Thursday, December 18, 2014

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas ~ Unbreakable







As I write my last post for 2014 on The Heart Pebble Movement Blog, I am in awe of what has taken place over the 12 Days of Christmas- a mother and daughter’s unprecedented version. 

One promise I made to myself was to never indulge in the “What-if’s” of experiences Shayla and I would have shared in December 2011. You cannot grasp hold of the limitless if your foot is cemented in the past. 

I have been exceptionally blessed by the true meaning of the season- giving, yet equally gifted by the beauty of receiving. Along the path of winter to come, I- as a bereaved mother- have been embraced by strangers, shared tears with other parents, found the glitter of HOPE in a butterfly heart necklace and been tenderly looked after by people, I hardly know. 


I can attest to sharing marvellous moments with ‘Angels,’ who have come in every form to a woman… who at times, has felt abandoned. When the Cimmerian shade of grief twists my emotions with such a massive force that blinds me, it is the hand of God reaching from the Heaven’s, to calm the angry ocean waters separating my split heart. 

Something in the Water            * Click on Link By Carrie Underwood


As the Lords breath whispers to me that I am HIS Creation, I do not fear my own existence concluding, because every night my hands folded in prayers…I am assured Life does carry on. These past twelve days have been proof of things whether visible or not- reminders of angels which simply means: “Messengers.” 


I believe they do take human form in order to carry out His will. That everyday miracles are deciphered only by those who experience them. I consider those who have assisted me, whether by helping me with my vehicle, paying for my groceries or offering a complimentary night’s stay in a beautiful hotel, to be awe-inspiring moments of grace. 

When I was fretting all week about having a ride to the Hospital for my surgery, I met a lovely couple in the most unlikely place, who have taken me under their wings and offered me a peace of mind. I received home-made Turkey soup from this ‘angel’ who was already thinking of my recovery!

There are times when you find yourself willing to open your eyes to the heavenly presence and accept that random knock...even if the door is bolted.

Much like nurturing the roots of a tree- taken from its original spot and re-located- I will require great care in re-establishing my own set of roots on an Island, I call home. 

The previous twelve days have all been gifts from my sweet angel, Shayla. I have received Commemoration, Luminosity, Nostalgia, Song, Tenacity, Reawakening, Capriciousness, Sparkle, Insight, Tradition and Reliance.
 
Each time I embarked on a new activity, I was reminded how our lives intersect with others in extraordinary ways! I also pondered on the aspect of receiving one gift that never materialized…or so I thought- the Gift of Love

I am not speaking of the basic love for one another, but rather the unquenchable encounter of meeting someone and seeing your names etched together on a tombstone. Much like J.R.R. Tolkien, whose insatiable passion for the woman he loved-Edith, saw him wait nearly three years to even lay a gaze upon her beautiful soul again. They are buried together and on their marker under their names are LĂșthien and Beren. In Tolkien's Middle-earth legendarium, they were characters he created to honour the love they shared in this world and the sacred realm.  


I believe all writers pour something of themselves into their passion…for me; it is the main inspiration of Christian and Skylar, who live on in the fortitude of my heart. 

When I went to post my last entry, it occurred to me that Shayla wanted me to have the most compelling present, right before my operation. It is the gift that has seen me withstand countless trials and tribulations- the one given to me was “Unbreakable.” 

Time after time, I have withstood storms that most would have been washed away by the pounding surf. I have endured betrayal, scorn, and torment at the very hands of some of those I have loved. I stood before a Police Officer and was handed the blows of death in losing my only child. I have trusted when I should have run and I have given until the life within me drained slowly away…

Yet this not only makes me human, like the rest of us…but also UNBREAKABLE!  With no crystal ball peering into the future, I can be assured of the following: Much like a participant in The Maze Runner, I am mapping out my Destiny, knowing full well that GOD holds my original blueprints.

The song I chose to share,"Unbreakable" is reminiscent of the future love of my life...the man who will guard my heart with his sincerity. He will be patient as I slowly open myself up to the notion of trusting someone again, after all that I have endured. 

Song: Unbreakable   Artist: Jamie Scott    

During this time of honouring the 12 days, I was blessed with the care of others; some remain unnamed as they helped me out of kindness and wanted nothing in return. 

I leave all of you with this brilliant quote, recently sent to me by my dear friend, Mindy Herman. 

"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson 

 I Dedicate this to All of Us who have LIVED! 

Song: I LIVED!  Artist: One Republic    
http://youtu.be/CMStV5KWB_U



I wish everyone the Merriest of Christmas’s and Thank You from my heart to yours, for coming along for the journey!

Blessings, T.L. Alton

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas ~ Reliance



“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

I love all forms of creative expression! As a child, I remember our Grade 6 teacher, taking on the arduous task of reading The Hobbit, by English fantasy Author J. R. R. Tolkien.

It is an exceptional storyline that was followed by The Lord of the Rings. 

 This is the front cover art for the book The Hobbit written by J. R. R. Tolkien. The book cover art copyright is believed to belong to the publisher, George Allen & Unwin, or the cover artist, J. R. R. Tolkien. This is the cover to the 1937 first edition of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. It depicts the dragon Smaug.
* Credit: Wikipedia.org


 
As a child, whose imagination allowed me to escape the real monsters in my world, the writings of both J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis made possible a release from everyday life. The brilliance of dwarves, elves and immortals cast in the images of good and evil spun into a realm of fantasy is what kept me interested in the books. 

