Music

I have certainly been more intuned to music in the last years, and probably have written about it on this blog...one day I will go back and ready some entries, I probably write the same thing everyday! My taste in music has certainly changed and evolved over the years, just last night as Joe and I enjoyed a glass of Napa Valley Chardonnay on the deck, and had the music playing, even he questioned who the artist was...a little out of my normal CD selection. It was David Cook, one of the selected American Idols of the past. He writes and sings beautifully, soulfully, and I probably gravitate to the songs that he has written about his brother, who was by his side throughout the whole season, but lost his battle to brain cancer just recently. Now, David's songs are even more tempered with experience.

This brings me to an experience on Saturday night, attending the American Idol Concert Live in St. Louis. I do my best to sometimes "step out of the box" and do something new and different. When the opportunity came to see what became a favorite group of Jen's and mine and Aunt Kathy's, we decided to go for it. We had many favorites in the top ten, mostly, Danny, Allison, and Adam, but we love Chris, too, and of course, Matt and Scotty. They didn't disappoint! It was just an all around fun night, getting out of the house and taking advantage of living life, especially after a week where the loss of our beloved Barkley overshadowed everything we tried to do. Really, with heavy hearts we are trying to live, live for ourselves and for the spirit of Allison who just truly won't let us rest! So it should have come as no surprise that she was such a part of the evening. With my heart on my sleeve, as always, we ventured out and took part in a great event. As each of our favorites gave us a great show, it was when Danny G. took the stage that we all sort of smiled and bonded, after all, he had won our hearts during the weeks of watching the show...most likely, he has won the hearts of women of all ages! Maybe it is that deep understanding of life that he had at such a young age, just losing his wife, weeks before his audition. Maybe it was that oneness we felt when we listened and knew he was being guided by someone and some being more powerful than his own gift. Maybe it was the way he looked to the heavens and performed better and better each week. Whatever it was, we couldn't wait for him to take the stage. When he sang his songs and we saw the maturity since the show it was obvious that he was created for so much in his life, but when he began to talk about loss and challenges something started stirring inside. He explained that he didn't want to make this about him, and he didn't share his story specifically, but one just knew by what he DID say and what he sang next, that his message is that we can all rise above, we can live in the way we must, and that loss doesn't have to define us. Surely this struck a chord with hundreds, maybe thousands in the audience, but at that moment, I can honestly tell you that for Jen, Aunt Kathy and me, it was if we were the only three there. As the opening notes of his next song began to play, I was rivoted, not really surprised, as he dedicated the song to all who need to know someone is there....and there it was, My Wish, by Rascal Flatts, what has become known to our family as "Allison's Song" after being chosen as a favorite selection, put to music on her celebration of life video. The message was clear, she joined us in spirit, the song reminded us that yes, somebody loves us, we are never alone, a smile will and does come, and that through God's grace we get through every mistake, every challenge, every heartbreak.

Among the three of us there were a few tears, many smiles, the nodding of our heads in complete understanding that this song was meant for us. We held hands and we knew that we will keep going and that Allison sent her wish to us, to keep enjoying life, doing what we can, while we can, and to seize every moment under God's watchful eye.

The Climb

I had heard the song a few times on the radio and of course the words resonated with me..."there's always going to be an uphill battle...just keep the faith...always going to be another mountain...but it's the climb". I didn't know the singing artist until this morning, when watching Miley Cyrus perform on the Today Show. Is it a "teeny bopper" song? How can a 16 year old sing with such knowledge? Maybe they are just words to her, maybe not. Maybe her young life has taught her much already. There's obviously something she "gets" because the song, while a simple message, does have passion and resonates with all of us. But it was appropriate this morning, as I face another day, adjusting to my once again, New Normal, without the routines and schedules of my dear dog and companion, Barkley.

