It's a 'Walter' kind of day ...

I went to bed last night feeling grumpy ... I woke up today feeling grumpy ... and the last couple of hours, including coffee hasn't helped my mood very much ...

I'm having a Walter kind of day!!! (for those unfamiliar with the mug pictured above, Walter is a comedic creation of ventriliquist Jeff Dunham.)

And today I feel more like Walter than I care to admit ...

The reasons for my mood are wide ranging and diverse ... and I know the only solution is time ...

But it doesn't make it any easier.

The last 18 months of my life have been marked with a variety of struggles and losses that in turn have given rise to grief and sorrow that has left me in an interesting and fascinating place. I can see intellectually WHY I am suffering from various moods and feelings, I can even identify resources that record EXACTLY what it is that I'm feeling and some of the possible reasons for it - but where my intellect fails miserably, is in recognizing that affairs of the heart and soul are things we must live through regardless of what the brain is saying ...

So I can see what's going on, and as I've observed a thousand times in the last year and a half - I can't do a sweet damned thing about it, except hang on and ride the wave!!!

While part of me wishes I could simply skip over ALL of this, another part of me knows that I must journey through this and from that journey I will not only find wholeness and healing, I will be stronger and better equipped to face whatever life may toss my way ... I want to skip over this stuff because it is SO hard some days, and I really do hate having a "Walter" kind of day ...

Alas, such is the vagaries of life ... and fortunately tomorrow is another day ...

I'd rather be ATV'ing ...

I'm sitting in my office getting caught up on paper work, computer updates, newletters and a variety of other things that had slipped to the bottom of the pile ... while I value a grey, rainy day as much as the next person to finally tackle the ever growing '2 Do' list that seems to be an inevitable part of ministry, I would by far rather be doing something else ...

I would love to be out in the Bush ATV'ing, and exploring more of the 59 acres that Scott dearly loved, and that I have come to appreciate more and more each time I spend time there ...

I would love to be home curled up on the bed reading one of the many books that are in the pile of 'to read' selections on the floor beside the bed, or down in my study ...

Or, I would love to just be sitting listening to the rain patter down with a mug of tea ...

I think one of the reasons for this laissez faire attitude has been the updating of the Church Webpage, and the inevitable look back that happens when you edit and change something that has been untouched for over six months !! You begin to think about ALL the things that have happened since you last visited, and you begin to wax a tad nostalgic about what has gone on ...

I found myself looking back, not only over the last six months, but over the last year and a bit that have elapsed since I arrived here ... I have often used Dickens' opening line from 'A Tale of Two Cities' when I pen my year end reflection for the AGM reports as minister. But looking back on 2011, I can't help but think that for the first time those words "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times ..." ring far too true.

There are moments lately when I feel overwhelmed with sadness at the realization that Mom and Scott are gone, and I am left to clean up what remains of their earthly legacy.

Some days are easier than others, while some days are incredibly hard just to get through ... Over the last ten months (and yes, it is hard to believe it has been THAT long), I have had good days and bad days and everything in between. I have wanted to pick up the phone and ask mom something, or share a bit of good news with her, and I've struggled with feelings of anger at the realization that I can't do that any more ...

I miss them. I miss Mr Baumbach, and I miss Indigo ... losing the four of them in such short order made for a hard start to 2011, and I still struggle to make sense of it all.

Intellectually, I know ALL of this is a normal part of the journey ... but it is in moments like this that my heart and my head are on two very different planes. And when that happens, I would rather be off doing something like ATV'ing in the Bush, exploring the beautiful corner of creation that Scott wisely bought some 20 years ago and has left for us as his legacy and his gift ...

43 Years Ago ...

This week in York Region, family, friends and fellow officers will gather to say farewell to Constable Styles, who died on duty this past week ...

I've thought of his children frequently in the last few days ... I know too well the journey they are about to embark upon. Like them, I was too young to know my Father when he fell on duty on June 29th 1968 ... he would be known to me through the stories and recollections of others who shared their memories with me over the years ... I never knew my Dad, but I grew up knowing that I missed him, and that I had missed out on a special man ...

My Dad was, like Constable Styles a hero before the accident that claimed his life, and remained a hero subsequent to his death ...

There is much about Dad I wish I could have known ... I wish I could have heard his laughter, felt his touch, head his voice, shared a beer with him, and enjoyed the many things that gave him joy in his life, beginning with his family ...

Forty Three years ago this week Constable Samuel Ankenmann died while on duty with the OPP, and today for the first time, I am alone in missing him ... I hope the journey ahead is different for the Styles children. I know they will get more support and help than Scott and I ever got - from help to go to school, through to more than an occassional visit from the detachment commanding officer, the children of fallen officers are not forgotten in the same way Scott and I were ... we were simply a statistic after a few years ...

Fortunately this is NOT something that will happen to the Styles children, and for that I am grateful ... losing a father is hard enough, but struggling day after day, year after year with no help and little support tears away at you ... and my brother and I both experienced this in our lives ...

Time heals all wounds ... but sometimes it takes a LONG time to heal ...

Trying ...

I've wanted to blog ... I've been trying to blog ... but over the last couple of months I've honestly struggled with what I could offer here ...

