Tag: adult child loss

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Miracles Abound

June 13, 2021

My Dearest Blaker,

It has been quite the month! I’m going to go all the way back to Mother’s Day with this letter to you. I want to acknowledge all of the ways you’ve shown up for me and express my gratitude and explain the impact this has made on me.

Mother’s Day

This was my second Mother’s Day without your physical presence. I told dad that I didn’t want to be at home, that I felt a need to get away from the daily responsibilities that even present themselves on weekends. It would have been fine with me if we just got up in the morning and went somewhere, but dad suggested that we find somewhere to go Saturday night.

We ended up getting a cabin at Diamond Lake. Even though we live just a little over an hour from this lake, I have not been there since I was nine weeks pregnant with you. There are so many beautiful places near us, that we just haven’t gone there.

We set out late Saturday afternoon and stopped to get some snacks at Grocery Outlet. I ran in and dad stayed in the truck with Sarafina. After grabbing the items we wanted, I stood in line behind a boy of probably ten or eleven years old. He had a card in his hand. His mom passed by pushing a basket. She told him that he would need to get the envelope that goes with the card. He got out of line and retrieved an envelope that the card would fit into. This is where it gets cool. He returned to his spot in front of me and started talking to me about the variety of cards available and how with all of those cards, they didn’t have a Mother’s Day specific card. He showed me the card he picked for his mom and read it to me. The gist of the card was that on the dog’s special day, it was the human’s turn to fetch while the dog relaxed. Pretty smart boy. He told me that he was going to mark through the Birthday part of ‘Happy Birthday’ and write Mother’s Day. I assured him that his mom would love it. He was concerned about the cost of the card because he only had $5 and didn’t know where the price was. I showed him and he went ahead paid for the card. Before he left, he looked back and gave me a big smile. I gave him a thumbs up.

Thank you for sending sons who love their mamas to me, for reminding me of how you loved me in your physical form. Thank you for managing to gift me with a Mother’s Day card from you on that day. That’s what it felt like – like you found a way to send me a card.

On Mother’s Day morning, we woke up to a cold and cloudy morning at Diamond Lake. We got everything loaded back up in the truck and went to the lodge where dad and I both ordered you favorite restaurant breakfast of chicken fried steak. By the time we finished, the sun broke through the clouds and it was warming a bit. Without any real plan, we set out to explore. We headed West on Oregon Highway 138 to Watson Falls, where we hiked to what is the 3rd highest waterfall in Oregon. This was Sarafina’s first hike like this. She did pretty well, but she needs more leash training.

Heading East, our next stop was Whitehorse Falls. This waterfall was right next to the parking lot, so there was no real hike required. There were lots of logs in the water that made for pretty formations and waterways. We spent some time breathing in the beauty and taking pictures, and resumed our journey to the next stop.

There was a short hike at Clearwater Falls. Above the falls was very clear water. Dad said the clarity of the water reminded him of Fall River. We got some beautiful pictures here too. As we were almost back to the parking lot, dad headed to the restroom, and a beautiful and uniquely colored light purple and aquamarine butterfly flew in front of me. I asked you to send it back to me, thinking you may have sent it to begin with. It flew right back to me and landed on my shoe. I took multiple pictures of it. It then stayed nearby, repeatedly taking flight and landing, opening its wings, seemingly for my enjoyment and amazement. I enjoyed this sign for at least five minutes.

The last stop of the day was at Lemolo Lake. What a great discovery this lake was! Guess who learned that she could swim? Sarafina! This was such a joyful stop. It reminded me so much of you and Nala and how much you loved her. I’m so happy to be Sarafina’s hu-mom, so that I can experience and remember the love and joy you shared with Nala.

I felt so refreshed and revitalized after this day. I felt full of love. I felt alive.

Here’s the slideshow video that I created of this adventure.

The song, “Lovely Day”, used in this slideshow, was written by Bill Withers and Skip Scarborough and recorded and released by Bill Withers in 1977.

