Littlefoot Loses His Mom

I took my grandsons to see the classic children’s film, The Land Before Time. This heartwarming tale of baby orphaned dinosaurs teaches many life lessons in its 69 minutes.

Littlefoot loses his mother following a battle with a Tyrannosaurus during the great earthshake. There were four important scenes for me that beautifully depicted the sorrow of losing a loved one and the grief journey we endure as a result.

The first was Littlefoot’s mother explaining to him that she was dying but she would always be with him even though he won’t be able to see her. He asks, “What do you mean? I can always see you.” She tells him to let his heart guide him as he journeys to the Great Valley to reunite with his grandparents.

In another scene, Littlefoot feels immense sadness and even anger. He meets up with an older dinosaur and tells him that his mother died in a fight and he is angry that she took on a Tyrannosaurus… What was she thinking? Then he shifts to guilt… “I shouldn’t have wandered so far from home.”

In the picture shown here, Littlefoot has lost his desire and passion to search for the Great Valley. He is lethargic and dismisses any signs of hunger. Here he doesn’t even acknowledge the food brought to him by his new friend, Petrie.

The scene that gripped my heart the most was when Littlefoot sees his shadow, which is larger than life in the distance on a rock bluff, and he thinks it is his mommy. He calls her and runs to her. The closer he gets, the smaller the image becomes. As he jumps up and licks the image, which is now his size, he realizes that it is only his shadow. My heart broke for this little cartoon character, knowing that we all long to see our loved ones again and it’s common to be caught unaware and think we may even see them in a crowd after they have died. Logically we know it can’t be real, but our heart refuses to follow logic… it simply skips a beat (or many) and leaves us yearning and wishing that it were possible.

Littlefoot bands together with four other orphans along the way as he searches for his extended family. These little creatures are from different species and would not be allowed to associate with one another, let alone travel together, had the great earthshake not happened. But they put aside the prejudices they were taught to stick together. They fight famine and danger and beat all odds, eventually coming to the area of prehistoric Earth (Great Valley) which was spared from the big disaster. Littlefoot learns to follow his heart and look to his mother’s spirit as she guides him, just as she promised. He is reunited with his grandparents.

As we left the theatre and walked to the car, I chatted with my grandchildren about the great lessons of life that this film taught. It wasn’t lengthy. I kept it brief and talked about how our loved ones are always in our hearts even though we can no longer see them and that one day… no matter how long it takes… we will all meet up together in the lush, beautiful and carefree, Great Valley.

Move from Judgement to Compassion

In this past week, there have been a number of deaths due to avalanches. In the Cascade Mountains (northeast of Seattle) four people were killed in two avalanches and in British Columbia, two individuals were killed in two days as a result of avalanches. On average, there are approximately 150 deaths reported each year by 17 countries who are members of the International Commission for Alpine Rescue (ICAR).

Because these deaths occurred in the backcountry, it is easy to pass judgement because these people lived on the edge and were engaging in an extreme sport with known risks. From what I read those killed had experience and were well-equipped. In that context, are these risk-takers, who are trained and equipped, any different than the racing car driver who has years of experience and is decked out in all the available equipment? Both are a risk. Both can result in death because of a slight error or miscalculation.  

I am no different than others. Initially, I want to ask, “Why would anyone ski or snowmobile in the backcountry when it is so dangerous?” Then I want to add, “It’s just plain stupidity.” And then I remember: Each one of these people is someone’s loved one. They have family and friends who are left behind and who have a long road of sorrow before them.

I think it is important to use these deaths to promote awareness and to educate people on the dangers, especially if they don’t have experience or are properly equipped. Having said that, we need to remember that those left behind need our support, love and understanding of the path they will walk. They don’t need judgement about the risk their loved one took; they need our compassion.

On the flipside, the family and friends left behind may experience judgement and anger towards their loved one for taking such a risk. This is normal. If you are supporting someone who is feeling anger because a loved one died from engaging in a high-risk sport, don’t attempt to suppress their feelings. They need to work through it and to feel what they are feeling. Again, move from judgement of what they are feeling or how they are handling the situation to one of compassion and love.

These deaths are tragic and my heart goes out to the families and friends left behind. May their memories of their loved one bring them comfort, joy, and peace.

