A Night to Remember

Life takes us to unexpected places. Love brings us home –Unknown 

Plaque to be placed at Granite Memorial Stone of Shayla Rae   Dawn Driver on December 12, 2013- 2 years of her passing

Meeting  Mr. Nicholas Sparks

The balance of our lives is an intricate set of connections in which the stability of existence relies on constancy. When our world is knocked out of equilibrium; like building blocks… they crash down upon us with an overwhelming force. 

Yet all it takes is an ounce of positive energy to restore the steadiness by those who we interact with, even but for a mere moment or space in time. 

Throughout my life, the term loss has come to mean a great deal of things. In being a survivor, it became apparent at an early age that life would never be made easy for me. At eighteen, when I found myself pregnant and unwed, it was a chance to right everything that had been done wrong, to me. My sole purpose, as a mother, was to embrace the opportunities where my own child's dreams could flourish.

In raising Shayla, I taught her to believe that whenever she encountered the wickedness of an often cruel world, she should find strength in her suffering and never let anyone rob her of the dreams she entrusted within her heart. 

One month before she died, my daughter –knowing I was enduring some struggles, called me from University. She acknowledged me as a mother who had sacrificed my own dreams, in order for her to pursue ones of her very own. With admiration for me as her parent, she announced that she would call me- from now on- every single day , no matter how hectic her own life was, even if just to say how much she loved me. This gift was something I will forever cherish, as she kept her word and we shared an entire month of conversation, right up until she passed away. 

In opening myself up to Shayla, she was one of the few people who truly understood what it meant for me to be able to write. Growing up, I introduced my daughter to all types of literature and genres of authors; evoking a sense of excitement over the written word. 

One of the authors, she came to admire was Nicholas Sparks. When The Notebook came to the silver screen, I dragged her countless times to see one of the classics we declared as priceless. After awhile, the movie was ingrained into our souls, yet every instance we spilled our salty tears onto our fluffy popcorn, it felt like it was the first time. 

Designs by Jo

Every author will tell you of someone who enticed them to plant their buttocks in a chair for endless hours and let the fingertips of creativity waltz across the keys. For me, that person is Nicholas Sparks. While breathing life into the characters of my own novel, Under the Sitka Tree, my reward to myself once I had completed the first edits, was to indulge in a Nicholas Sparks book.  The phenomenal manner in which he takes life’s foundation and explodes them into sentences, so visually stunning, it leaves the reader‘s senses enthused with originality. 

Over the twenty-five years I have written, those closest to me know that beyond any pain I have undergone, my outlet for release is to immerse myself into one of his novels.

Now,  as I go through another transitional period in my life- which questions the morals of others- I was able for one extraordinary evening, to leave all my worries behind.

I received via email through Chapters, a once in a life time chance, to come meet Nicholas Sparks, who was promoting his latest novel- The Longest Ride. I knew despite personal issues I was dealing with, I needed to be at Metro Town in Burnaby, BC. 

Soon, I found myself settled in with others who patiently waited hours, even before the 7pm signing. Just like the endless books shelved all along the area we all waited, my shattered dreams and tears of anguish would also be put on hold. I was not there long, when a woman named Brenda, walked in from the rain and temporarily into my life. She spoke of her three children with such love and gave thankfulness for the blessings she had herself. 

Finding Comfort in a new found Friend~ Brenda

A short conversation turned personal as I shared with her, Julie, Andrea and a few other young girls, the story of Shayla. Amongst tears, laughter and compassion, I found a sanctuary for my emotions. 

When I went to take a coffee break, I met another woman- Patti, whose talented daughter- Jo, had created a unique bracelet and necklace in mini forms of Nicholas Sparks, best-selling novels. In a kind-hearted gesture, she gifted me a tiny replica of The Longest Ride for my own personal use. 

Amazing Designer Piece Bracelet by Jo

Hand crafted "Note Book" created by Jo and presented to Nicholas Sparks

Upon returning to the line, I spoke more of Shayla and her fondness of butterflies. Shortly after, I discovered the hardcover book I had been leaning against was entitled “Milk & Honey” and swirls of butterflies were all on the front cover. Brenda also informed me that a count of people has been done and I was number twenty-one; the age of which my daughter was when she passed away. 

By the time Nicholas was set to sign everyone’s edition of The Longest Ride, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I had brought with me a special rock from Shayla’s collection and taped it to a link to my blog: The Heart Pebble Movement. What was most impressive is how Mr. Sparks, took the time to go throughout the whole line of over 200 people and have his photograph taken with each person. Later, when I was interviewed for Breakfast Television News, I was asked what it meant to see Nicholas Sparks, in person. I shared how it was important to remember that besides being a brilliant writer, he is a father, a husband and he showed up to do all of this for his fans. 