Boise

Over Memorial Day weekend, we took Pop to Boise to visit the gravesite of his wife who transitioned last August. It is admittedly very difficult to be in a semi care-taking role of an elderly father-in-law. It is complicated to say the least. Dad took Pop to visit Anita, and I spent time at the pool reading a book called “Together Forever” by Anna Marie Enea. Anna suddenly lost her 24-year-old son after a motorcycle accident. It’s not about what took him though, it’s about the journey that she made in connecting with him, in recognizing signs, and establishing a new relationship with him. I actually just finished the book, and it has really been helpful. Anyway, I’m out by the pool reading this book, and I’m at a part where she’s talking about receiving a beautiful scent from her son Sal. She noticed this same scent repeatedly in the morning and before bed and there was no explanation for it. I thought that was really cool. So I said quietly, “Hey Blake, could you send me a scent like maybe honeysuckle or some other scent that you’d like to send me, that doesn’t smell like freshly poured blacktop – because that was what was happening in the parking lot just beyond the pool?” No sooner had I made this request and I hear your name. I thought I had imagined it, but then I heard it again. One of the blacktop workers was talking with his co-workers about someone he knew named Blake. I thought that was pretty humorous. Such a comedian you are!

Later on, we were looking for a place to eat dinner. I found a new food truck pod that had just opened that weekend, so we went to check it out. On our way there, I saw these sunflowers, probably steel, maybe plastic, that were in front of this building. They were so pretty and bright. I took some pictures of them. Among the sunflowers were orbs and a rainbow. Thank you.

We arrived at the food truck pod. The location was really nice, but there were only about 6 trucks. I convinced Dad to check it out anyway. The first truck was not really a truck, but more of a canopy covered spot. The guy there, his name is Ben, was selling bottled kava. He has a company called Karuna Kava, and a website with the same name. When I first walked up to his table, he was talking with a couple of people about kava and his struggles with addiction, so I meandered around the remaining trucks before returning to his spot. I explained to him that I’ve been curious if kava might help me with my sleep issues. I also told him I heard him discussing his struggles with his previous customers and that my sleep issues started after you transitioned following a long battle with substance use disorder. We shared back and forth a bit and he offered some facts about kava and his process. He said he wished he would have known you. I told him that the two of you would have been friends. Before pouring our drink, he asked if he could give me a hug. It was such a good hug – the intensity of it brought me to tears. In the moment, I knew that hug was from Ben and from you.

New Job and Tahoe

I’m starting a new job as a Health Educator, through La Pine Community Health Clinic. I am absolutely ecstatic. I actually start tomorrow. I will be working with youth and their families, through the school based health clinics, the main clinic, and in the schools, to educate and advocate in support of prevention and treatment. This will include substance abuse and substance use disorder. I am so excited to begin this work. I know that I will be shaky sometimes, but I realize that this is my space, and that I need to have courage to stand in my space. Working as a paralegal for the last ten months affirmed to me that I cannot just decide to not be who I am or turn my back on my purpose. I needed this reminder, and I needed the time away from my calling to completely realize this. It also helped that the management style of my now previous work place was not conducive to my positive well being. This increased the pressure in me that catapulted me back to where I belong. About five hours after my in person interview at the clinic, the nursing supervisor called me to offer me the job. She told me that I had made their day, and she told me that you would be proud. I know you are proud, and so am I. Proud and humbled and honored and ready.

I knew I wanted to take a quick vacation before starting my new job. Dad couldn’t go with me because he just started a new job. Initially I thought a trip to the Oregon coast would be just what I needed. I checked the weather, and it was just not warm enough to be fully enjoyable to me. I looked at some other areas, but I kept thinking about Lake Tahoe – the place I lived when I was pregnant with you and the shores we visited so many summer days and you snowboarded the mountains overlooking the basin during the winters.

