A peek back in time

March 5, 2011

To Rachel:

It has been one of the toughest weeks of my life. The thought of never seeing your face and hearing your laugh again festers a feeling of anger deep in my soul. You brought so much love into this world, so much happiness. I take pride in the fact that you touched so many. At your funeral there were too many people to count.

You have made me a better person, and have truly made a difference in my life. You have shown me that I should fight to be the best I can be. Oh how I want to be like you in so many ways. I plan to knit, crochet and garden. I want to write more letters to friends and family and do more selfless acts of kindness to ensure that everyone in my life feels loved. I think that is one of the most important gifts you have given me. You lived a life that was so true to you, and like your Mom said at your funeral 'you didn't collect stamps or baseball cards, you collected people' and yesterday was a true testament to that. It was beautiful, and you were beautiful, inside and out.

We didn't know it but that pebble that seemed to be in your way of recovery was really a mountain. I have so many questions for you, but I know I will never get answers to them. The only comfort I can muster is from the belief that whatever higher power there is out there, he or she took you because you had served your purpose in this world. You were here to shine the light on what living life really meant. You opened your heart willingly to every person who crossed your path and by doing so you have been a true martyr for life. I know that if there were more golden people like you in the world it would be a better place.

I know all of what I say is true, and I wish I had told you these things, but I wish a lot of things. I wish I had more memories of you, and pictures and time. But I can't have those things and I never will, so from here on in there is no such thing as loving too much, giving too much or taking too many pictures. Because we only have today and tomorrows road is never certain.

I'm not you and can't expect to be as nearly special as you were, but if I can touch the world in some way, I just hope that it means I will have made you a proud friend and sister.

I'll love you always.

Callie

on being golden

What is it to be golden?

Does it spur from the golden rule used throughout the bible, do onto others
what you would have them do to you? Or is there another origin of this characteristic?

I have contemplated the true meaning of this over the past couple of months and
I frequently ask others if they feel the same way. Why I ask is because I picture
gold as something that is superior to other things, as it is raised up, valued,
wanted and beautiful.

‘Golden’ is the only word that I feel adequately describes both Rachel and Wally.

But I find myself asking people if it’s their death that made them golden, or was it
who they were that allows me to associate this attribute to them? Along with this
question I wonder if like Rachel and Walter, would I be considered golden too?

My love,

Sometimes I sit here and let the overwhelming sadness take me over, while other days I laugh about the little things you did that amazed me so much. As each day passes I spend time reminiscing about the future we may have had together and for this my heart aches. I find it particularly hard to bear on days where I am forced to leave behind or go without you to events or special occasions. I realize that soon all the plans we once made will stop coming and the idea of this saddens me.

I have so many precious memories that I hold so very dear to my heart. The first day we met, I remember being introduced to you after rugby practice. You were still wet with sweat and your muscles bulged out of your grey sleeveless shirt. I remember thinking how beautiful you were, but I was told you were off limits. It wasn’t more than a week or so later that we found each other attracted to one another like magnets. I remember flashes of that night, looking around the bar for you, it wasn’t hard to pick you out in your white and grey striped shirt and that massive grin that was permanently painted across your face. The level of excitement that I felt when I saw you walking towards me from the other side of the room was enormous. You held out your hand and not so gently pulled me towards the dance floor. You were intoxicating and I instantly fell in love with the way you danced, and this is not because you were an amazing dancer but because you thought you were and you loved every minute of it. You moved your shoulders back and forth in an uncoordinated fashion and it made me laugh. You always hated when I laughed at your dancing, and once told me you wouldn’t dance anymore if I kept it up.

It rained that night and instead of bee-lining it to the house from the cab I insisted we go run on the rugby pitch in the rain. We laid there looking up at what little stars we could see and soaked up the beauty that surrounded us. This spot is where I bowed down on the day of your memorial at the club, I did this before our game and I prayed for you to give me strength, I told you that I loved you and that I wanted to play hard so that I could continue to impress you with my talent. Since that night the pitch has been a special place for us, it was where we first met, where we spent a lot of our time and where I first told you I loved you.

After that night running around on the pitch in the rain, I woke up in your arms and quickly realized that you had somehow managed to keep me within your tight embrace for the whole night, a feat that most cannot say they have accomplished. We seemed to fit together perfectly like spoons. That day we got to know each other a little better and I could see that you were strong and tough, but I could also see right through you. You were more than the muscles and the athleticism you made yourself out to be; darling it was your eyes that gave this away. They had a look of kindness that could not fool me. I told you this, and compared you to a big teddy bear, oh you did not like that at all. I think that’s what I fell for first, which was your genuine kindness and tenderness for all people. Many at the house can attest to this, but it was evident that neither of us wanted to go home that day. And as soon as you left for home, I left too, and as I drove home I smiled, and giggled, I was giddy with delight and a desire to be yours.

