Spring, renewal, reminders...

Sunday morning, the first of this year's calf crop arrived safe and sound and wide eyed to the new life before her. She is the first of 98 to come, so busy weeks lie ahead. She timed it right too. Last week we were mired in the snow and wind and sleet of a late blast of winter, but she stayed where she was until that passed, and a warm sun was available to greet her. Our hope is always that we've timed the calving to coincide with the arrival of the warmer, nicer days of spring so that the babies have a chance to catch their breath after the birthing process without having to also fight the elements of winter. There was a time, for many years in fact, when we were part of the cattle producing sector that deemed January and February to be the best time to calve, based on selling timing and pricing. But eventually, it came to our attention, that that no longer worked for our energy, facilities, enthusiasm or lifestyle, so we bumped it back to April. It was a good choice for us.

The calving season is such a strong reminder of how life goes on, whether we're ready to or not. It's been three weeks to the day since I lost Shane....in most ways three very, long, draining weeks...but another part of me marvels that three weeks have slipped past so quickly. I don't know if I can say it's getting any easier...I think I cry a little less, I force myself to get up and do things that take my focus off the emptiness inside for a while, there are snatches of moments when he doesn't consume every thought in my head, but it's still a hard place to be. Sometimes it's scary how tight and explosive the muscles in my throat and neck and chest feel, like your body is about to tear itself open, in an effort to contain the pain it's carrying. I hope that feeling soon starts to ease...I'm sure those are signs of the stress that eats away at what health you have, and I need to manage that if I'm going to be around to move forward.

I think for us, one of the toughest things with this particular loss is how it's been an insurmountable wave in such a series of losses. You look at the stages of grief that the professionals claim you will go through, and the time lines that might be expected, and there just has never been a chance for us to work through one, before the next one arrives. We barely were coming to terms with the loss of my Dad last March, when we were confronted with the death of Cecil's Mom in November, then as we're starting to feel that loss is manageable, this happens....and this is not something that feels like it's going to be manageable for a long, long time....so please let it be the last for a while. A broken heart can only be left in so many pieces if it is ever going to put a semblance of itself back together....I think mine has reached the point of being almost completely shattered....I'm so uncertain reparation is possible, but know I have to try.

So for now, we carry on. Signs of spring are starting to appear everywhere. The water streams flowing through the middle of the yard, the boards of the deck peaking through the snow, the arrival of the calves....my hope that all the rebirth and regeneration around us will aid us in being reborn into the new life we have as well. A new life that will carry the memory of Shane forward, as the gift that he was, and a life that will see me strong enough to share the lessons that he brought and make his life count for everything that it truly was. We're working at that one long day at a time, but I do believe that each day is just a tiny bit easier than the day before...so with time.

I wanted to share this picture...when people talk about 'fighting like cats and dogs' they'd never met "Lady". Lady has been with us for tow years this month. We decided in 2007 that we needed another dog around the yard, as poor old buster who was about 14 at the time, was struggling with the coyote population coming up and harassing him at night by the house. My Dad researched and decided what we needed was a Great Pyrenees. He found some puppies for sale in the paper, but we didn't think we were at a place where a puppy would have a fair chance...we were just too busy, and too preoccupied. I picked up a Buy and Sell on day to read on the way to a Friends funeral, and there at the top of the pets section, was my girl. '5 year old Great Pyrenees female, free to good home'. I phoned and spoke for her immediately, but the only day we could drive that far to get her was Easter Sunday, so that day Shane, Cecil and I loaded up in The Shanemobile (his wheelchair van), and headed out for the three hour drive to fetch the new family member. When we got to our destination, we found the saddest, most defeated animal I've ever met. She'd been tied to a tree for a year, you could feel every bone down her skull and back, and we didn't even know she had a tail for two weeks, she kept it tucked so tightly down. This was NOT what we were looking for, but we just couldn't leave her there. We decided to take her home, see what happened, and find her a better place if necessary. I still question what it was we were thinking when we loaded this monster of a dog into the back of the van, and attached her leash to the footings that kept Shane's wheelchair secure. It could have been a disaster with an animal that big, and a child that vulnerable...but something about her demeanor never even allowed the possibility to enter our mind.

Two days after arriving at our home, the least/chain came off. She's proven to be the answer to the coyotes, the protector of the family, the play thing for the children, and the tamer of the cats. There isn't a day where she doesn't look at you, and you just know she adores you for the life she's been given, and the home that she has. It's another one of those things, where you put something out there, and what you need comes. I think she's a lot older than the 5 years we were told she was. She's another heartbreak down the road. But for the past two years, and for the foreseeable future....she truly has been a 'man's best friend'....although that man just happens to be a woman.