I splurged on a room for myself, staying at a place with its own private beach. The trip was miraculous in so many ways. I spent the evening of my arrival soaking up the last warm sun rays of the day. There was a man on the beach with his two daughters. He was swimming under the water and coming up with what he called “butterfly wings” – the connected shell house of Tahoe’s native mussel. He was scooping up as many as he could find and excitedly told his daughters they were going to do an art project with these treasures. I asked if I could see them as I was passing by on my way to my studio. He was happy to oblige.

The next morning, I got up, dressed warmly, and went down to the beach with the same book I mentioned earlier. I took a few moments and breathed in the cool morning lake air. I felt peace. I read for awhile, returned to my room for a workout and went back to the beach with a journal for writing. I met the man and his daughters on the path to the beach. I asked if he was going to find more butterfly wings. He said he hoped so and said that he was thinking of calling them angel wings instead of butterfly wings. I said, “Oh, I love that. I have a very special angel.” I shared just a bit and showed him the tattoo of you in the moon. He had actually commented on my tattoos the day before. There was a woman with him that morning- maybe a cousin or niece, because his wife came down later. She was listening to this conversation. She offered her condolences for my loss of you. I thanked her and for some reason explained that I didn’t lose you though – only the physicality of you – that everything is energy and that I feel your presence all around me and that that presence is love. I wrote this as I sat on the beach:

Earth, wind, water, fire

Body, soul, spirit

Energy

Love

Sweet Love

Eternally

And this…..

This place, Another time

This woman, A different version

Then filled with impending life, Now filled with infinite love

So much to prove, looking out, So much to feel, looking in

Restless, longing to be loved, Courageous, realizing I am love

His birth sparked my first true love, His transition ignited its power

I return to this place, As love, forever loving, and forever loved.

It was windy that day, and the man and his family grew tired of its interference with their desired activity. He came to where I was writing and said, ‘Hi, I don’t want to kick sand in your face.’ Kneeling on one knee, he said, ‘I just wanted to come over and wish you a beautiful life. Maybe our paths will cross again.’ I asked his name and he answered “Ryan.” I told him my name and thanked him. And tears filled my eyes.

I spent a bit more time at the beach before realizing that just because I wasn’t sweating didn’t mean I wasn’t burning. I went up to my room, changed, and went to do some shopping and then had an early dinner, where my server gave me a 20% locals’ discount, saying that some people deserve that treatment. Maybe she could tell I was local in another time; maybe I looked comfortable.

I got up the next morning, worked out, showered, and went in search of the beach where we spent so many summer days – just you and me, then you, me, and Dad, and then you, me, Dad, and Lucas. It took a bit of searching, and when I felt I had passed it, I turned around, drove a few hundred feet and pulled off the road into a parking area. I don’t know what I was planning to do there, but as soon as I put my truck in park and looked around a second, I laughed. This was the spot!

It was freezing cold that day, and the wind was blowing that cold air right through me. There was no one on the beach, which is now a private beach that belongs to the cabins that sit a few hundred feet from the shoreline. They had lounge chairs out, so I sat down on one and covered myself with a beach towel, attempting to shield myself from the frigid gusts of air. I was filled with sweet memories of days of curiosity, play, and freedom shared with my life’s most precious gifts.

I met my dad and youngest brother for lunch and then took a leisurely drive back to my place, stopping to take pictures along the way. I laid down for a little bit before getting enough energy restored to drive to Eagle Falls Trail. The drive there took me by Inspiration point which overlooks Emerald Bay. More picture taking. I felt a bit timid when I got to the Falls trailhead because it was a bit of a climb and that fear of heights kicked in. I wanted to do it though, so I just took my time, and was rewarded with beautiful nature and energy. As soon as I returned to my truck, Dad called. I had him on bluetooth, so I talked to him while I navigated the 10mph hairpin turns on the roadway. When I came upon a beautiful creek, I pulled off the road and took him with me, explaining what I was seeing. I looked across the road, and noticed a trail, so I crossed over to investigate. The trail was called Rainbow Trail, and there were rainbows everywhere!!! It was absolutely magickal! I felt like you guided me to this spot. I didn’t know anything about it. I just felt this urge to pull off the road and I followed it.

