Time comes and goes without my really knowing how much has truly passed.  I was  asked by a few followers when my next blog was going to be posted.  I was not certain when I was going to post again as I have difficulty with finding the lens of optimism  that I have had the gift of looking through.  I always attempted to write in a hopeful manner to inspire myself mostly.  But, my journey cannot always be one of the rose coloured view.  Sometimes spending time in the darkness of grief, loss, and loneliness is needed.

Losing a child is the greatest heartbreak I can imagine.  It was always my greatest fear to have Chloe or Ryleigh die before me.  But having Ryleigh make the choice to die by suicide rips my heart to shreds.  Her suicide leaves me in a state of pondering—what clues were there? Was this a choice made form mental illness or from mental strength?  Isolation, pain, lack of hope for a “cure”, financial and familial stressors—she experienced all of this.  As a mother, how come I could not protect her from such misery.  I do not blame myself but am aware of the whispers around me of doubting my abilities to really know Ryleigh.  I taught both my daughters to believe in themselves, trust their decisions, and be independent.  Ryleigh through her choices showed us she could be that.

I am different—losing Ryleigh has made everything different.  I know I am strong and will find my way but I have had to come to terms with the fact that I am not who I used to be.   In reality this has affected all parts of my life—relationships, work, self care, and every day living.  It is not really negative—just different.

Those who are close to me may find the difference challenging to deal with as I am not as sensitive to other’s needs as I once was.  I cannot explain this.  I was once able to counsel, show empathy,  mediate, create stronger bonds, forgive, create moments where others feel loved and cared for. Yet now, I cannot find the strength to be there in the way I once was and as a result some of my relationships have fractured.  I am deeply sorry if I have not been the friend, sister, daughter, co-worker, teacher  that I once was.   I am navigating this difference in a way that only I can understand….I cannot explain it.  Sometimes I may be insensitive and hurtful, it is not my intention it  just happens.  Perhaps one day, I will venture back to being the person others want me to be.  But right now, I am who I am…please understand that my journey is now  different.

As another Christmas passes and we move into saying goodbye to 2016, I continue to be reflective wondering about how life moves on even when sometimes we can be stuck.  This past year has been a challenge yet immersed with moments of great wonder and joy.  I am constantly moved by the extremes of emotions one feels when they have lost a child especially by suicide.

I am blessed to have a deep connection with Chloe as she pulls me away from sadness and grief by her positive and thoughtful way of living.  It is strange to have her show me how to live for the moment, to embrace gifts that come her way, and to jump whole heartedly in making her life purposeful.  Chloe has moved to Dawson Creek to be with her boyfriend and obvious to me her life partner.  She is content, happy, and so sure of herself.  It is a blessing to see her create a home for her partner and her family of pets.  The way she does not let her pain or past struggles determine how she will live her life is so inspiring.

She is teaching me that staying in one place, one moment, or one event is not what Ryleigh wanted for us.  Ryleigh made a choice for herself and as we are learning for Chloe and myself.  Who am I to NOT embrace her choice and try to live a meaningful, joyful life.  I think because I am just a “bit” older and somewhat entrenched in my own experiences and beliefs it is a bit more challenging.

I am not afraid of the challenge yet so many memories and so many what if’s swim through my mind.  I have not only spent the last 18 years as a parent (much like most of you) but I have spent the last 15 years immersed in the lifestyle of being a hospital mom, full time teacher, and full time care giver at home.  I did not imagine that in the span of one year I would only have one of those responsibilities.  Eighteen months ago – I believed that I would be the lifelong care giver of Ryleigh.  That although she was bright, clever, and independent her body would not let her live the life she wanted to live.  I had not even planned or thought that I would be an “empty nester”.  I had not prepared mentally and emotionally for it.  So now I am adjusting…slowly but surely.

I am trying to figure out my new life. Living in a home that was made for a family – not for a single.  How do I use my time that was so immersed in hospitals, medicines, emotions, ostomy changes, doctor appointments, travel arrangements, teaching, making specific meals, and other typical parental responsibilities?

I am slowly trying to renew past interests and hobbies.  Trying to immerse myself in my own healthy pursuits and not spend all my extra time working on classroom and school “stuff”.  To retrain oneself from a busy lifestyle to try and relax is very hard.  I am not complaining but I wish it were because of different circumstances.

Spending time this holiday season with family has continued to enlighten me on the importance of those moments we often take for granted.  I am reminded that even during the temper tantrums, family arguments, long lists of things to do, balancing all aspects of one’s life that one should never wish it to be different. One can manage the stressors differently but when it is all taken away from you – you realize how precious those things are.