I am restless and anxious and sad and at peace all at the same time. I can feel the last breath as he lay in my arms, as we laid him to eternal rest after a good life, a distinct purpose, and a definite joy. To know and love an animal was such a blessing, coming later in life, my first long term pet! As the calls and e-mails have come in to share a Barkley story or to lend support, I am reminded that Barkley was not just "any dog", he was king of the castle, top dog, and brought to our lives to help make connections, help ease our burdens and grief, and to bring memories that will last a lifetime.

But today's climb is rough and tough and heart breaking. I didn't think my heart could feel any heavier, but it does, for as he is gone, another part of Allison is, too. Grief takes on stages and phases and as we are only mid-way through the second year of living through life without our daughter, we are still maneuvering, finding our way, and striving to live life to its fullest. Barkley was such a part of living that life, no matter what we did, he was there...watching the nightly news, the Cardinals games, taking naps, sleeping, eating, walking, enjoying the cool evenings on the deck. Always within arms reach, he has remained stoic and faithful.

The climb IS uphill today, taking every ounce of strength I have to even make the bed and get dressed. As I have done almost everyday with photos of Allison, again today I let my finger linger on her face, I ask for guidance and blessing and I move, making movement is the important thing. I will move today, I will climb a bit and become a bit stronger, I will smile at the sweetness of what love brings to our lives, for not to have loved, would have been a denial of God's greatest gift. But the painful side of love is when that being is gone, faded from our grasp, leaving us to find our way and climb the mountain of life.

Barkley had a great life and he gave us so much more than we gave him. Today I will do my best to focus on that and allow the grief to wash over me, yet, climb a little higher, for him, for Allison, for the appreciation to God for such a life.

Never Ending Strength

I have accomplished much in my life that I would never, ever have imagined, and I am continually amazed and convinced that the God-given strength never runs dry. By His grace I am here, upright, making movement, even if it is ever so slowly, this day after one of the greatest acts of love we have ever been called upon to give, to lay Barkley to rest. Even as I write this, I am expecting him to follow me to this room and lie down beside me as he does every time I am at the computer, to trot behind me as I have coffee in my selected spot of my home, and to look at me with those eyes, indicating his need for the moment. His unconditional love has brought this family through so many of life's changes, even in the seven short years he has been our boy. He brought a joy that can never be described and he "had us from hello" as the song goes.

As with losses in life, I am barely able, right now to recall the memories. The events of the last weeks are more in my mind and heart and soul. But, as I have learned from experience, the days of torturing decisions and intense heartbreak will give way and I will be able to smile again, we will laugh again, we will remember. Right now, for this day, it is all too raw. It seems as if no more tears can be shed. We have lost our constant companion, and with him, yet another piece of our daughter and sister has gone on, too. Yes, she's been gone, but as he lived, so did she. Now, all I can envision is their happy times here on earth and them being entwined as sweet souls, meant for one another through a destiny that no one can ever explain.

We have asked God and Allison to give us the strength needed to do what was right for Barkley, not what we wanted. How we were going to give up the routines, the wagging tail, the greetings at the door, the waiting for hours by the window when I ran my errands, we just didn't know. But for his sake, and our greatest love, we knew that soon, he would suffer more, and as the quality of life diminished, day by day, we once again, looked at the blessings of his entry into our lives, and we gave him his greatest gift by letting him go.

So, this day, with pain and loss in my heart, and no more tears to shed, I am weary, I am heartbroken, but I am strong. God keeps giving and giving and we never run out of strength. He understands when I am torn or upset or even angry. He knows the grief of my heart, just as he knew when all creatures were created, all creatures leave. We know not when, but we know that in His perfect timing, the circle of life continues. It was Barkley's time and the messages I have received in many forms indicate that in being his time, it is my time. I know not for what, but I know that God is preparing me for something, maybe right around the corner, maybe in a month, maybe next year. He is taking Barkley so that I may move from the confines of this house, that for over two years I have tended and cared and medicated and massaged and loved that dog with all my being, and now God's message is that it is time for a new direction, a new life. Trusting Him to know that is a beautiful knowledge and it provides me with hope. I will find my way with Him as my compass.

