Sunday, November 30, 2008

2 years....

Today is like any other day. I missed her yesterday, last week and 2 months ago. I miss her today and will, most probably, miss her tomorrow and next week and the week after that. Nothing has changed except how much I feel it physically. What was once a sharp stabbing debilitating pain in my chest has been replaced with numbness. I breathe in and out, just like before. I breathe in and out. It is only when I think about it too intensely that the pain of my broken heart resurfaces. It is more like a memory than an actual pain. Maybe I am suffering from phantom heart pain, like those who loose a limb. You still feel it energetically even when it has left you. Maybe that is why anniversaries are worse, because we think the pain back into being. It is our designated day to talk about our losses. We have set this day aside in our calender to feel. We prepare ourselves for the worse, and then everyone feels it with us. We become united in that memory of pain and relive the day, over and over. Nothing has changed, except the scope of our memory. Details emerge, but are they real or created?

We do that with more than grief. We hash and rehash life's minutiae daily. As if looking at it, yet again, will bring us this desired clarity or ending. Reality is that the only thing that keeps it alive is our capacity to regurgitate memory and manipulate it to either make us feel better or worse depending on our point of view at the moment, or the trigger. History is subjective.

48 years and a trillion memories. The choice is mine what I relive. I choose this moment with a heaping helping of fresh out of the oven hot bread, thick butter, smiling hungry faces and laughter. And I continue to breathe, in and out.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Mary

2 years ago tomorrow...

DONOVAN, MARY (May 28, 1991 - November 30,2006) Oh my darling girl, you are missed today and everyday with an intensity that defies description. Your courage strength and sacrifice continue to teach us about love, joy, friendship and family and we are grateful for having had you in our life. Love Mom, Zech, Emma and Hanna

Friday, November 28, 2008

title-less

Let go

I feel stuck, stalled, unable to move.
Located in my gut is a petrified place.
A dark dull grey room that threatens to topple if I move.
I am trapped in the middle, with a foot on either side
trying desperately to find the right balance.
The look of desperation on my face is alarming.
Nightmares are made of this.
I am a lone performer on this internal stage.
The curtains are drawn, and yet, the show goes on.
I am trapped in balance and it is exhausting.

I want to let go.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Sunday...

2 years... doesn't it go by in a flash... it seems just like yesterday I was walking the halls of Sick Kids not sure of out comes... not much has changed, except I know the outcomes of that situation.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Spiral Tattoos and other things.

There is no beginning, no middle, no end. Existence is one continuous, ever changing dance. Peace is, learning to flow with that dance. There are maze-like twists and turns, corners of confusion, slides and gentle slopes. There are many layers to grow through and ancient wisdom's to uncover in the spiral of a single breathe. There is that which sustains human life; land and sea and sky. And in that human life, there is birth, death and rebirth. There is pain and sorrow and hope. And nothing looks like what we think we want. That which sustains us while learning to dance is a belief in continuity and reason. We start out slow and as our soul gains momentum it widens and exponentially increases speed ( ). Our size changes until our soul is one with all that is. We are, at the same time, nothing and everything in an eternal dance of Love. Peace is surrender to the joy of the dance.

Hanna arrived yesterday. What joy it is to have someone to take care of. I do love being a Mom.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

The day loss began...

I had never been close to child death, I was not even sure how one managed it really and 2 years ago today, with the loss of our darling little friend, Zoë I began to get a sense of not only what was to come in my life, but what was to be the most painful thing a parent can experience, the death of their child. Today feels different than last year, I am not as tied up in knots. I am not as apprehensive about what is to come and I am not running from my emotions. Hold on for a bumpy ride. The up side this week is that in 6 sleeps Hanna comes for a week and I am ecstatic, over the moon like a flying loon... hehe We have a whirlwind week planned that includes dinners with family and friends, new tattoos, a visit to the Royal Ontario Museum and to the opening of the next big movie thing, "Twilight". Like this last 2 years, it all goes by in the blink of an eye.

My love and heart is with Jenn and Chris and Jaxon today as they spend the day with family and friends making sense of their loss. I will be with you in spirit my dear friends.

GUIMOND, ZOE- In loving memory of our princess Zoë who passed away November 9, 2006 after a devastating battle with cancer. You taught us the meaning of life, the breathtaking depths of love, the power of courage and the importance of hope even in the darkest times. Love you forever and ever and ever... MOMMY, DADDY, JAXON, AUNT BETH and UNCLE PATRICK

GUIMOND, ZOE - Tomorrow it will be 2 years since your spirit journey began. May you float on fairy wings Princess Butterfly. Love Patty, Zech, Emma and Hanna Donovan