Truly You Life Coaching and Grief Recovery Specialist

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Self-reflection and learnings garnered from living a life of passion and grief recovery. 
Also a place to store my thoughts and memories for those I love long after I am gone. 
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6/5/2017

9 Lessons on Living as taught by the dying

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Spending time with a loved one in the last days of life is an honor and a privilege.
​DD entered my life when I was six years old, two years after we’d moved back to the prairies so that I could start school, leaving behind the coastal world that had been my life up until that time. 

It was a very difficult time for me, a chubby little outsider, as I entered the walls of that system not knowing any other children, not knowing until then that I was ‘fat’, not knowing it wasn’t okay to be too smart or even talented because that made you a teacher’s pet in the eyes of the other children, not knowing how tough life could be just being a kid.

DD was Mr. Dobbin to me then, the principal of the school.  He was a different Mr. Dobbin on weekends, as one of my Grandfather’s best friends. We’d often venture into the hills on Sundays to visit him and his wife Doris.  That relationship put him in an awkward position the first time I was sent to his office when I was in Grade 2.   I had blurted out the F word in a fit of anger at another 7-year-old who was tormenting me with teasing and hair pulling.  I’d only just learned the word days before when I’d seen it written on the school wall and had been told it was a very bad word that you only used when you were really, really mad at someone.  At that moment I was really, really mad.  Standing in the principal’s office I waited for the strap that everyone had said was inevitable if you ended up being sent there.  It didn’t come, instead I received a stern but compassionate explanation that even when you are really, really mad in grade two, using that word still wasn’t a good idea.

Fast forward 30 years, and Mr. Dobbin became DD, my father-in-law.  He remained in that role until the day of his death in April, for although I had been widowed when his son passed and I had remarried in the years following, there was never another father-in-law.  He, in return, never let me forget I was his favorite daughter-in-law, and even created a day in June to celebrate that sending a card amended to read just that each year.  We had a deep and special friendship for many, many years as he supported my continued farming of the land that had once been his.  He embraced the new people that came into my life as a result of my own remarrying, and he was a kind and patient confident for so many of my life’s events.

When I decided to make the move back out to the coast last year, I worried about how I was going to tell him that we were selling much of the farmland that had once been his, and that the house he’d built would be lived in by a renter while we explored other possibilities for our lives elsewhere.  When I visited to tell him, it turned out he already knew about that, as people who felt it was their duty to relay all that they ‘thought’ I was doing had already been busy on phone calls to him.  His words to me were that he knew that we loved the water and fishing, and we were young and should be exploring other things in life while we had our health and energy.  His words regarding those that had meddled in the business that should have been between he and I were not so kind.  It wasn’t often you saw DD angered by people, but he had little tolerance for those that chose to stir pots in an attempt to cause unnecessary trouble for others.
 
One of my fears about moving away was that I’d be so far away from him, but we kept in touch bi-weekly through phone calls, and I made sure we had good, meaningful visits when I was back in the province.  I also promised him that I’d be there when needed, and when his daughter called to tell me that things were not good and that he was being put on comfort care, I was on the next plane east to be there for him. 