As a new year comes upon me.  I realize the what I need be (not do) this year.  I sincerely hope that as the new year comes upon me – I continue to truly figure out what matters in life.  I will continue to be strong in my beliefs.  I will advocate for those that cannot advocate for themselves.  I will dare greatly.  I will continue to build strong and heartfelt relationships and try to find peace and hopefully some resolve in relationships that have been damaged over time.

I am going to try and be adventurous and live life in a way where I will  dare greatly and continue to live strong.

All the best in 2017!

I have realized that this heart of mine will never mend.  This is a sad frame of mind but it is also a bit freeing.  Knowing that time does not heal all wounds – time just allows me to figure out ways to manage.  I have been reminded a few times of the significance of today – March 24th – six months since Ryleigh chose to end her life of pain and suffering.  Friends and family helping me cope with the 6 month mark…remembering and reminding how this must be a difficult day.

I reply (in an unintended rude tone) that every day is difficult.  And it is…from the start of the day to the end.  Difficult has been my journey  for many years but this is a whole different kind difficult.  It is relentless.  The endless wonderings of why? What could I have done differently?  The feeling of emptiness – realizing how Ryleigh was so much  part of my being and daily happenings.   I miss the hospital stays – how ironic is that! It was a time with Ryleigh that was focused, intense, real, and honest.

When Ryleigh and I used to stay up late together I would be so tired but I wanted to be there with her and for her but would wish for a full night sleep.  But now,  my nights are seemingly endless.  Not getting a full night sleep – but I do not wish for it anymore.

I am on Spring Break – lost on how I am going to spend the time.  I am not used to time. Chloe celebrated her 18th birthday and is finding her way to being independent.  Living in our basement – converting it into her little apartment.  She has left the nest so to speak.  A year ago I was not worried about letting her fly – because I still was on the parenting path with Ryleigh.  But now, I have been thrown into being an empty nester.  Something I looked forward to – but now I dread it.  I was not prepared…I was so busy caring for my daughters I do not know what to so now.  A friend said to me that is like I am untethered.  It is true…I am.   I feel lost in the grief not sure  of my role in the world anymore.  I spend time in Ryleigh’s room smelling her pillow and trying to remember as much as I can.  Memory is a weird thing…I remember the oddest moments with Ryleigh.  How she liked to have her ham and cheese cut in a particular way, her lipstick, butterflies and fairies, her music, and of course her giggle.

Remembering my  last 12 hours  with Ryleigh are bittersweet….

Ryleigh finally wanting to share her writing with her English teacher, Lisa Thiessen.

Having lunch with myself and a former student – chatting away about devices, apps, and what they both liked on the internet

Wheeling her down to her social studies class.  Getting her settled as inconspicuous as possible and as I walk out of the class room I hear her say “Mom?”.  I turn around and she comes right up to me giving me a big hug and sloppy kiss.  “I love you Mom, you are the best”.  She knew these were to be my last words I would hear from her.  She was always so generous with her love and caring.  I had no clue that would be my last conversation with her.  I told her I loved her too and that she was also amazing

Four hours later – I am in a panic as Ryleigh is unconscious and I cannot revive her.  Waiting for the ambulance.  Trying to resuscitate.  Hospital.  Decisions.  Singing her  the songs I used to sing to her as a baby as she took her last breath.

Now I am without her…wondering how to be.  My heart will always have a hole- the  work will be building a bridge over it so I can still be at least part the person Ryleigh loved.

It seems like a lifetime ago and yet it feels like I am still living the moment when I said goodbye to my sweet girl, Ryleigh.  There is so much that I wish I would change but know that the gift of hindsight is not to change the past but to use it to live better in the future.  I wonder often if that was Ryleigh’s plan as she chose to end the suffering she endured for so long.  I believe that Ryleigh wanted each one of us to live better because of her.

At times, I feel selfish for missing her.  I wish that she was still sitting on the couch beside me teasing me for my absentmindedness.  I wish I were still cooking separate meals for her so that she could at least eat something that agreed with her.  I wish I was still caring for her by changing her ileostomy pouch or rubbing her feet.  I wish I could see her and Chloe playing with the puppies and loving each other as only sisters can.  I feel selfish because although these things made me feel better and connected to her – she was losing her sense of well being and could not fathom living like she was for much longer.

I am overwhelmed by the sense of loneliness I feel. I am not alone – but still feel so lonely.  Missing Ryleigh’s energy and enthusiasm has created a void.