Only several days later you were holding me in your arms every night and from then on forward we spent every waking moment possible together, almost like nothing else but you and I existed. Things with you were easy, and our lives, personalities and goals seemed to intertwine themselves into a beautiful puzzle. You have made me the happiest I have ever been, and I miss that happiness with all of my being. Every day I crave hearing your voice and waking up in your arms, but that cannot be. I know deep down in my heart that it will take time to find that happiness, but my that my time will come again to be able to smile and feel the way that you made me feel; so whole and complete.

Love,

Callie 

P.S. Baby I'm sharing this video to show everyone what a great dancer you were! <3 

tight embrace of a hug

I find myself talking to Wally on a regular basis and more often than not I know just exactly what his response would be. It makes me smile because he always had a witty and timely response for just about anything you threw his way. His humour and quick wit was one of the many things I adored about him, and I can honestly say that I couldn’t keep up with it.

Over the past couple weeks I have started to waddle my way out of the denial stage and have begun to accept that Wally in his physical self is gone. With this has come a significant increase (whoa I sound like a scientist) in sadness and crying. Which is not always a bad thing, as crying is necessary for the grieving process to move forward. Luckily, I am now back home and get the attention of my loving mom whenever I need it. But I know that over time the waves will become less frequent and their strength less strong.

Since being back I have had the opportunity to meet with someone, who like me lost their partner to a tragic accident. I was amazed when I first became aware of our commonality for two reasons, the first was: before experiencing this loss I didn’t realize how frequently tragedies like these actually occur. And secondly, I was shocked to find out that we were both dealing with our loss in similar ways. Like me, Charles has started a blog (check out his blog at: http://charlesmulhern.blogspot.ca/) about what he learned from his partner, Edyta (beautiful name!). He’s a natural born philosopher (in person and in his blog) so he’s got quite a skill with words. The most interesting part is that I can pick out many parallels within our posts; which are merely just worded differently to suit our writing styles and personal experiences. But very cool to see!

When we finally met I found comfort in being around someone who knew just exactly what I was going through. Half the time I found we were both saying “EXACTLY” or “oh me too”. It was a nice change. Now unlike Charles, I have come to realize that some of my friends just can’t seem to comprehend why some days I NEED to cry my eyes out or that I allow myself to feel sad. I know they mean well and I love them for being there but my advice to anyone who is trying to provide comfort is do not lecture or try to provide advice on what you think someone should do to feel better, because it is in no way helpful, in time they will learn to cope through their own methods. But I emphasize their time. The best thing someone could do for me during the times when sadness overtakes me is to just be around to make me smile, laugh or just to listen to me. It’s hard to understand but usually the best kind of support doesn’t come in verbal form but comes from the tight embrace of a hug.

I started a memorial group on facebook (https://www.facebook.com/groups/288102741302684/?fref=ts) because I really find comfort in hearing the stories that people have to say about Walter. And even though I sit there and cry while I read every single one of them it just solidifies what an amazing person he was. Only a few people have posted so far but I hope as time goes on more people will be open to the idea of sharing their stories about him.

Godspeed. 

fire to the soul

It comes up in almost everything I do. Its patience and it’s something I usually lack, which is why I never finished learning how to knit, why I never learned to play the guitar and ultimately why I’m always in a hurry. I’m the type of person who likes to see results, and I like to see them fast! I rush into relationships, speed when I drive and I get anxious at the idea of something taking too long – even if it’s life. Yes you heard me I want life to hurry up sometimes. For instance I want to find my path, like where life is taking me next, cause right now my path looks like it’s taking me back to live in my Mom’s basement, to my make shift room, and I kind of resent the idea of doing this (sorry Ma).

Recently I called my Mom with the sole intention of asking her one question, it was “even as a child was I always this impatient?” Her answer immediately with zero hesitation was “YES!” Dammit! So this has been a part of who I am since I was a child! No wonder why it’s been so hard to try and change, because at this point I feel as if I’ve only shaved off one of the many layers that this, we’ll call it a flaw, is made up of.

I remember while I was growing up that I was always looking around and hoping that my prince charming would hurry up and find me. Unfortunately impatience of this kind definitely played a negative role in my teen years, as I continuously thought that every guy I was seeing would be the one I would marry. What I did was settle, and I settled for almost any guy who would pay attention to me. Unhealthy? VERY! In that time I dated some pretty ridiculous guys, who now I think back to and say what was I doing?! So this brings me to today’s lessons.

Lesson # 7 – Don’t settle

This lesson can be used in many aspects of our lives, but ultimately means don’t stay in a place in which you are not happy, and also don’t settle for half ass – meaning, work hard and do what you are capable of. But I want to focus on the relationships aspects of this lesson.