I put together this collage of your infant and toddler days on the shores of Lake Tahoe and this slide show of my time there this last week.

The song, “Let Your Love Flow”, used in this slideshow, was written by Larry E. Williams and recorded and released by The Belamy Brothers in 1976.

I returned home the next day. It was a long drive after such a beautiful time with you. I am so grateful for your continued teachings, for your love, for your presence, for your humor, and for all of the twirling orbs, the rainbows, and the people that you send my way to love on me for you. I certainly could not have anticipated when I stood next to your bed blessing you and inviting you to visit anytime, that this is where we’d be now. You are still, and always will be, my beautiful boy.

Advocacy Day

Now let me wipe my tears, and tell you that I woke up early the next day to write a speech to be delivered shortly after noon for Oregon Recovers Advocacy Day in front of Oregon’s state capitol. I wrote the speech, showered, and drove to Salem, a three hour, much slower than necessary, drive after driving seven plus hours the day before. After the speech, I shook some hands of legislators, talked with other moms, advocates, and people in recovery. The young people in recovery filled my cup. Jack came right up to me and wrapped me up with a huge hug. He’s trying. A young woman shared that she has six weeks – she’s trying too. Please watch out for them. For all of them.

Here’s the recording of my speech:

New Chapter

I look forward to this new chapter that I turn the page to after one more sleep. I know I’ll see you there. I’ll need you there, you know? We’ve got work to do, together. I love you to infinity and beyond!

I am forever your mama.

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2020: In the Rearview Mirror

Last year at this time, I was so scared to leave 2019 behind. I had this ebbing pain that came with the loss of Blake – this fear that turning the page to a new year and a new decade would somehow separate us even more. What I’ve learned is that while time measures how long we’ve been physically distant from each other, my heart cannot read a clock or a calendar. I know there are hundreds of mothers joining the club of mothers who have lost a child to substance use disorder/overdose/poisoning every day, and we should all be alarmed. We should all rise up and demand better from our systems, our communities, and each other. What I would tell these mothers though, is that you will always love your child. You will think of them every single day, every waking hour. Look for them, they are with you. Look for them in the good times; and be aware of their encouraging presence during the challenges.

This past year has been a mixed bag for me personally. I entered 2020 knowing that I needed to take some time for myself. I had been showing up to do the work of my previously unbroken heart during the months since Blake’s passing, smiling pleasantly for the children, trying to be present for them, all while carrying this immense weight that I could not let them see or feel. This made me incredibly tired. I also felt guilty because I knew that they were not getting what they deserved. I saw a doctor who granted my request for a medical leave of absence for the month of February.

February – Blake’s birth month, and the first birthday that we would spend without his physical presence on Earth. While he spent his 22nd and his 28th birthdays in in-patient treatment, and his 27th in sober living in Los Angeles, this new separation was final. We were navigating a new normal. It just so happened that his actual birthday was Advocacy Day at the state legislature, and I was offered a platform to speak about my heartbreak, as a mother who lost her child to substance use disorder. The afternoon before the event, I sat in the passenger seat and wrote, as Thom drove us to Salem.

The next day, we got up early. I put the final touches on my poem that I would read on the steps of the state capitol, and we found our way there. It felt good to keep his memory alive in the presence of so many who understood, and to speak with legislators about what this disease is doing to families and communities and what is needed to make positive change. I made lifelong friends that day – other mothers who know and understand the pain, whether their children are with Blake or are still struggling to break the chains. By the end of the day, I was tired. Thom and I stopped at a favorite sushi place that we both frequented with Blake when one of us would take him to his monthly appointment with his Suboxone doctor in Portland. The sushi didn’t taste near as good that night.