Hand-made Designer Necklace By Jo- The Longest Ride

In meeting the man who inspired me to write, I shared with him about the tragic car accident in which Shayla lost her life. I gave him the pebble and the blog link and kindly asked if he could find a spot on his property in North Carolina to place it, I would be most grateful. He gently took my hand and expressed how sorry he was for my loss. Nicholas Sparks also assured me he already knew the perfect spot to release the pebble in my daughter’s memory. 

As I walked away, I felt the essence of who Shayla is, wrap an invisible hug around me and whisper: “Despite your suffering momma, their truly is beauty in this world.” 

I dedicate this blog to those who for one evening, helped to remind me of such splendour and grace!

By T.L. Alton

Ol' Green Chair

“Tea pot is on, the cups are waiting, favourite chair anticipating, No matter what I have to do my friend... there's always time for you”

This is a story about an old green chair I have.

Many years ago I knew a teenager who had battled Cancer. To protect the privacy of the family, I am with withholding their names.  This young individual was such an inspiration as they were helping me with my Cancer Fundraiser. We lived by each other and I would walk over to the parent’s house and plan the event I was hosting, along with the teenager’s help.

Every time I walked into their home, I passed an old green, weathered chair in the basement. One day I inquired about it and I was told it once belonged to his great- grandfather and was left behind, when he passed away. For some reason to me, this green chair had a sentimental value to it. I imagined an old man, getting cozy in his chair, reading the newspaper, or watching the boats on the ocean; possibly carrying immigrants. 

 I asked what they were doing with the chair and they said if I was keen on it that much, then I could have it. Upon seeing the piece of furniture, Shayla laughed and teased me, all in her good nature, about me wanting some old man’s musty green reading chair! Back then I was working for the Government, so I had the money to have it refurbished with fresh foam and cleaned up. Once it was all done, it looked almost like a brand new chair again; yet still retained its roots! I simply adored it; especially that it also had a foot stool to match.

 I moved around alot and that chair came with me everywhere I went. When Paul and I could not take it with us to the coast, due to its size and we had no room, I was saddened that I had to leave it behind. It sat at my former husband’s house for a long time. Then Shayla moved into her then boyfriend’s townhouse and she acquired the Ol’ green chair. One visit to Shayla place revealed the chair to be in the guest Room or as she called it the GOD room.  Her partner was neither religious nor spiritual. Whenever I would give my daughter anything to do with GOD or Jesus, she would place it in that room as he did not want anything spiritual in any other part of his house. This really irked me and one time I made a remark to him saying: “A person should be careful about placing GOD in just One room, because you never know when someday; you will need HIM in your whole house!” Looking back now, I can see how true that was! As for the green chair, I later found out that when Shayla was studying, reading a book or immersed in her Bible, she would go into the room and snuggle into the green chair.

When I finally got the chair back, I was thrilled to once again have it in our new place. In setting up the den, I wanted an area where I could go; an inviting space filled with pictures, my cherished Nicholas Sparks novels and a spot where I can scrap book. In creating a warm and cozy atmosphere, I wanted to include my vast collection of grieving and loss paperbacks, and mix in some of Shayla’s personal effects. Next to the beloved green chair, sits on a shelf, the Bible that belonged to my daughter. Items from my two trips to Hawaii are dispersed throughout the room, while a theme of angels invites me to come and settle in.

Recently, I decided to contact the family I had received the chair and stool from, to share with them how much the set means to me. I was delighted to speak with the mother, whose grandfather owned the chair. After speaking of the loss of my daughter, I inquired about their own child, who was now grown and married. They had a miraculous recovery and beaten Cancer; living their life with much happiness. When I opened up and told her all about the chair’s travels and special meaning to me, she was glad that it had found a final spot in our home. I wanted to know more about her grandfather and this is what she relayed to me: “My Grandfather was of Irish descent, he would sit in that green chair, puffing on his pipe and contemplate life.”  This made me smile and my imagination made me wonder of his thoughts, the image of him maybe sipping a warm bowl of root vegetable soup while eating a chunk of Soda bread. I thanked her for the joy the Ol’ green chair has brought me. Once again I feel the incredible bond between my babygirl and myself; embracing the time each one of us has found solitude in it.

In discovering the beauty of this link from past to present, I have found it isn’t simply about furnishings… it is about the roots that anchor us to each other and nourish our souls, through their construction.  

Deep peace of the running wave to you,

Deep peace of the flowing air to you,

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,

Deep peace of the shining stars to you.

Moon & stars pour their healing light on you.

Deep peace to you. ~ Celtic Blessing 

Celtic Tree (inverted sunset) by Ice Faerie

By T L. Alton