He was the fifth loved one that I would sit vigil with as his days wound down. I’d learned much from the previous deaths I’d walked alongside and through the interest I have in reading end of life support books.  Still, with every new death, much of what is forgotten resurrects itself, and new learning takes place. As had happened previous times, in being there, I found myself becoming more present and responsive to the hours and needs of this man who had been a part of my life for so long, and was grateful that I had the means and the support to be with him on this last leg of his 98-year journey. 
The first night I arrived I feared I was already too late to enjoy that small, last window of time where communication and sharing was possible, as he was so unresponsive when I arrived at the care-home at midnight.  But the next morning when I returned at 7 he was wide awake and so happy that I was there.  We spent much of the next few days reminiscing about the loved ones lost, and I was grateful that I had memories of many that so few are left to remember now.  He shared more stories of his childhood and his family.  He relished moments with his wife, daughter and grandchildren, as life had blessed him with a second family late in life, and you could see the adoration he had for the little ones that were so important to him.
​
We took turns as a family spelling each other off when needed, and being there together for support when that seemed the more important choice to make.  Throughout the days, I started to be reminded of things that often only the dying can remind us about.  These are some of those things. 
  • Eat dessert first.  DD’s appetite came and went in the first few days.  The second day I was there his sister and her friend brought in some nice, soft store-bought shortbread cookies.  When the meal tray would come in, he would take a look at the offering, replace the lid and ask for a cookie instead.  “I don’t have much of an appetite, might as well eat the good stuff first,” and so he did, closing his eyes, chewing slowly and deliberately, savoring every morsel and bite.  How often to we refuse the ‘good stuff’ because we think we should do differently, whether it’s in our eating, our leisure time, or in so many of our day to day lives?  Sometimes we should embrace life just like we were having it slip away on us, and just go for the dessert first. 
  • It's not the dying who most resemble the walking dead.  I took a break for a meal, and ended up in a busy chain restaurant for lunch.  On the days where one is living and breathing death, you begin to notice more things more vividly, and what I saw was that we the living are the ones that are the most zombie-like.  I saw it all around me in the days I sat vigil.   In a local Montana's watching the faces of people wolfing down their meals, preparing for the next thing to happen on this day.   I watched kids coloring, their works of art unnoticed as their parents stared at their phones, mindlessly pushing the food into their mouths, while their eyes never left their phone screens.  Selfies, foodies, a lot of people who look so alone while together.  I, in honesty, have to admit most days I am one of them, until life gives me another one of her grounding reminders.  My father in law was that time’s touchstone.  He was dying, and in that dying I witnessed how he noticeably relished every moment of connection that presented itself. As I sat eating my lunch, I could sense that the man across the restaurant was also dying, I recognized the signs and the gaunt discolored look of his features, and I saw his focus, appreciation, deep tasting of the food and its textures. I could see it in the attention he was giving to the words of his dining partner.  What could we learn if we relished moments the way those that know they are living their last do?  
  • Even at 98 you can have one more best day ever.  I arrived late on Thursday night, Friday much of the day was spent bedside with his daughter, his grandchildren, my daughter and my grandson.  Other beloveds came and went, and at the end of that DD, embraced each of us in the biggest hug I’d ever received from him, sharing that ‘this was the best day ever, I had all my family together here with me’. 
  • Time and respect should be given before hand, not just on the last days.  Too often we put off spending that time with those we love, because our lives are busy and our calendars are full.  Then when we get the call that the end is near, there is the panic of how to get there to spend time and be with.  But that is not the time, the time was last year, or last month, when conversations could flow and medication did not stifle it.  I remember hearing him whisper 'I wish they'd come last week instead.'  The time is when your loved one says ‘come by and see me sometime’.  Life is fleeting and precious, and we forget that. 
  • Laughter is the best medicine.  On days that can be seemingly the hardest, there is still room for laughter and joking.  The dying person doesn’t want our sadness and our heartbreak, they want to celebrate the good times, the funny things, the gifts of life that made us laugh out loud.  They want to laugh with us for as long as they can, and they want to hear us sharing together when they are no longer able to.   The sadness is within us, and will stay there for a long time to come, however, it doesn’t have to be the only thing.  There is always room for laughter, it truly is the best medicine for everyone. 
  • Babies don't worry, they just shine in their own light. In the days we spent, three little ones spent time with us on and off.  They remind us of the preciousness of life, of the fresh start, the innocence of being through their busy, exploring little hands and their inquiring presence that refused to be dimmed by the dying happening close at hand.  They are not afraid to ask the questions that the dying one is open to answering.  They are not afraid to snuggle into the familiarity of the one they love, even though the process is changing that person.  They just continue to be the bright, shining spirits that they are, and they brighten the corners we abide in. 
  • There are no timelines, pace yourself... Self care. There is no timeline for the process and best guesses are just that.  We have to remember that as we pace ourselves and look out for each other.  Too often people are afraid to leave the room in case their loved one passes when they are gone, and as noble as that might seem, the one that loves them back knows they were there for all the times that mattered most and wants them to take care of their own health.  Take the offerings of time to go shower, eat, grab a coffee or just sleep in your own bed.  Understand that the act of dying is only the first step of a long journey of grief that will take time and energy to walk through.  Of all the kindnesses that can come from inside you as you support a loved one who is dying, make sure some of that kindness is bestowed upon yourself.
  • So many good things can come out of sitting bedside. I was once again reminded that in every loss, something is gained.  We forget that, or don’t think to look for the gift.  In DD’s death, I lost my father in law, but I gained a sister.  There is a large age difference between myself, who was connected more through his first family and his daughter, who is from his second.  There was always love, admiration and knowing...but only to an extent, as opportunities for deeper connection were seldom available.  The experience of walking this road together let us get to know, admire and love each other in a completely new way and deeper level that has opened a doorway to a new, different relationship that will continue as we live his legacy.
  • Just be present.   At no time are we pushed to be more present than when sitting bedside, with a dying loved one.  Allow that.  Forget the phones, the social media, and the list of things you could/should/would be doing.  There is nothing more important than what you are doing in honoring their life by honoring them at their time of death.  Leave space for what is most important to them; the stories, the memories, the hopes, dreams and even the regrets.   Even at 98, I was reminded that each of us wish we had done some things differently.  Each of us wants to know that those we love recognize we did our very best, even if it wasn’t by the book or what other’s might have expected of us.  Each of us want to know that we are loved and will be remembered, and that we made an impact and made a difference having existed.  Listen deeply to the words, then look in and between those words for the deeper meaning of what is trying to be conveyed, then honor that sharing, by being present and responsive.  In the days to come, the ordinary will be there to go back to.  Embrace the extraordinary gift of being witness when it matters most.  Learn from that gift and let it walk with you into the days ahead, and work hard to remember the learning.  Life will be so much more alive if you can. 