But, for today, I grieve, and I miss my life as I knew it, my beautiful, vibrant daughter and my constant companion, my buddy, my comforter, my boy, Barkley.

All In A Day

On this day, I think about how blessed I am to seize it, yet how overcome with sadness and loss I feel, for my own self, for so many others. For some, the day comes with good news and celebrations, for some, like Erica, a newly grieving mother I'm sure it comes with adjustments and finding her way, for Cathy, I'm sure it comes with finding her "new normal" as her husband left this earth a few short weeks ago, for the countless, nameless souls who are doing what has to be done in the course of this day, I pray, through the trying times, they, and I, can find the joy, the happiness of memories and the peace in being given a new day.

This day will find us laying Barkley to eternal rest, later this afternoon, here in our own home. When faced with the decision that I have known was coming for some time now, I didn't know how grueling and painstaking it could be...yet, as the family discussions evolved, it became more and more clear that his quality of life has faded, he is tired, and he is ready, and we love him enough to begin the process of release. Obviously, we are not new to this. And thankfully, Allison's spirit has prevailed and we are finding our way to let the love shine and do what is needed so that Barkley maintains the dignity and peace and comfort he has known since walking through our doors over seven years ago.

I had asked God to do what was necessary, and admittedly had hoped Barkley would just fall to eternal sleep. So often, lately, he looked as if he had done just that. But, his strength and determination played out and he would rise again, fooling us into believing he was able to endure just a bit longer. But risking suffocation and suffering is not a part of the plan, and he will leave today, as the day he came, surrounded by those who love him, and I will envision him finding his way to the arms of his sweet and precious caretaker. Allison will be waiting with open arms.

My "sign" of approval arrived last evening in the form of pink streaks and an illuminated glow around our house. The words uttered by Allie, years ago from Chicago, when we thought Barkley was leaving, echoed through my soul...."mom, you will know when it is the right time, you will just know"...yes, Allison, Dad, Jennifer, and I just know.

Another Glorious Day Under Heaven

Yesterday was the picture perfect day in ways that can barely be described. While I grappled with the notion of abandoning my plans to assist a friend with a benefit washer tournament, in memory of her daughter who left this life just five months ago, to attend a service for baby Faith Elizabeth, I chose the original plan. I always pray for guidance when it comes to decisions that must be made, and God sends the spirit to guide me. I am grateful for that so that I don't have conflict, and rather, can live with peace in the decisions. I know I will be in support of Faith's young parents for many months and years to come, and perhaps my presence will mean more when the cards stop coming and life goes on for most. Also, I must still follow my heart as I determine how I can involve myself, on what emotional level, and funerals for children leaving our arms is not something that has become possible for me, not yet, maybe not ever. I can only imagine, given the day that it was, that the service and memorial for baby Faith must have been beautiful and inspiring and life changing for those who attended, showing one and all, once again, how precious life is, how we can never take this life for granted, and that all the small things in life mean absolutely nothing.

We, too, had a glorious day, under God's grace. Picture perfect weather for a tournament planned for many weeks. Jessica's mother and loved ones needed to take away a bit of the financial burden that an unexpected death takes on a family, hence, the idea from my own sister and brother in law, who sponsor a "washer tournament" each year for a memorial scholarship in Allison's name. So, we planned and plotted, and gave it a try. And what a success it was...in ways that can never be measured by dollars. The love, the support, the desire to help was so clear in the droves of cars and arrivals, all contributing in any way they could. Everyone participated in a way that was pleasing and appropriate for them, and the day could truly not have been more magical. Jessica was alive and well and at peace as she guided her mother, grandmother, aunts, uncles, and all who knew her in this lifetime, or in spirit. She was ever present and you had to be part of it all to understand the surreal, wonder of fellowship.

