matters. Let the magnitude of the loss to you decide how long the timeline will be for you to heal.

Trauma creates change you don’t choose. I think healing is about creating the change you do choose.

I believe in divine intervention. Well that is what I call it. You might have another name for it.

I believe that you don’t meet anyone by accident and that everything happens the way it should in its right time.

Maybe it is God just doing his thing, following out his plan, but calling on us to participate in it. Maybe it’s the universe and the energy in it that pulls and pushes us where we need to be.

Coincidence? Accident? Twist of fate? Faith?

Maybe it is a little if all of these.

When I was 12 my second cousin died in a motorcycle accident. This was my first memory of an experience with death. I was on a trip to Alaska with my parents, brother, grandparents and uncle. What is a significant memory from this time was my grandma explaining to me how there is a book written for our life and we don’t know what’s in it, so we take the good with the bad and we don’t get to choose it. It is what it is. When I asked her if God wrote the book, she said “oh I think so”.

Is there a book out there somewhere? Who’s book is it? Do we write it for ourselves in the life we live or is it someone else’s book and we are the characters in it?

I do place much of my energy on figuring this out.

Just keep swimming.

I am compelled to share a moment of my moms passing with you. Because when I think of divine moments and time, this experience is right up there at the top.

My auntie M had lost her mother prior to my moms passing. Auntie came to visit mom often in palliative care, usually in the evening but not every day. She and mom were very close friends and had shared a lifetime together. During one visit, auntie shared with me that she had not been present when her own mom passed and how hard that was on her. I could tell it was a very heavy weighted blanket for her.

Auntie was with us the night my mom passed away. She was holding her hand and was able to help set her free.

There is something about this part of my moms walk home that is so significant to me still all these years later.

Of course if you haven’t experienced this you may not understand how significant that moment was. I am not happy my mom died, but I can find much peace and joy every time I think of this moment. I am so very thankful for it.

This book of life – did it write auntie in to be there on that day at that time? Or was my moms energy drawing her there? Or did God believe it be the right time for the two of them to experience this gift?

I always say you gotta wear the shoes before you get it. But……. Maybe you have……

Have you ever been in the right place at the right time? Where you met someone who changed your life? Or you got to experience something you never planned for? Or have you had a narrow “miss” where you were running late and it turned out that saved your life?

I don’t know if my grandma was onto something with this book she spoke of or if that was just the words that came to her in the moment.

I don’t know how it works, but I’m certainly curious about it……. 😊

It has been nearly 24 years since my dad died. Seems like a full lifetime ago. Yesterday a customer at work saw my name plate and asked me if I was Victor’s daughter. Yes! Yes I am. Thank you Susan for remembering him.

It is hard to put into words how it feels to loose a parent.

It’s hard because….. it’s hard.

My dad, he was my person. I’m a tough one to get to know and he knew me best.

I attended post secondary in Moose Jaw. My first year when I would come home for a visit, I would have a tough time leaving. Anxiety at the max level and after packing up my car I would often sit in it and cry. My dad would pop in the passenger seat and sit with me until I had settled down and was ready to hit the road. No words said, just time spent and it made me feel better.

A large portion of my strength to do “day to day things” came from my dad. I was 24 when he passed. And yes I know that is a “full on” adult. I also know that day to day things were very hard when he was gone.

It’s hard…. because it’s final.

After my brother passed, dad called me everyday. And yes it would sometimes get on the annoying side and yes I was not always patient. This is because I had not worn his shoes and at 24, I was a bit self centred.

Each time he called I would always ask “what are you doing?” To which he would always reply “talking to you” 😂 every single time. One day he brought over a little yellow Smiley face sticker 🙂 and placed it on the handset of my landline phone. When I asked what it was for – he said so I would remember to be happy rather than miserable when I answered the phone. Ok point taken. Thanks Dad.

It’s hard because…. you don’t get those chats ever again.

The day of the sticker – it seemed so insignificant at the time.

Times like the day of the sticker is what I mean when I say he was part of my “day to day”. You know I think of that smiley face sticker to this day before I answer a call.

It’s hard….. because it’s permanent.

How do you life without your parent? I know people do it, I don’t think people like to talk about how hard it is. When I get a little lost, I still look for that guidance. And when the day is quiet I can find it. It comes to me in thought, or in words from someone who reaches out. It’s funny how that works. Thanks Dad.

The last time I saw my dad, I had been walking by my parents house and stopped to say goodnight. He came outside to see Teigan and I and told me I better get that baby home cause it was too damp to be out with her. Ok point taken. Thanks Dad.

My heart says to remind you that you don’t ever know what tomorrow will bring. So make today count. But I also know you can not fully comprehend what I mean if you haven’t lost a parent.

Its hard because…. at times you are so overwhelmed you aren’t functioning well.

I think maybe for a time, sadness becomes a place to go when you want to tap into those memories and feelings of loosing your parent.

It’s hard because… because you are grieving the parent you lost but also grieving the future and what may have been.

I wonder often what life would have been like if he didn’t die. My girls grew up not knowing him at all and really kinda just sucks. Someone so significant to me that they will only “know” in small pieces through their genetics. Teigan has some of his facial features and Makenna has his twinkly eyes and so much of his sass.

It’s hard because…… I know that it is what it is and that if it could have happened any other way, it would have.