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7/8/2015

A perfect day...by accident

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PictureCruising on my quad, on a lovely July day.
Yesterday was a perfect day. I had no idea that it was going to be when it started out. In fact in the morning I was a little miffed that I had to go to Treherne with Cecil when he went for lab work. I'd gone to Portage the day before to get a criminal record check, only to be told there that I had to get it in my own area, the Treherne office. So I begrudgingly headed into town with him.

As we got that done, we headed on a drive to Elm Creek to pick up the tarp for the boat, then had lunch in St. Claude and headed for home. It was a beautiful, sunny day, the first we've had for ages with all the smoke that has filled our skies from the wildfires across the country. I decided if I was going to get any pictures of the canola fields that were in bloom, today would be the day, as the smoke and haze is supposed to come back in the next day or so.  

When we got home, we both decided that we'd go to our day's projects on the quads. He would ride with me to the field I wanted to photograph, and then we'd carry on in our separate directions. I'd intended to just go to the one field and head for home...but I got sidetracked. More than sidetracked...I got lost in the day...and it was glorious.  

I ended up going from one field to another up along PR242. Then headed for home past Mom and Dad's old place. Some of the back-roads I took were so overgrown with clover, you could barely see the trail through, but the sweet smell of the clover was captivating. I'd forgotten how those sights and smells can take you away from your everyday into something magical. 

I made stop after stop, turning of the quad, listening to the sounds around me and photographing the wild flowers in the ditches.  As I was about to head for home, I ran into a neighbor that told me the pink lady-slippers were in bloom over by the cemetery, so I changed directions again and headed off in search of them, the wind in my hair, the dragonflies surrounding me.

In the end, four hours just disappeared. I never once took my cell phone out of my bag to check for messages, or Facebook or anything else. The time was just mine, capturing the beauty of nature, preserving it's magnificence digitally for days to come when that kind of escape might not be possible.

Back at home, I had to reflect on why I don't allow myself to do that more often than I do. Our days of summer are so limited. Our days are limited, period. Why not grab on to those moments when they appear and go be with nature, with no regrets or excuses..to yourself or others.

I look at all that is going on in the world. All the pain, the wars, the anger. I wonder when was the last time, if ever, that some people have had the opportunity to be lost in the timelessness that I was blessed with yesterday. Have the had the chance to sit in the grass, stare at the sky, explore the wildflowers and just breathe. Even more important...Just BE.  If people had more opportunities to commune with Mother Earth, would there be that anger and disconnect that is so prevalent today? I don't thing so, and I know that it's not easy or possible for everyone. Most of the world does not live in the boon-docks as I do...but what if they could find a way to just spend some time away from it all. All the noise, all the buildings, all the other people who are also in that space. I wonder and I wish that opportunity for all, just every now and then.


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12/11/2014

This year #GivePresence

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I found this video just at the perfect time, and it resonates to deeply with the things I'm feeling these days.  My husband will tell you and confirm, that I am as guilty as anyone of multi-tasking...especially when it's just he and I.  Why do we do that, why do we work so hard to keep connected with people and groups and causes around the world, at the neglect of the one who is sitting here right within reach.  I know I'm not the only one, but I am the only one I can make change this habit.

We all find it so easy to get distracted.  To keep checking for texts and facebook notices and instagram pictures...that we miss out on the connection that is right in front of us.  To be Truly Me, I have to get better at that.  This video was a great reminder to me to be more present especially here at home, where at the end of the day, it's where your presence is most valued, most appreciated and most remembered. 

Take a moment to watch the video, then tell me it doesn't strike a chord!  This season I hope more of us can commit to #GivePresence in our homes, our communities and in all places where we have an opportunity to make an impact! 

WARNING: It does manage to drop an f-bomb, that I'd prefer they hadn't, because I think we can get messages across to people without resorting to that , but I do like the underlying message.








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    It takes time and energy to become who we truly are!  In life, so many things can get in the way of our figuring that out..but the time comes in each of our lives where we need to be able to do that if we're going to live happy fulfilling lives that are authentic reflections of our best selves.  These are just things I've learned along the way.  I hope that they might help you in your own journey into being Truly You!

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My first love has always been music.  Writing songs and putting words the my life experiences has brought me joy for as long as I can remember, I hope it will do the same for you.
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