Varekai

“We who have lost loved ones through sudden accidents find ourselves scouring our memories for portents. Were there any clues, any indicators that something terrible like this might happen? If we can find them, perhaps they inject a measure of meaning into a life thrown into chaos. On some subconscious level did our loved one know? “ ~Martha Whitmore Hickman

Life is Grand, happiness all around, the beauty of the world in my heart, I feel like I’m evolving like a gorgeous butterfly, my destiny in the horizon 

~ Shayla Driver 

The words above my daughter spoke were told to me when we were on a trip of a lifetime together- in Disneyworld…only five months before Shayla died. This vacation would be the last time I saw my daughter alive, as she resided many miles away from me. 

 While in Disneyworld, we went to see “La Nouba” by Cirque Du Soleil. The anticipation was on a bigger scale for Shayla who was a performer, having danced for seven years. While the colours exploded across the bodies of eclectic characters on stage, something pulled at me to watch my daughter’s reaction and absorb the moments of glee, etched into her smiling face. As I write this- the memory of Shayla is clear in my mind- mouth open in awe of the magnificence, playing out right before her big, blue eyes. 

Shayla made sure to purchase several souvenirs to commemorate our special time together; amongst the items was a mask that is connected to Cirque Du Soleil. I recall her excitement of putting the unique mask on and walking out into the streets of Disney, after the show. It wasn’t long before a security guard came over and requested her to remove the mask from her face. Perplexed, she inquired why? He answered firmly due to security policies in Disneyworld, there were no masks of any kind allowed.  While his answer was within reason, my daughter was miffed at his reply and proceeded to ask: “Is there anything stopping me from wearing it on the back of my head?” The Security guard amused answered:

“No ma’am, there is not a policy forbidding you to wear your mask, on the back of your head.”

The backside of Shayla's ingenuity

Within seconds, Shayla whipped off her prized souvenir and gave a smug smile. Attaching the mask to the back of her head, she proudly sauntered off, with me trailing behind her trying to hide the laughter. If you knew my daughter, then this would not come as a surprise, as she often questioned many things that mystified her.  

After her passing, I saw a variety of Cirque Du Soleil’s artistic shows. Each time, there always came a moment where what was playing before me, was not what was reflected in my heart. As my mind brought me back to watching Shayla’s face light up with the true spirit of a performer, there has not been anything to even compare to it. 

This past May, as I drove to work, I saw the advertising for Cirque Du Soleil’s Varekai. I knew I would be getting a ticket for the upcoming show. 

This would be my first time to see Cirque perform, without anyone going with me. After some struggles with being alone, this past February is but a bad dream. While there are times I miss the only family I ever had with Shayla, I have to remind myself of the 21 years, we were blessed to have together. Now, I anticipate the beauty in being able to take my time with things that visually inspire me. On the hikes I go on, there is no pressure to pick up my feet or stress about keeping up. I now see things through the scope of my own pace, with no interruptions in between. 

When these moments are confined to the beats of my own heart, I feel free…no longer a caged bird, I have soared to places I never could have imagined, on my own. 

The night of the performance, I anticipated a visual entertaining night where both my strength of mind would be expanded and my bereavement would linger amongst the audience. I would miss seeing Shayla’s head tilt back in laughter, while the creases amongst her lips, pulled back in the smiles imprinted upon her. At the show, I struck up a conversation with someone who was seeing Cirque Du Soleil for the first time and was unsure what to expect. I looked them in the eye, with a grin upon my face and said, “Your about to be pushed to stimulating levels of brilliance!” 

The show had intrigued me, due to the storyline, as the title means "wherever" in the Romany language of the gypsies—the universal wanderers. The show is an "acrobatic tribute to the nomadic soul". The show begins with the Greek myth of Icarus, picking up where the myth leaves off, re-imagining the story of what happened to Icarus after he flew too close to the sun and fell from the sky. In Varekai, rather than falling into the sea below him, Icarus lands in a lush forest full of exotic creatures.

There is the usual spectacular trapeze, juggling and dancing. The highlight for me was the “Russian Swing.” Acrobatics soar into the air, then onto a net boosted by two Russian Swings. The performers do flips and jump onto the shoulders of one another. 

At the intermission, I decided to go and look at the souvenirs. I was making my way through the crowd when something caught my eye, making me stop in an instant. Through the masses of people, I saw a man chatting with a woman. It was what he had on the back of his head, which caught my attention. As I approached, I had no idea what I would say to the strangers. By the time I was in front of them, I blurted out about Shayla, in a ‘Reader’s digest shortened version.” They were moved by the story of my daughter and smiled when I shared how she had worn her mask on the back of her head in Disneyworld. 

This is the way the man chose to also wear the exact replica of his Cirque Du Soleil mask. I knew I had to get a photograph of the moment and he happily obliged. It brought me some comfort to have shared in a special time, where I could embrace the serendipity of what had transpired. 

I have come to identify with the labyrinth of grief and the many intricate designs of bereavement. Instead of denying the memories I am flooded with, I have learned to separate some of the pain away and see how something unfolding in the present, can be lovingly connected to the past.

By TL Alton

Lift Me Up

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in Rising …every time we fall."
Inspirational Quote by Confucius

Heart shaped pebble meaning healer of Heart-Mind- and Soul

My offering for the candle I lit in Shayla's memory at Holy Rosary Roman Catholic Cathedral, Vancouver, BC

  As a bereaved parent, I have been faced with some difficult situations where people believe I am okay, simply because I am living my life to the fullest. 