Jessica has taught us all that while on this earth, she mattered to so many. Perhaps she didn't realize just how much as she struggled with pain, grief, addiction, illness, only to find that this life really was not worth living. She was tired and had to leave to find the peace that is now hers eternally. We could all say that it's a shame that she couldn't rise above it, that she couldn't see the beauty in the day, but how could she? She was consumed by too many things that caused pain and suffering, yet, in all of that, she left a legacy. She left a mother who loves life and people and named the event "The Jessica Canman Life Goes On Tournament". What does that say to all of us? What message did we all walk away with yesterday? Yes, we are emotionally fatigued, yes, it was a long day for those involved, but it was the most rewarding, wondrous day spent, meeting new friends and coming together in a circle of love, all in the name of Jessica. It was as if we all knew one another for a very long time and were reunited as a family! It was the most glorious day under heaven!

As we rest and reflect and bask in the glow of the events of one singular day, and are proud that we abandoned our laundry list of chores and errands, to simply celebrate life, we cannot help but thank God for the strength of Jessica's mother and family, and for the life of Jessica. Another lesson to learn as we seize the day and we celebrate what we do have, not dwell on what we do not.

How Do You Do It?

I get asked this question quite often...and there is really a wide spectrum of answers...How do you do it? When asked this, friends and family are really asking, how do you go on? How do you cope? How do you face life without your child? Maybe they are asking more. And always, my answer varies, yet there is one constant and that is without God above I know I would not be anywhere close to living a life, a full life, after losing a child, burying my young, vibrant, seemingly healthy 21 year old. As another mother I know is living in the physical pain of childbirth, only to be replaced by the pain and grief of releasing her baby, Faith, to God above, three days later, my heart hurts and I feel pain in places I never knew existed. That is how it has been since my own daughter left.

I wonder if there is a difference in losing a baby, no matter what the age, a toddler, a young child or an adult child on the threshold of her life. The pain has to be as intense, I guess it is just different. So many times I am thankful and blessed that we had Allison in our physical life for 21 years, that I have a short lifetime of memories to sustain me, that we got to see her plan for her life, and live so much of it in a short time. Yet, other parts of me yearn for the moment when I could see what she would have become, what she would look like, how she would be enjoying what was robbed by cancer. Today, though, I ache for Erica and her husband as they plan to lay to rest their three day old daughter.

So, back to the question...how do you do it? You do it because you must, to honor that loved one, to breathe for her, to make her proud, to make her smile, and believe me, when they are gone from your physical grasp, you can feel that smile, that nudge, that whisper, that love, in all parts of your mother's soul. As you felt the heartbeat grow stronger under your own heart as you carried that child, now she simply and yet magnificently resides there forever, and every beat of your heart cries out in happiness, pain, joy and sorrow, just as it did when she experienced life and you shared it with her. You do it because any kind of movement is necessary to feel again, to release some of the numbness, in time. You do it because you have others living and breathing with you, another daughter, a husband, a family and friends. You do it because to not do so would dishonor the life God has given me at this moment.

I cannot bear to look down the road of years without Allison, so I don't. I have today. That is all I know. And for today, I will do one new thing, find one new way, ask God as I do everyday to help me find my way, to show me what needs to be done, and I will listen. I will cherish every thing that used to be passed by or over very quickly. I will take the time to learn a new skill or give of myself to others. I will pray and I will be sustained. I will live this one day.

Summer Reading

I always loved reading in the summer. I could abandon the 10 pound college books as I worked on my Master's Degree, and I could leave behind the assigned books that were to lead to professional conversations, that is, until I went to a 12 month contract...not that I am complaining, I loved it, walking in a school building any time of year was a thrill, never knowing what the day would bring. So, once I went to school every day of the year, I saved my reading for beach time, twice a year, once to Hull and once to Florida and I would start reading upon take-off, keep reading through the vacation, and continue through landing! This summer, as I spent longer than usual in Hull, and an incredible time on the beach with friends and family, I read four books in three weeks...all fiction. I started with my favorite author, James Patterson, easy yet exhilarating reads, not having to think or reflect, just read and enjoy. One book was one chapter from being complete on the ride to Boston! I followed up with another one in a two day period. Then I needed more, I had brought two with me, selecting them from just looking at the cover and reading the back. I seem to be always drawn to books set in New England or Nantucket Island...imagine! So, when I chose these books, there was no indication that there would be anything but mindless stories of the lives of the women described on the cover. Yet, inside, as the stories unfolded, there were so many similarities to my life that I wondered why I hadn't written them. But they were fiction. Yet, they were not.