That weekend, we celebrated Blake’s birthday with a couple of Blake’s friends and some new friends of ours, preparing some of his favorite foods. This is often a question from moms newly on this journey, “How do you get through their birthday?” What I’ve learned about myself, is that I must intentionally grant myself time to just be with him. After I’ve done that, I can emerge and give myself to the needs and attention of others. On this day especially, I need to love and care for him. I need to cook for him and share him with others.

The next week, I spent two days at La Pine High School, speaking with youth about the realities of substance use and substance use disorder, using my story, and Blake’s story, in an effort to normalize what so many are struggling with, whether it is them personally, a family member, or a friend. I can definitely see myself doing more of this work, perhaps while RVing throughout the United States.

Thom and I ended the month of February with a retreat to Ashland, where we lazily walked through the park, shopped downtown, ate some really good food, and even found and walked into Tunnel 13, the site of the country’s last train robbery. That was a fun hike, but it was admittedly also kind of creepy. We returned home, somewhat invigorated, and I returned to work on March 2nd.

I worked for two whole weeks. I can’t say that I was upset by the news that spring break was being extended by a week, and then a month, and then the rest of the school year. I was suddenly forced to sit my butt down and be still with my grief, and I felt grateful. I settled into a pattern of more rest, more exercise, more cooking and reading, and learning about and doing yoga. I took care of my mind and body and paid attention to my needs. I soaked up the sun, raked our yard, and painted my kitchen.

Blake’s one year angelversary, July 23rd, found us taking a trip to Eagle Point, where we spent the day with him at Lost Creek Lake. We saw him everywhere and could feel the magic of his presence in nature, his favorite place to be.

By August, I felt an ominous cloud hanging over me in regard to the impending return-to-school date. I really didn’t know what to do. What I wanted to do was sell the house, buy an RV, and hit the road. I still want to do that, but it’s not quite time – yet. I had been watching various job sites, and I was struggling with the pros and cons of leaving my 20 year career in education. What I knew was that the stress of the pandemic and the uncertainty that it brought to the daily lives of all I would be involved with would be too much for my mental health. That was the bottom line. I responded to a job posting for a paralegal after researching the firm. Almost two weeks later, I answered a call from an unfamiliar number and passed the initial screening for the paralegal position. The first interview was set and then the second. The job offer arrived in my inbox within the hour on Friday afternoon – two and a half days before I was scheduled to report back to school. Happy dance with tears!

I started my new job on August 31st, shortly after Thom’s dad’s wife passed away. Throughout September, Thom helped his dad settle his affairs in Boise. By the beginning of October, Thom moved his dad into a travel trailer on our property. There is challenge and reward in this transition. Overall, I am happy to be in a position to be able to have Thom help his elderly father. It is challenging to watch the effects of physical aging and to accept the reality of the continuation of the process, both the known and the unknown.

Also in October, Lucas, our youngest son, and his fiance, Kristen, (yes, he proposed in September, and she said YES!) took a long vacation to Montana, where her family lives. I had a suspicion that this vacation would turn into something more. Sitting together at the table, after eating Thanksgiving dinner, it was confirmed. Lucas and Kristen were planning to move to Paradise Valley, Montana at the beginning of 2021. The next day I put a deposit on a puppy.

Knowing that they were getting ready to move out of our home and out of the state, I poured every ounce of myself into the Christmas holiday. We hunted for the perfect tree with Lucas. I scoured the Internet, mostly Etsy, for heartfelt gifts. I shopped downtown stores for local items. I created our breakfast and dinner menu and grocery shopping lists. Right in the middle of December, I picked up my new love, Sarafina. On Christmas, we celebrated a perfect day, our family, as it is, the end of a chapter, and the beginning of a new adventure.

