A Day of Reckoning- Water

"Goodbye's (The Saddest Word)" by Celine Dion

http://youtu.be/OWHhx_svpBg

Six months has passed since I swallowed the emptiness of my first Mother’s Day in 22 years without my beautiful daughter. It took 9 months of carrying her in my womb, one morning in excruciating labour, and 21 years of joy embracing the love of my only child. Then…it took only 3 ½ minutes on a treacherous road to undo all of my dreams of Shayla’s future and set me spiralling into a world of profound loss.

I felt like a stray, left out in the cold, with no sense of refuge…exposed to a society, I was thrust further into the role of a bereaved mother. The sheer thought of being at home alone on Mother's Day was not an excuse; rather I could not stomach the notion of looking at my telephone, knowing Shayla would never be calling again. Once on-line, I looked for a place of stillness, bounded with Mother Nature. I found it in the area of Maple Ridge, B.C. The name was River and Rose Bed & Breakfast. When my partner arrived home, I announced to him that I would be going away for a night. No more words were needed as he could see the pain etched on a mother’s face.

Arriving at the B & B, I was greeted by Myra Ireland, who was my host. She showed me into the private suite that boasts a charming upstairs loft. She gave me a tour and once I saw the Jacuzzi tub for two, I knew where I was to soak my grief, later on. A private balcony welcomes you outside and overlooks the churning river and lovely garden landscape. I shared about the death of my daughter; eager for another mother to offer some comfort. Looking back, I know I spoke for a long time as I worked through my mourning; it was kind of Myra to take the time to listen.

I unpacked my things, almost methodically…with no sense or real purpose. Wrapping myself up with a sweater, I grabbed the pebbles of Shayla’s that I had brought. As it was nearing dusk, I reached for the flashlight and decided to take a stroll in the magnificent, outdoors brimming with lush trees and vibrant wild flowers. As I neared Alouette River, with the intense roaring of the waters, I braced myself for what I was about to do. I found a bench and settled in to the wood, creaking with my brittle, wearied frame. I looked at the time on my cell phone- 9:00 pm. After a few minutes, I took the pebbles and gently placed them on a mossy rock. Snapping a few pictures, I let the crisp air fill my lungs and I exhaled. Sitting back once again, I stared at the wild river gushing by my feet. I glanced at the time-9:15pm. This ritual was something I had to do on this Mother’s day. I was facing the reality of what 45 minutes feels like to someone in the water. This was the length of time that Shayla was in McKinley Landing Reservoir on December 12, 2011. I cannot explain it to any of you who maybe reading this; for no one can fathom such a moment of reckoning. I had to do this in order to reclaim my babygirl from those waters and start the long process of replacing the tragedy of that fateful day with the 21 years of memories I had built up with her.

One of my reasons for coming to this particular B & B was the chance to sit at the river and make peace with the frigid waters. I gazed at the flow of the river and as it grew darker, watched the red lights from a neighbouring house, flicker like a fire dancing atop the torrents. I sat in silence, with only my unimaginable thoughts racing through my mind. By 9:35 pm it was pitch black. I took my flashlight and shined it back and forth onto the river. Then I turned it on and off…the click-click sound, reminding me that without its light, I was in the midst of darkness. The means of access to the flowing rapids was to find a quantity of solace; to no longer loathe any source of water and blame it for my daughter’s death. It hardly seemed fair as Shayla, growing up, cherished the ocean, lakes and swimming pools; indulging in anywhere that saw her connect with the Pisces sign she was.

At 9:45 pm, I tossed the two pebbles from my daughter’s revered collection and with it freedom from the strife I had placed upon myself. I should have never been angry with the reservoir, rather those who were responsible for placing it next to a dangerous, winding road. It is a well-known fact that condensation rises up from the water and settles onto pockets of gravel on the sides of McKinley Landing Road, creating black-ice. There have been half- dozen accidents in the past several years that also saw people careen into the reservoir. No one died prior to Shayla and now, only after her life was sacrificed, is change FINALLY being done!

As I lingered on the bench, I wished for those responsible, to be sitting there with me as my body was wracked with sorrow. I wanted each of them to know how 45 minutes can feel like an eternity and how the sentence of loss was handed to me on that horrible day.

In the end, I chose to ‘forgive the waters and a part of myself’ as I live with survivor’s guilt at not being able to save my babygirl.

After sharing with Al and Myra Ireland about The Heart Pebble Movement, I was sent photos of them placing their own for Shayla at Cape Scott. The cause, much like Shayla’s legacy, carries on and on…

I am including a link to River and Rose B & B, as the owners have been kind to me in many ways, I am deeply grateful for. I highly recommend a weekend stay to indulge yourself in nature, and be pampered with extravagance. Another of the highlights is the scrumptious homemade breakfast that is served in your suite. My Mother’s Day saw a sliver of healing on what should have been my 22^nd celebration of the bond I will always share with my daughter, Shayla.

http://www.riverandrose.ca/

By T L. Alton