I don't want this blog to become an introspective and maudlin place full of sad postings about how I'm feeling and how much I miss my Mom and my brother, and grieve thier passing ... and so, I often forego coming here and posting anything ... I'm still grieving and still struggling, and that shouldn't surprise anyone. Afterall, I've often counselled families in grieve with the teaching drawn from our Jewish brothers and sisters, that it takes a year to feel somewhat normal.

In the many resources I've read over the last two decades on death and grief, I've read over and over how the Jewish customs of mourning last for over a year, with requirements to honour and respect the breadth of feelings that accompany the mourner. I get it in a real way today ...

Overall, I'm doing okay ... most days I can do what needs to be done, and face the world ... but some days I feel more like crawling into bed and letting the world pass me by.

There is seldom a day that goes by wherein I don't think of Mom, Scott, Mr Baumbach, Indigo, and how much I miss each of them ... it's been a hard year thus far ... but I also trust AND BELIEVE that it will get better. Such is the promise of the Resurrection!

Frequently I find myself lapsing into silence ... preferring to just stand present in the moment and let both the past and the future go ... instead of experiencing the acuteness of missing my family, I find myself surrounded by thoughts and memories of the journeys we've shared, and the happenings that marked our lives together, and in spite of my sorrow I can smile and remember ...

As one of my favourite funeral readings reminds us: memory is a powerful thing ... those we remember are never really gone, their presence is still felt among us ...

Most of my days lately are taken up trying to keep up with work, life, and family ... and scattered throughout the day are memories and their powerful recollection of lost loved ones who are gone, but not really forgotten ...

As Forrest Gump would say (for the moment) "that's all I have to say about that!"

Dayenu!

Open the flood gates ...

Hmmm ... I can point to a dozen or more cars and trucks in this picture and tell you what kind it is, whether it is a hot wheels or a matchbox, and whether I or my brother had it ... and I might be able to tell you EXACTLY where it is right now ... such is the legacy of our childhood and the many hours we both spent playing with our matchbox, hot wheels, corgi and other cars along with our lego cities ...

Neither Scott or I really left our hot wheels behind ... Scott amassed an impressive and formidable collection in the years since we left our childhood behind. The dozens of tiny cars and trucks still on their cardboard backings may represent an wise investment on his part.

Today though, as I was wondering through a Zellers store, finding myself in the aisle lined with dozens upon dozens of these little cars left me teary-eyed ... for the last twenty years or so, every time I found myself in front of the hot wheels display I would look for interesting cars that I could buy for myself, or buy to send to Scott. Over the years the kids and I have sent many cars to Uncle Scott for his birthday and for Christmas ...

Today as I stood in front of the display I found myself crying ... learning about Indigo's untimely passing contributed to my feelings, but I know it was simply a natural extension of ALL I've been through ... and I don't really care ... sometimes when tears come, you just have to let them flow, and today standing in front of the hot wheels display was one of those moments ...

Good Bye my friend ...

Today started with a "disturbance in the force" for lack of a better word ... I wanted to go to Stratford but something was telling me not to go ... so, I went and got a coffee and drove to Owen Sound instead ... I stopped to chat with a colleague and friend along the way, and as I got back into the car I got a text telling me that Indigo Sweetwater, a friend, a mentor and an incredible person had died ...

Indigo and I didn't always see eye to eye, and her propensity to tell it like she saw it, and say what was on her mind regardless of the consequences was at times uncomfortable, but her counsel was always timely, seldom wrong and usually ignored at one's peril ... she was above all else and amazing friend.

My strongest memory of her was from our time in Bella Coola while she was serving as the community health nurse on reserve ... she would stroll in the back door with panache saying I'm here for lunch darling!! What are we having?"

That was how Indigo lived her life ... on her terms, and without apology. And you had to love her for it ... actually you didn't have to love her for it ... she didn't care one way or another - she didn't care if you liked her or not ... she liked herself and that was ALL she needed ... that and her family, especially her partner David ... who is missing her terribly today.

I can't even begin to put into words the sorrow I feel today at learning that Indigo is gone ... on one level it simply adds to the losses I've experienced in recent weeks, but on another level, this is simply too much to bear ... Indigo was an amazing person, an awesome nurse, and an incredible friend ... she will be missed by her son Yancey, her partner David and a circle of friends that stretches far and wide ...

Rest in peace my friend ... today my tears are for you and the end of an incredible legacy that you've left those of us blessed to know and love you ... Good Bye Indigo - you WILL be missed !

For another tribute to this amazing woman -(click here) The Blog 'The House' has two entries about Indigo ...

I miss him ...

Last week I had a dream that I went to Mom's to continue cleaning and sorting there, and when I walked into the kitchen Scott was standing there ...

"What the hell have you been doing?" he asked, looking at the piles of papers, letters, recycling and so on that covers the table and counters.

I replied to him, "What are you talking about? You died ..."

Scott laughed and said he had faked his death, and explained that he wanted to just get away from everything ...