The day ended with a phone call that my PawPaw had passed from COVID, a month and a day shy of his 98th birthday. He was my maternal grandpa. He had been in a nursing home for a number of years, as he had debilitating arthritis, among other ailments. Having not had a close relationship with him, as my mother prefers to deny my existence, I was more happy than sad, that he was not in pain anymore and could now dance on the Otherside. In the days ahead though, I was reminded, once again, that my mother does not consider me to be part of the family that is indeed mine, and I felt the stabbing of her dagger in my heart. I cried that night and rose the next morning. Driving to work, the full moon still in the sky, Blake seemed to be deejaying the radio station. First Train and then G. Love and Special Sauce. I don’t know if Blake ever heard the song “Diggin’ Roots”, but it always makes me think of him when I hear it.

With everything that has happened, especially in the last quarter of 2020, I have neglected my physical self-care, which is tied to my overall well-being. I enter into 2021 with a bit more anxiety and knowledge that I have work to do. That is a constant though. I always have work to do. I am willing to do it. Sometimes it’s two steps forward and one step back. 2020 was a year of huge evolution, a year of experiencing love to and from the Otherside, a year of realizing that sorrow and joy can co-exist, a year of understanding that life is about more than meets the eye, and a year of courage. I am and will remain curious and resilient. I will take courage with me and develop it further, as I carry it into unknown places and spaces. I will take intentional steps to manifest the future that I see, which starts with a recommitment to my physical health, a Zoom meeting with Anna B. David on Tuesday afternoon about writing a book, an 8-week “Sacred Time – Space: Grief and Psychic Phenomena” course that begins in three weeks, and research into starting a non-profit..

Cheers to 2021!

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Have Faith Mama, I Got You!

My Dearest Blaker:

I know it’s been a minute since I last wrote, but you and I know we talk every single day. I try not to take up too much of your time, because I know that I’m not the only one who needs you or the only one you want to hang out with.

So what’s been happening since Mother’s Day? Wow! Where to even start…. COVID is still a thing, but that’s kind of boring, and a lot of people seem to like to argue about it, so we’ll just skip that conversation. It’s summer. We love summer!!! We haven’t had many lake days this summer, but the days spent at lakes have been beautiful. We’ve been to Crescent Lake and South Twin near home, and we spent a day at Lost Creek Lake and another day at Willow Lake near Eagle Point, Oregon. Lucas and Kristen joined me and Dad at Crater Lake, and I think we’re going to do that annually in remembrance of you near your angelversary. I’ve spent a couple of afternoons by the river at Cline Falls State Park and many many afternoons in the backyard in or near my inflatable pool. Books have accompanied me to all of these places.

I’ve done a lot of introspection, and there have been some authors/teachers, through their books, that have found their way into my heart exactly when I needed them. This grief journey is no joke, but I feel like I’ve grown considerably in my own journey to self actualization. I will say that the time that COVID has allowed me has been a gift for my healing. I’m realizing and accepting that I’ve been holding myself back, that I have not been allowing myself to live to my full capacity, out of some perceived or self-imposed responsibility to invest in others or perhaps out of fear of losing or failing. This is not good or bad. It just is.

In addition to the books, I met with a shaman three weeks ago. Can you believe we worked together for five hours? I think I’m still processing, but she affirmed a lot of what I already knew. This gave me confidence to believe that my feelings are valid. I know they’re valid, but sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re valid. She offered clarity that it is time for me to claim my life. She said that in terms of wisdom, I know a lot, but that I’m not applying it to myself. She said “You have all of this information and all of this knowledge, and if someone sat down in front of you, you’d say blah, blah, blah, blah. Apply what you know and what you believe and your intuition to you, to your current situation.” I can feel that you agree.