It is a complex cycle of misunderstanding that lends itself to the perception that if I put on my make-up, go out into the world, attend an event or merely engage in a routine of shopping, that somehow I am managing my grief. 

A passage I would like to share is from Martha Whitmore Hickman’s book: Healing After Loss-

“What is this myth about being strong? …Of course, if we could choose, we’d like to do our weeping in a place where we won’t cast a pall of gloom over some bright occasions.

 You have enough to contend with in your life right now without the extra burden of worrying about whether other people are going to be uncomfortable from your crying.

You are not a stranger, acting strangely. You are a human being, acting like a human being.” 

The truth is, I can be anywhere, at any given time and feel a wave of sorrow overcome me. I refer to it as ETS or Emotional Triggering Syndrome. It happens when someone reminds you of your loved one, or you catch a scent in the air. It can be as simple as a print on a dress, the colour of a girl’s nail polish or the fabric on a purse. I have had to flee in tears, certain stores, places or even events, in order to deal with the overload of emotions. 

There have been occasions I have left somewhere, got into my vehicle and sobbed heavily into my steering wheel. Five minutes prior to that I might have had a conversation with you and seemed perfectly fine. 

What I have learned internally is that grief is a whirlwind of unpredictability- it can seep slowly into your broken heart or course through your veins with such fury; you end up in a full blown grief outburst. The first time I ever saw a bereaved person be consumed with such anguish, it shook me to the core. Shortly after, I felt envy for that person being able to release such sorrow. 

Just like no two Autumn leaves are alike, no two grief journeys are the same

As someone who has suffered from depression in the past, I was filled with anxiety thinking how I wanted to avoid sinking into a well of darkness again. That said, I have not spent one single day in bed, grieving the loss of my daughter…for fear of not ever wanting to get up again. For me, it’s such a fine line between grieving and having to cope with two illnesses that contribute to the mourning process. I now realize after much research that since the day Shayla died, I have put a stopwatch on my grief journey. Nearing two years later, while others have been dealing with her painful loss, my heartache was held back.

My saving grace has been in the release of a variety of pebbles, gemstones and crystals all over the earth. The cause itself contributes to the spiritual expansion of nurturing me through this tragic upheaval and devastation that happened when my daughter died. By connecting to the elements of my environment, I immerse myself into the void where Shayla may be gone, but is not forgotten.  

 Thank You to Douglas Warren from The Woodshop on Granville Island, for sharing this book!

This past year, I have suffered a great deal of unforeseen anguish in the betrayal of some people I once trusted. It is unfathomable to think that anyone would want to further subject a grieving mother to more turmoil. Yet the time they devoted to causing me more misery is something they will someday have to answer for…especially since they are mother’s themselves.

As I near the two year mark of my babygirl’s passing, Shayla continues to enrich my own spirit through the many lessons she left behind in her journals. I have come to realize that she was the teacher and I her student. In seeking a more peaceful life, my daughter has taught me to make a plan. For it does not matter about the uncertain journey, what is important is to embrace the unknown. Another key lesson is to breathe life into my spirituality through expanding boundaries by decluttering thoughts. To go through each section in my mind and focus on what matters the most- first. The last thing I have gained knowledge of is to replenish the well that often goes dry far too often when we constantly give of ourselves and put our own needs last. 

All of the above may sound simple and well known information, but when you lose a child, everything you have learned seems to dissipate. Like sand in an hour glass, wedged inside, my life has been halted to the numerals on a clock flashing 1:00pm and a date on a calendar, December 12, 2011. It’s my own twisted version of Groundhog Day intertwined with Final Destination and I live it every moment of my existence.

Therefore, in order to process the past 24 months, I need to take a break from posting on my blog. Much like back at the end of February when I took a good deal of time to myself, it is imperative to freely devote my attention on me. This is something that is so effortless for others, yet I strive to achieve such harmony and balance. 

Since Shayla’s death, I have been trying to find the one key that will open the doors to my hidden grief. However, I feel that my daughter has gifted me signs to help me fully absorb that she no longer lives in this world, but her care-free spirit lingers on. I have been truly blessed with a connection that permits me to still have an amazing bond with her and honour the life that she shared her golden heart.

To each of you who have participated in The Heart Pebble Movement -I can say whole-heartily the miraculous difference you have made in my life as a mother who weeps for her only child- is profound. From every photograph sent, video shared and messages I have received, it reminds me of its sole purpose; to open your hearts and pay tribute to my beloved daughter. 

Thank You Kindly! To Melanie at The Crystal Ark

I will continue to receive any pebble releases, whether by snapshot or email and I promise their stories will be told. For now, after this last blog posting, I will place them into a file until I am ready once again to take up the cause. Rest assured, I have been speaking with others about gathering all the stories together and writing them into a book, after I have completed my first novel, Under the Sitka Tree. I encourage people to keep the movement carrying on and share the love of who Shayla Driver is.

As I welcome the new beginnings ahead and the many changes which have occurred, I know the next chapters of my life are about to unfold. In doing so, I have decided to leave the Love I have experienced behind me and grip onto the Faith pulling me towards a whole other set of adventures.

The Ripple effect carries on...

I leave my loyal readers with this last video link reflective of where I feel I am at in my life.

Kate Voegele - Lift Me Up Lyrics

http://youtu.be/gKHOqT1knvY

By T.L. Alton