I have been mulling this lesson over in my brain for a while because I really don’t know how to describe how I learned it and I couldn’t come up with the right words to do it justice. But this is what I managed to come up with. On the day of the accident, Wally and I had a conversation about my past boyfriends, he seemed to be confused as to why I chose the guys I did, and to be quite honest I don’t know why I picked some of the (I’m not saying they’re all bad, but there was definitely some that I was not compatible with). He asked me “why did you settle?” and my answer was that I didn’t know why. Now in comparison to Wally, my ex-boyfriends didn’t compare, he dumbfounded me on a regular basis. It was when he would divide large numbers to the decimal point, or because he had the memory of an elephant or how he would think through every possible situation, he was exceptional in so many ways. Now that day during our philosophical discussion on the dock I told him that he made me feel inferior. I explained that it was not because I was lacking confidence but because he always found ways to amaze me, he truly was just that, he was superior.

I know now that it will take a VERY special man to entice me into a relationship. I’ve learned not to jump at any chance I get and I know that one day I might find someone who will stun me and challenge me as much as Walter did. And I’m sharing this personal experience with you in hopes that maybe you can take something from this and even if it’s once, you choose not settle for something that isn’t worth you. I feel that we should never settle for mediocre love, we should only settle for the type of love that brings fire to the soul and happiness to the heart.

messages from heaven

Last night before bed I made a note to take the time to write another post. I wasn’t sure of what the topic would be, but this morning it literally jumped in front of my face when I woke up from my first dream about Walter since he passed away. No people get your mind out of the gutter it was not sexual! It was way better than that.

In my dream we were in two places, driving in a car (where we usually had our best talks) and at his parents’ house. My favourite part of the dream was near the end when we were dancing; he always liked to twirl me around. While we were dancing we talked about a few things – something that made me laugh and the other was how much he loved me. It was both comforting for me but also made me very emotional. I had a similar dream about Rachel after she passed, but I had to wait several months longer for her to grace my presence in that way. She must have had a lot of other friend’s dreams to visit! Now, the similarity between these dreams is that I recognized that I was in a dream and that I tried to hold them for as long as possible because I knew my time with them was limited. I actually mentioned in both dreams that I was dreaming and trying to understand why I knew or felt that way has proven to be very challenging, but I will never know.

What is special about these types of dreams is that they are so vivid that you feel like it’s real! You also tend to remember every detail when you wake up. I don’t think it is our imagination that creates these dreams or else I would dream about Walt every night. I believe they are one of the many messages from loved once who have passed. After reading “Talking to Heaven” by James Van Praagh (which I highly recommend for anyone to read), I have begun to recognize that these messages frequent our paths in so many different forms everyday and only sometimes we are observant and open enough to get the chance to decipher them. No I’m not talking about spirits talking to you or hearing things, but things showing up when you need them, like seeing something like a name or saying in a random place, shapes in clouds or even happy green circles in a picture (see pictures below).

Trish Johnson, a very close friend of Rachel posts this picture and captions it: 

‘A little love from above... Awesome! (I couldn't resist taking this photo 

while on my way to work out class this morning)’

Rachel’s sister Melissa, pictured here in the middle of the kiss sandwich, posts this 

picture on a friends wall and writes, ‘A few minutes before Michaela and I went 

bungee jumping in Nanaimo - just thought you'd appreciate the large, happy 

green spots :)’

Both of these give me goosebumps and make me smile from ear to ear. People, especially those whoa re grieving, beg for these types of signs; I know I have, but it's really not that simple. But when we really need it, those are when our loved ones seem to find just the right place to send their messages of love. 

Lesson #6 - Be open to messages, they are everywhere

saddest ever

So today has been  of those days where all I did was think. I noticed that I've been on edge since my Mom left, so I think tonight was my breaking point. Also I've been questioning my emotions lately because I've found myself to be invincible to anything that has to do with Wally. Looking at pictures or talking about him didn't seem to phase me. I guess that's because I'm numb? Mama Spearing says it's the way our bodies help us to cope. It naturally gives us things to sort through our sorrow and does so in little increments rather than all at once.

Tonight, I was looking through pictures from the summer and I noticed in one of my favourite photos of the two of us that Walt was looking at me. For some reason I had the sudden urge to see the expressions on our faces. Da da da dummm, ladies and gents that's how you get Callie to cry like a baby.

Looking at this brings me back only two short months ago when you couldn't pull me off him. I looked at Walter once while we were in the car and in a serious tone I told him that he has made me the happiest I ever remember being. And truly he did. He used to look at me after we argued or sometimes just asked me in the heat of the moment 'happiest ever?' Of course I would reply with yes. Everyday, I miss being this happy, but mostly I miss him, and it hurts so much to feel these things. Deep down I know that doing things with my life (like being on Manitoulin Island) will help, and I know that I'm strong enough to try and be productive, but sometimes I just need to allocate some time to cry. And that's okay, I'm allowed. So, lesson # I've lost count is give yourself permission to lay in bed for a day and wear you PJs, cry or do any of the other things that make you feel good, but make sure not to let it become a habit. 

As for the title of this post, it comes from when I held Wally's hand in the hospital and begged him not to make me the 'saddest ever' and unfortunately even though I'm grateful for the time I got to spend with him, and I had the chance to make some of the most amazing memories with him, I can't remember a time in my life when I was ever this sad. 

Hopefully tomorrow is brighter.