So much of what she said aligns with the literature I’ve been reading. I could and probably should do a complete annotation of Seane Corn’s book Revolution of the Soul. Reading it with a highlighter in hand was good, but I need to digest each morsel of wisdom. I related to her description of being “scared for the wounded little girl in me. Because of my fears, . . . I couldn’t truly serve them.” She was speaking of youth she was serving in a detention facility. When I look through that wounded little girl lens, I see things as I am, not as they truly are. She quotes Carl Jung, who said, “The best political, social, and spiritual work we can do is withdraw the projections of our shadow onto others.” I know that I have developed resilience, but I acknowledge the wounded little girl, and I think her existence is okay, because without her, I would not be who I am today. And today, I am not her. This is what the shaman said:

You literally have to become someone else with no diagnosis, no illness, abuse, trauma or neglect. You have to release the programs of trauma and sickness, and the back story and the personality that goes with it otherwise the future will just look like and become  a record of the past that progresses in severity.

We don’t say this to be dismissive of Blake or your past in any way. It’s not about erasing or forgetting but rather allowing yourself to build a new identity without them because they are no longer present and you cannot pretend to be your old self when so much of your personality, habits, beliefs and actions were linked with them. Now that Blake is gone you have no idea who and what you are without his presence and all that you said or did to keep him alive and yourself sane while he engaged in his self destructive behaviors. [Self destructive behaviors are an outcome of Substance Use Disorder.] It’s not just Blake that is gone but also the personality you adopted to cope with his life.

I’m sure you know these things. I know you did not want to burden (your word) me with your problems because you loved me, and you knew that it would hurt me. Perhaps you also didn’t want me to see you as broken – maybe the way I saw myself.

It’s time for me to break up with the identities of the wounded little girl and the mother that sacrificed herself to keep you alive. Those identities served a purpose but trying to hang on to them traps me and blocks me from my current purpose. I will continue to use my pain as my purpose and the empathy that I’ve gained as a result of my journey because I do know “the ways in which the other person wants to run, hide, sabotage, and resist.” It’s wondrous to me that purpose can come from pain, that living life on purpose is dharma, or the soul’s work. Seane quotes Deepak Chopra as he describes dharma as “the ecstasy and exultation of our own spirit, which is the ultimate goal of all goals.”

I intentionally trudge through the muck giving myself grace and patience. I show up for myself and reach for nourishment. I’m opening myself to possibility. The work that I’ve done with youth has allowed me to heal the wounded little girl. She remains as a scar, a beautiful badge of courage, a reminder that I can do hard things. And let me share what else the shaman told me:

Life is just not the same without Blake and you don’t know how to be the self you recognize. The version of you that was so driven to help youth included Blake from the beginning. That teacher, healer, counselor and motivational speaker persona was all wrapped up in Blake. His presence motivated you to change your life so that his life would be better than yours. You both had rough childhoods through no fault of your own. You both made choices that would have led to self destruction. Blake’s conception and your commitment to keep him was a catalyst for change for you. His life changed your momentum and inspired you to change your thoughts, habits and beliefs so that he would not have to suffer the same fate. He was your inspiration and motivation that led you to working with youth with trauma. You were drifting, but all that changed when he came into the world. He was intrinsically tied to your life purpose and now that he is gone you have to ask yourself if your purpose has changed. 

Remember when you told me that if something happened to you that it would not be anyone’s fault? I told you that if something happened to you that it would change me in a way that I could not know. But I knew in my gut, as I spoke those words to you. I knew that it just might change the way that I am able to show up for youth. And I was right. I went back to school last fall. I went through the motions, but my head wasn’t in it, even more, my heart wasn’t. I had a complete lack of initiative. I would get upset with myself for not being emotionally and mentally present, for not being committed, for running short on patience.

I ran the tape in my head, ‘this is what I’ve spent my life doing,’ ‘this is what I went to school to do,’ ‘I’ve invested my life in this,’ ‘I have 5 more years to have 25 years in the PERS system,’ ‘I need to stay in public service because of student loans,’ ‘It’s just grief, it will get better.’ All these things, and not one time was it, ‘I love what I’m doing, and I’m going to continue.’

I wondered if Seane Corn was advising me to stay, to lean in, when I read, “So serve where you are called. Serve in a way that is sustainable. Be open to what presents itself. Service may look completely different from how you thought it would look. Serve anyway. Just give of yourself in benefit to the happiness, good will, safety, abundance, and ease of others . . . and watch your own heart open in unimaginable ways.”