Luckily I have many wonderful people helping me figure out how to learn to be who I am know.  Losing Ryleigh has changed me forever.  I need to learn how to live as this different person.  It is not easy.  I am grateful for the normalcy of going to work each day and learning with my wonderful students.  They teach every day about grit, resilience, getting through challenges, and being compassionate.  Being able to focus my energy and time on teaching has allowed me to keep myself a bit distracted.

The pain and grief from losing a child is so hard to explain.  I am astounded by the complexity and layers that are unraveling as I try to move through my days as life still goes on.  Unfortunately, I have experienced the loss of my mother and other people olse to me.  Losing Ryleigh has far surpassed any of those experiences.    I am continually taken back to the moments that were the most traumatic for me.  My brain does not seem to want me to let go of these moments – finding her, trying to resuscitate, the hospital, and saying goodbye.  The hard part is that when I have the many positive memories of Ryleigh my brain and body resort to thinking and remembering the trauma.

I don’t believe time heals all wounds.  I believe that time just allows us to develop some coping skills to make it through another day.

As I reflect on this 24th day of January — I hope that the people in my life who are hurting and feeling lost find some peace.  I hope that my actions or lack of action has not contributed to anybody’s hurt or pain. I feel so different then how I was 4+ months ago.  I can only hope that the positives will outweigh the negatives.

Be kind to one another…you never know what the person beside you may have endured.

As our first holiday without Ryleigh comes to an end, I reflect on the moments that are so precious that we often take for granted or rush because we have something else to do. I had learned from both Chloe’s cancer and Ryleigh’s  illnesses  to embrace and appreciate the time together – even if it was riddled with stress, pain,medications, doctors, nurses,  needles, and the unknown.  I think I have always prepared myself  that I may have limited time with my girls – that is the product of having children with life altering diseases.  There is always a cloud of what if?   I will work hard to spend even more precious moments with Chloe (as much as she will let me).  To help her with managing her chronic pain as she enters another severe flare.  Grief, stress, worry, and missing Ryleigh contribute to her pain syndrome escalating.  Her body is swollen, she is fatigued, and her nerves are firing too much causing all parts of her body to hurt.  However, she still finds the strength to care for our precious puppies – Jakob, Remy, Oma, and Angel.

Although I am struggling with many parts of the grief and sorrow related to the sudden loss of my darling daughter, I am thankful for the many moments we had together. I know that one thing her illness gave me was real, meaningful, focused time:

• time travelling to appointments-  watching other travelers and wondering where they were going and why, teasing each other as we try to navigate  luggage and a wheelchair, having a meal  at the airport White Spot.
• time waiting for appointments or getting tests done –  discussions about games or videos Ryleigh would be watching or books that she found.
• time in hospital rooms waiting to find out what treatment may work – quiet time, laughing time, and sad times but moments that were meaningful and intimate.
• time in hospital rooms receiving the treatments – time waiting together hoping that this will be the treatment that works; making plans for what we will do once everyone is healthy; making plans to paint bedrooms, go on trips, train the dogs, make jewelry, and just do things!
• time  watching silly reality shows and making fun of them  at odd hours of the day and night because pain did not allow Ryleigh the comfort of sleep
• time to talk about the secrets of the universe or why people are the way they are  as I cleaned a central line or changed her ileostomy bag

I realize now, even more so, how precious these moment were and still are to me. Don’t misunderstand me – there have been many times I wish I had slowed down and not worried so much about all the stuff I had to do and instead work harder at being with my girls.

I have had people ask me how I have managed with dealing with all that has come our family’s way.  The only answer I have is – how can I not manage?  The gifts my daughters  continue to give me through their love, joy, and courage can only keep me focused on what’s important – appreciating the moments that we had and will have together.  I appreciate the arguments, frustrations, disappointments, and hurt just as much as the laughter, thoughtful conversations, hugs, and fun.

Moments together are what matters. It may be a cliche but it is one that is so true.    I am grateful that I learned a long time ago that each day may be my last with either of my daughters…so I selfishly held on to moments as long as I could.  I truly believe that I spent a lifetime with Ryleigh even though it was only 15 years. We did have a life time of moments together that I will hold on to forever.

Thank you to the wonderful town of Vanderhoof for helping us say “See Ya Later” to our darling Ryleigh.  It was an amazing night of love, kindness, and compassion.  Ryleigh wanted her life to be celebrated and it sure was a night of food,  music, laughter, tears, and stories of love and even some dancing.  It was so joyful for me to hear the ways that she lived her life in a positive way – something I will aspire to do every moment.  Her strength and courage will allow me to carry on and help make the world a better place; Ryleigh’s way… with love, laughter, smiles, humour, deep thinking, and kindness.  I love you Ryleigh, you will always be my treasure and joy.  Thank you for letting me be your mom.