Several interesting facts I learned upon research found that in 1982, an asteroid discovered by M. Watt was named 2675 Tolkien after the philologist, university professor, and author. While in the Cadwallader Range of British Columbia, three mountains have been named after Tolkien's characters. These are called Mount Shadowfax, Mount Aragorn and Mount Gandalf. 

As a writer of less grand proportions, I cannot imagine the epic legacy of a book written 77 years ago, playing out across screen in AVX 3D across the world! 

Shayla was intrigued by the legendary stories of Middle -earth and the complex line of intricate characters that evolved over time. We use to go see the movies together… sometimes she would have seen them several times, as both her father who lives in Kelowna, and myself- residing in the Lower mainland at the time, treasured the movies. For her stepbrother Gary’s birthday one year, Shayla bought him the ‘ring’ and presented it to him on a necklace. She was thrilled to have found it as Gary was very fond of The Lord of the Rings

On my eleventh day of Christmas, I chose to honour my daughter’s love for J.R.R. Tolkien and see the end of the trilogy- The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies.  I will assure you there are no major spoilers here with the exception of two references, which resonated within me. The first- there is a very extraordinary engraved pebble that has its rightful place within the storyline. The second is the following that is exchanged between two characters. 


“Why does it hurt so much?”
“Because it was real…”



For me, the core values of trust and loyalty, I hold amongst the highest in regard. Much like the witch breaking Gandalf’s staff…I have been wounded by broken bits…  I need say no more.

This was the last ‘activity’ to take place on my quest of the twelve days of Christmas and I was not disappointed in the time I spent escaping to Middle -earth. 

There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

By T.L. Alton

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

On the Tenth Day of Christmas ~ Tradition







For some the annual decorating of the tree holds treasured customs of celebrating Christmas.  

What Shayla and I revered amongst all of the holiday festivities was the watching of Christmas movies. 



There was the long-established re-watching of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”. I would laugh at the same parts, although seen countless times over; I never grew tired of the dog with the sawed off antlers. 


Shayla loved “Mickey’s Christmas Carol” and we eventually bought it. I recall her as a teenager pulling it out and laughing to her heart’s content. I own “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and for me the nostalgic yet riveting message of hope over despair, resonates within me.
One year, before the holidays began, I heard a song that made me sit on a chair and listen to the following words by the band Newsong.
 (The Christmas Shoes):  

 
It was almost Christmas time
There I stood in another line
Tryin' to buy that last gift or two
Not really in the Christmas mood
Standing right in front of me was
A little boy waiting anxiously
Pacing 'round like little boys do
And in his hands he held a pair of shoes
And his clothes were worn and old
He was dirty from head to toe
And when it came his time to pay
I couldn't believe what I heard him say
Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my mama, please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry, sir, daddy says there's not much time
You see she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes would make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful, if mama meets Jesus tonight
He counted pennies for what seemed like years
Then the cashier said, "Son, there's not enough here"
He searched his pockets frantically
Then he turned and he looked at me
He said, "Mama made Christmas good at our house
Though most years she just did without
Tell me sir, what am I going to do
Somehow I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes"
So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out
And I'll never forget the look on his face when he said
"Mama's gonna look so great"
I knew I'd caught a glimpse of heaven's love
As he thanked me and ran out
I knew that God had sent that little boy
To remind me what Christmas is all about… 

By the end of the song, I was in tears imagining what a sight that would be to experience! If one is interested in knowing the validity of the actual story, turns out it is more of a source of inspiration than actual fact. Regardless, the song did encourage a book to be written by Donna VanLiere, called: “The Christmas Shoes,” and later a CBS movie by the same title.


When my daughter came for the holidays one year, I had bought the movie (secretly, I had already seen it and bawled through most of it). It did not take long before Shayla, tears streaming down her cheeks, asked how could I be so mean to make her watch such a heart-wrenching story? The irony of this was I too had begun to weep, once again! She leaned over and grabbing onto me we pushed through the DVD. Later, I asked if she wanted to keep it and she darted me a glare as if to say, “Are you kidding me?” 

From then on, where ever our lives took us, the minute the Christmas season began, the radio played the song repeatedly. One day, Shayla called me from her cell, clearly upset. She explained that her day at the mall had been going rather fabulous, when suddenly the Christmas Shoes song had come on and now she feared scaring all the little children who had come to see Santa. Her mascara was smeared down her face from bursting into tears. She muttered how that darn song had ‘ruined’ her shopping experience! I could not hold back my giggles, knowing how deeply affected Shayla had been by the movie and soundtrack.
The year she passed, I had bought “The National Tree.” It is a movie about a glorious Sitka spruce tree that is uprooted in order to become the National treasure set upon the grounds of the White House in Washington, D.C. 



After losing her, I packed it away…still unopened into a box that read: “Store Away- Forever.” This December when embarking on the 12 days of Christmas, I soon found myself realizing that I did not have the heart to shut Christmas out of my life for good. Shayla would want none of that! I found the DVD and unwrapping it, let out a deep sigh. “Wish you were here…” I whispered to one of the many photographs that grace my home. 

I am a fan favourite of Hallmark movies and this one was a captivating tale of the bonds between a parent and a child. It focussed on the struggles, hardships and disappointments life can bring your way. Yet, it also had a message of inspiration, hope and love…all trademarks of the Hallmark franchise.  What I was most fond of was the beloved Sitka is the tree I am writing about in my own novel. 

Afterwards, I couldn’t help but be thankful for those fun, poignant and marvellous times, where Shayla and I were infused by the enthralling stories reflective of Christmas. Whatever manner the spirit of the season has been expressed, it honours the traditions we have and carry on…despite our grief. 



By T.L. Alton