I'm Free

This beautiful poem was read by Dionne Warwick at Whitney Houston’s funeral. My wish is that it brings comfort to all who need it.

I'M FREE
Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free
I'm following the path God has chosen for me.
I took His hand when I heard him call;
I turned my back and left it all.

I could not stay another day,
To laugh, to love, to work or play.
Tasks left undone must stay that way;
I've now found peace at the end of day.

If my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joys.
A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss;
Oh yes, these things, I too will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow
Look for the sunshine of tomorrow.

My life's been full, I savored much;
Good friends, good times, a loved one’s touch.
Perhaps my time seems all too brief;
Don't lengthen your pain with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and peace to thee,
God wanted me now-He set me free

Author: Shannon Lee Moseley.

Don’t Wait ~ Make the Call

On Sunday night (February 12, 2012) as my husband and I sat watching the Grammys on television, I was typing a blog on the computer at the same time. While I was typing a thought popped into my head: “Shoot, I need to call Wynne.”

Wynne, also fondly known as Angel Wynne, was a dear friend of mine and had been for 18 years. She was elderly, but as spry and full of life as anyone! She was smart, loving, spiritual, and she could render a room of people breathless from laughter when telling stories of her many adventures in life. She had a wicked sense of humour, and she always made people feel pure joy when in her company.

Wynne shared the same birthday as my daughter, Dale – December 17^th. Never did she miss lighting a white candle when I would go to visit her. She told me that her father taught her to do that: Light a white candle for your visitors to bring love, joy and protection to them.

She loved life. She lived with flair and glamour. She loved her friends and made us all feel like family. She adored her sons and their families. She cut through the drama in life and saw the importance of doing what was right for oneself and for the people they loved. She believed in God, Angels and the power within each of us to do more, to be more, to give more, to have more. She was an avid “student of the Universe” always taking in classes, discussions, and reading books that would broaden her understanding of the meaning of life. In fact, that is how Wynne and I met. We sat down beside one another in a Feng Shui course; our friendship began then and there and spanned nearly two decades.

In December, I spoke with her just before her birthday. She was chatty and full of wisdom. She was motherly and loving on the call, encouraging me to take good care of myself because she knew my husband was very ill. She told me that her and our good friend Lorna, were coming to visit for a few days, likely in May.

When the thought popped into my head on Sunday, it was 8:30 pm. I made a mental note that I better call her on Monday afternoon when I got home from a meeting. When I walked in the door the next afternoon, my husband told me that Lorna had called and really needed to reach me. I stopped in my tracks. I knew. Wynne had died. And I hadn’t made the call.  I know this stuff! I know we shouldn’t put things off with people. I know that what is here today in this moment could be gone in the next – forever! I hadn’t practiced what I preach, pure and simple.

I called Lorna right away and found out that Wynne had been admitted to hospital late Saturday and remained there until she died in the wee hours of the morning on Monday. So had I called, I would have not been able to speak to her and I wouldn’t have known she was in hospital. It would have played out just as it had anyway. Nonetheless, I wished I had called her. I had thought about her several times in recent weeks and didn’t act upon it. Putting that aside, Wynne exited this world in the way she wanted, when she wanted and on her own terms. Knowing that, I do believe my “thought” to call her on Sunday was more of a connection coming from her to me… to let me know she was thinking about me too. That’s the way Wynne was and that’s how our relationship was.

It was fitting for me that she died on what would have been my mom’s 82^nd birthday. It was fitting because when my mom was dying, Wynne came to visit her the day before she passed. In Wynne’s style, she started to tell stories that had us literally holding our sides in laughter. I laughed. My sisters laughed. And our mom laughed. We all laughed until we cried. After Mom died, Wynne spoke to me and was apologetic as though she had been disrespectful telling the funny stories that she had. I told her how much we needed it. It had been three intense weeks with our mom making funeral arrangements and trying to come to terms with losing her. The laughter brought some relief and made us feel ‘normal’ again, even if it was just for a few hours.

So on Monday, after I received the news of her death, I did what Wynne would have done. I lit a white candle for her in an angel candleholder, and beside it I lit a pink one for my mom in an angel candleholder. The flames of their candles flickered and danced together at the edge of my desk while I worked throughout the afternoon – in just the way I imagine they were greeting one another in heaven.