The first one was about two sisters, brought apart by family dysfunction early in life, but brought back together, with one ending up taking care of the other through a cancer diagnosis and treatment. As I read I found myself almost holding my breath, remembering all too well part of life that is best not thought of too often. I should have put it down, stopped, but somehow, like my own life and thoughts, I couldn't. The images were real and the remembering was difficult, yet I kept going. I have always had this "thing" that if I start a book, I must finish, and part of me just didn't want to go on, but I did, and for some strange reason, I knew I was meant to read that book. As if that were not enough, the second one, thought by me to be a light hearted saga of a summer on the island, not far from where I had just spent a week with my sister and four others, was far from the light reading I had expected. The ladies come to their cottage by the sea to spend a summer and face their burdens and issues. One leading character brought with her a new diagnosis of lung cancer. Again, I wondered, should I abandon this now or keep on reading...and true to form, I kept on reading. I am one, also, to believe, that if I have chosen a book it is for a distinct reason, but I began to wonder as I literally held my breath when the character's breathing got worse, when the treatments were intense, when the procedures patterned our own real-life story, the non-fiction of Allison's life, of our lives.

I literally almost felt a panic attack on the plane as I read the final chapters. I don't really know if I have ever had a true panic attack, but I think I came as close as ever when finishing the book. It was fiction, after all, but it was clear that the author had a purpose in sharing the pertinent details of lung cancer and the mental, emotional, physical toll it takes, that any cancer takes.

I had lost track of time on this two and a half week journey, spending time in my sister's town, while she visited my brother in law every day as he underwent a stem cell transplant for multiple myeloma, a blood cancer. While it was definitely vacation in our own cottage by the sea, shared the first week with women friends, then with Joe and Jennifer, the visit sparked so much more. This was also Allison's town, spending her summers and planning to do so for the rest of her life. And just three short summers ago, there we all were, in early August, for a once in a lifetime family reunion, cousins meeting cousins and all of our children. It was a memory overshadowed a bit by Allison's crankiness and inability to feel well as she got winded doing the simple tasks that once were part of her everyday life. Nine weeks later she had a lung cancer diagnosis and eleven weeks after that she was gone.

The visit, the summer reading, the memories, the diagnosis of my brother in law have all played havoc with my soul. I am sad and I am overwhelmed that she was not with us to share in the summer of 2009, just like she did every other summer that we could get there. I kept waiting to see her walk up the beach with her sister, to lay around in her Hull sweatshirt, to eat lobsters, to share in the moment. My heart aches with the desire to turn back the clock, still and always. Yet, not in the way I would have expected, there she was, in the pink sunsets, mid-day clouds, in the rolling waves, in the laughter of the house, in the way others shared stories about her, and in the complete and full double rainbow over the ocean. She whispers to us that she is guiding us and taking us places we would have never been, feeling and knowing that this is part of the plan laid out just for us, walking her uncle through his transplant and recovery, giving her aunt strength to keep going with hope and love, inspiring her sister to spend a week with her parents, just being and laughing and enjoying, for herself, but also for the one who left before us.

The summer reading brought about a purpose, it made me feel and know and re-live certain parts I would prefer to lay to rest, yet it brings me one step closer to acceptance, acceptance of what was and what is and what is to come. I know not where I will be today or tomorrow, but I trust I am guided by a loving Father who does, who has used Allison in such powerful ways that we would never have experienced, and for that we know this is a day to be grateful.