I didn't know whether I wanted to hug him, or kill him (again) ... we sat down and talked about things, and tried to figure out what to do next now that he was 'back' ... I woke from the dream chuckling, but at the same time wishing desperately that it could be true, and that the last few weeks would be a bad, bad, bad dream ...

As I lay in the pre-dawn darkness I was overwhelmed by the realization that it hasn't been a dream, and that I wasn't going to find him standing in the kitchen asking "what the hell have you been doing?" (although, I pretty much hear him asking me that anytime I do ANYTHING out at his bush, or in his room ... but that's another issue !)

This past weekend, Ms H. and her friend from Brandon went to the bush with me so we could check on things and have a look around ... I stood on the balcony of the shop and looked off down the trail and wished that I could see Scott ... in my mind's eye, I can picture him walking the trail, a black toque perched on his head, his beloved rottweilers thundering through the brush and leaves, tumbling and playing as he yells at them "hey, what are you doing?" and laughs as they rumble towards him, tails wagging with happiness ... When I stand in the bush, I can almost feel Scott's presence ... it was where he was happy and content ... it was his sanctuary and in many respects, his home ...

I miss him ... but I'm glad I have some good memories to recall when I walk through the bush, and stand on the trails that for the last twenty years he cherished ... Scott might be gone from our sight, but he is not gone from our hearts and memories ... I sense him in the crunch of leaves under foot, and the rustle of the wind through the tree branches overhead ... he will always been part of his beloved bush, and for that I am very thankful !!

Snow ... Flowers ... Life ...

The other night I finally moved the wilting and browning bouquet of flowers from Scott's memorial outside with the intention of putting them in the backyard compost bin. They got as far as the back porch because I just didn't feel like walking through the maze of dog poop in the dark backyard. I opted instead to wait to deposit the flowers and greenery in the bin the next morning ...

The day began yesterday with a fairly significant dump of snow, that blanketed everything, including the flowers, with a thick layer of fluffy white flakes (hopefully the last of the season!).

When I went out the door yesterday, I didn't pick up the vase and bouquet to carry it to the compost bin, but instead pulled out my cell phone and snapped a picture of it ... in many ways the flowers embody what I've been feeling lately.

I've described my brain as pudding ... it has been almost four months since I picked up a book and read more than a page or two ... I have had a '2 Do' that seems to keep growing rather than shrinking ... and most days I find it challenging just to get through it ...

The interesting thing for me is to KNOW intellectually that all of this is normal - I can at times even cite the exact place in the journey that I am from the many resources I've used over the last twenty years of ministry - but internally, it matters not a whit. My heart and mind are on two different pages, and all the knowledge about grief and the journey I've been on doesn't help me in the moment.

Most days, I feel just like these flowers ... I'm wilted and a bit tired while the cold and snow that has fallen around me has masked some of the brown and wilted bits, while creating something else that is beautiful in its own way ... I miss my Mom and my brother dearly ... I wish I could pick up the phone when it rings and hear the familiar voice that says "It's your mom ..." or hear Scott teasing those around him with a light-hearted "tee hee" ... I yearn to turn back the hands of time and undo the losses that I've experienced in the last three months ...

Yet, I know that grappling with these loses necessitates letting go and being present to the moment, knowing that in time the hurt will lessen ... but the tension between my intellectual understanding of this journey and my emotional experience is a challenge ... And it is a challenge that is heightened by the Liturgical Lenten Journey that marks this season in the Church Calendar.

My Lenten Journey began weeks earlier than the traditional 40 days that mark the distance between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday ... Lent is about preparing for the Resurrection that comes with dawn on Easter Sunday, a resurrection that embodies and embraces the fullness of God's Grace and Love in our lives ... Lent is about preparing by plunging into the deep dark corners of our lives and our world, and wrestling with issues of life and death knowing full well that we are never separated from the love and presence of our God, no matter how alone we might feel.

I also know my Lenten Journey will continue on long past the discovery of the empty tomb on Easter morning ... it may take months or even years to find an equilibrium for the broken heartedness that I feel ... and today, as I reflect on the last few weeks, I can say with certainty that this is okay ... there are no quick fixes, there are no easy answers, there is no magic wand that can be waved to lessen the pain or miraculously heal the hurts ... it takes time ... one step, one moment, one breath at a time ...

I've long counseled people facing crisis, loss, death or traumatic events, to stay present to the moment and not rush through to a place of peace and healing ... it's good counsel, and wise advice gleaned from the many resources I've used over the years ... the problem is, we live in a time and space that wants everything to be all better YESTERDAY. The tension and the challenge we face comes when we try to make our journey according to a time frame that proceeds at its own pace, within a world that wants to make everything warm and fuzzy instantly ... trusting in God, or whatever you dub the Holy presence in our lives, is the best we can do ...

The reality is, that sometimes it's just hard to carry the load that comes when we lose someone we love ... but step by step, the journey continues, and each step happens in the support and love of our God ... The promise of resurrection never falters nor fails ... sometimes the road is just a bit longer than we expect, but step by step we make our way from the cold and snow of winter, to the glorious resurrection of spring, and we travel at the pace and speed we need to feel and live the healing and wholeness promised by our faith ...

Today, my journey continues ... DAYENU !!