Once again I have been reminded about the fragility of life. Once again I have been reminded that we all have that little voice within us and we need to listen and act upon it. Once again I have been reminded that there is a plan greater than all of us – and once again, I am reminded that there are no coincidences in life and we meet everyone for a reason.  

On the wings of angels, fly my friend fly… God speed Angel Wynne.

Will You Care When I Die

The iconic Whitney Houston’s life ended on February 11, 2012. At 48 years of age, talent beyond comparison, and an undeniable beauty, one would think Ms. Houston’s world was one of bliss and privilege. It probably was at one time or another, but she also had her demons and struggles, as others do.

An untimely death like Whitney Houston’s rocks not only the music industry, but it also has impact on millions of adoring fans. The pain of suddenly losing someone so loved ripples far and wide. The sorrow… the shock… the disbelief… the feeling of how can this be happening… arising from the diva’s death, albeit magnified by her stardom, is completely normal for the circumstances and not unlike what regular folk experience.

Close family friends of mine also lost a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly this past week. They too are engulfed in sorrow… shock… disbelief… and the feeling of how can this be happening. The circle of family and friends touched by this husband and father’s death is miniscule in size when compared to that of Ms. Houston; however, the suffering and broken hearts of those left behind is comparable. Their lives have changed. And he will be forever missed.

Death, especially our own, isn’t something people like to talk about. Whether we talk about it in the open or not, the one thing that I am confident in guaranteeing is that each of us want to matter. We want to know that we are loved and that our life makes a difference here in this world. We want to know that people care about us when we are alive and after we die.  We want to know that world was a better place because we were here.

The deaths of both Whitney Houston and my friend matter. The deaths of hundreds of thousands of people, unknown to me or to you or to Ms. Houston’s friends, also matter. It all matters. I matter. You matter. And people will care that we die when it happens.

Today, February 13^th, would have been my mother’s birthday. Her life and her death mattered. She was an inspiration and gifted in her understanding of the Universe and how it applied to our daily living. As I honour and contemplate the meaning of her life today, and in honour of my friend and Whitney Houston, I will do my best to show people that I care. I will care today, tomorrow… and always.

A Smile

This picture is of my grandson, Sam. I can't help but smile whenever I see it. Allowing ourselves to smile, even though our heart is breaking, can offer a welcomed reprieve from the journey of grieving. What made you smile today?

A smile costs nothing, but gives much-

It takes but a moment, but the memory of it usually lasts forever.

None are so rich that can get along without it-

And none are so poor but that can be made rich by it.

It enriches those who receive, without making poor those who give-

It creates sunshine in the home,

Fosters good will in business,

And is the best antidote for trouble-

And yet it cannot be begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is of no value

Unless it is given away.

Some people are too busy to give you a smile-

Give them one of yours-

For the good Lord knows that no one needs a smile so badly

As he or she who has no more smiles left to give.

~ Author Unknown

Walking the Tightrope

The old-fashioned circus acts, like walking the tightrope, have evolved to elaborate and finely orchestrated Cirque de Soliel performances. Nonetheless, I am still spellbound by someone walking high above the crowd on a tightrope, placing one foot in front of the other ever so carefully. It takes courage, focus and concentration and a desire to stay steadfast on one’s path, knowing that a miniscule mistake will result in disaster.

In everyday life, I equate walking a tightrope to holding on with all our might in times of sadness and stress and when we don’t know if we will survive what is happening around us. In fact, the other day a friend asked how I was getting through these recent months, which have been incredibly stressful given my husband’s health and included a difficult time for one of my daughters. I explained, “I’m walking a tightrope with a safety net of incredible family, friends, and colleagues who are ready to catch me on a moment’s notice.” That is a gift and one that I don’t take for granted.

There are times in life when we feel so alone. You’re never alone. There is always someone who is willing to lend an ear, a helping hand, or words of encouragement to help you hang on for one more day. The key to finding them is opening your heart and allowing the help to come in. Some may feel challenged and want me to know they don’t have anyone; nobody cares. That may be true; however, if the people you are turning to are the ones you can’t rely upon and/or leave you feeling that they don’t care, let them go. There are others who will be there and you need to open your heart so they will find you. Moreover, don’t give up on yourself and hold the hope that this too shall pass.