I kept this in mind as I was confronted with a recurring question in her book and in “Signs, The Secret Language of the Universe by Laura Lynne Jackson and “Finding Inner Courage” by Mark Nepo. I applied the question to making a decision about going back to school this fall. I asked myself, “Are you making this decision out of fear or for love?” All of the authors counseled that all decisions should be made for love.

Laura Lynne Jackson told a story about a woman named Amy who was unexpectedly pregnant. Her story reminded me of myself so much. Laura is a psychic medium and she met Amy for a reading. She told her, “You have to make the choice, but you have to make the choice independently of your boyfriend. The baby is linked to you. If your boyfriend steps up, great, but if he doesn’t you need to understand this is not about him, it’s about you and the baby. It’s about how your souls are connected.” Wow! Right? This gave me goosebumps. She said, “Amy needed to ask herself what was motivating her choice. If it was fear, it would always lead her down a lower path. But if she followed a path of love, she would find her highest path.”

Mark Nepo starts a chapter entitled “Loving What You Fear” with an except from one of his poems:

Go outside and let the sun spill into your heart.

There. Can you feel it? It’s the quiver of your soul.

It makes you vulnerable but it will never betray you.

Now you and I know that I have no fear of the sun. In fact my doctor just advised me on the proper use of zinc based sun protection. I interpret this as being open, not doing something out of fear of not doing it, but doing it because it exhilarates me – makes me feel alive. Sure, it might be scary, but stay in that space. I labored over the question of fear versus love, and in the meantime, I kept my eyes open for different career opportunities. I applied to a couple and didn’t hear anything. I emailed our local district attorney, as I felt like I could be of value to a law office, serving as a paralegal and possible resource for those struggling with substance use disorder. I was on the right path.

The following week, actually it was the day that I had the meeting with the shaman, I submitted my resume, cover letter, and references to a law office looking for both a receptionist and paralegal. I told them that I was seeking a career change back to the field of law. I explained that I’ve spent the last 20 years working in roles supporting education. Almost two weeks went by. I nearly forgot about this, and the clock was ticking, with just a little over a week until I was to report back to school for the 2020-2021 school year.

Last Thursday night, I was about at my wits’ end. I had so many ideas for how to go forward, and nothing seemed to be working out. I had just finished reading “Signs.” Laura said, “You can ask for help too.” So I said, “Blake, I really need some help right now. I don’t even know what I’m asking for, but I need your help. Please help me.” I went to bed and you came to me in a dream. I don’t have a vivid memory of the dream, but I know you were in it. When I woke up, I felt calm. Two hours later, I got a call from the office manager of the law firm, and we talked for fifteen minutes just setting up the interview, which was set for the following Monday.

This week, on Monday afternoon, I had an awesome interview with the Office Manager and and the Client Relations Manager. By the end of the day, my second interview was scheduled for Thursday, yesterday. It was the best interview I’ve ever had. Everything just clicked, the desire for empathy, resilience, respect, being a community asset, work-life balance, self care – everything. I was so happy when I sat down for the interview in front of my computer. I was only slightly nervous. I felt confident and excited. By the end, I could not stop smiling. Just over an hour after the interview, an Offer of Employment for the role of Family Law Paralegal landed in my email. The feeling? Complete exhilaration! I could not sit down. Tears filled my eyes.

I’ve thanked you out loud, and I heard you, “Have faith mama, I got you!” Thank you my dear angel. I’m learning how this works, how we get to have this healthy relationship, how the love will never die. I do not like being unable to hug you and being unable to hear your voice (outside of recordings), but I know you’re safe and healthy, and we still have each other, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. I’m also grateful that I’m gaining the courage to grow in the grief, and that I get to take you with me.

I love you to infinity and beyond!

Your Mama