What would we do without friends...

This last couple of weeks have been so terribly heartbreaking, but at another level, they have also been strangely renewing for the values and beliefs that I hold so dearly. I don't know where I would have been, or would be now for that matter, were it not for the people and relationships in my life. I can't even imagine what this would have been like to walk through without all the calls, visits, notes and emails, that still pop up daily just to say 'I'm thinking of you'. It's been what's pulled me through, and continues to help me get up each morning.

Take this beautiful, beautiful picture that was adjusted and adorned with one of Maya Angelou's quotes, then posted for me. It's these thoughtful little gestures and reminders from the people who's lives we've touch and who have in turn touched ours, that makes every new day possible.
And it's not just the friends that we see on a regular basis that so amaze me...it's the friends that have reached out across time and miles....people who touched my life a million years ago and have connected to say 'I'm still here for you' , and people who only know me through the cyberworld, but who've made the effort to say "I care"...it all matters so very much right now.

I actually waded back into the world of my work life this week, only for two days, in a very closed session...so that I was surrounded and supported by 'my people', but not overwhelmed with what my heart couldn't handle. It was good to get outside of my little box for a couple of days, but very good to come back and crawl back into my cocoon...still it was a start, and I know I need to start somewhere. This new world is just so foreign from the way things were, and to stay in this place of just being, rather than doing, is almost more than my heart can handle right now, so maybe the time has come to try and start to make my way in the world, even if just a little at a time, once more.

It's snowing, and snowing, and snowing again....we're just days away from starting the calving season...with 100 cows ready to explode...but I sure hope they'll wait for a couple more days. It looks much like January again here, which sucks when we're just days away from April! Lots of fear around the potential for flooding this year as well. Luckily we're up in the hills, and don't have to worry about that, but that doesn't spare you from thinking of the others that aren't so safe right now. Hopefully all the work that's been done in the past years provincially to protect from this happening will allow people to stay dry and protected.

For now I'll keep moving along, trying to figure which direction I need to head in any given day, to maneuver myself to where I don't even know I'm going. Lost without a map, but gratefully not alone on my journey....my love and thanks to all of you.

Lynda
http://www.musicwriter.ca/

On the twelth day of.....

Twelve days have passed since we lost Shane...what a strange new world it suddenly is. Over the past days I'm finding that sometimes my friends speak my heart better than I do. A.M emailed me yesterday, she has a son who has many of the same needs that Shane did, and she put it this way.... "For seventeen years your life has revolved around Shane...your thoughts, your energy, your entire being has revolved around his care, his health, his good days, his bad nights....You know every inflection of every coo, and what it means... your ears are tuned to every sigh, every cry, every shriek of joy or pain..your eyes pick up every facial expression and you know what he has communicated, and wonder sometimes what he must be thinking....My heart weeps with you, my friend"...she pegged it so well.
I think it's the silence that is hardest...there was always sounds, although Shane never spoke a word, he always got his point across using one sound or another..his presence spoke such volumes. The silence is deafening...and as I listen, I hear my heart break.
I'm trying to focus on the list of things that I know need to get done, and the other list of things that I always planned to accomplish when I had time...now it seems I have more time than I can handle, but instead of getting things accomplished, I wander from room to room....memories hitting me at every turn....none of this seems real.

It's raining here. They say that in about 24hours the rain is to turn to another round of snow. I wish this winter would end, it seems to have lasted so long. It's such a dirty time of year too. The snow is no longer pure and white, but tired and grey and mottled...kind of reminds me of me right now. We need a dose of spring and renewal. I hope it comes soon.

Tried to play for a while today. Puttered with the song that I was working on just the week before Shane passed. Shane's Godmother read the lyrics as a poem at his funeral, and I know I need to finish the piece. There are still flashes of time when I stand here and wonder what next...what am I to do with myself...everything I've worked towards in the last many years have been geared towards his future, his having a safe, inclusive adult life, his world being made more accepting and tolerant. I know from the response from his passing, I have a responsibility to continue all that we started, and to keep working towards a better tomorrow for all person's with disabilities, and I know I need to get that fire back...right now it just seems so hard. Each morning I arise hoping this will be the day that I'll feel something of myself again...but each evening I retire feeling the same hollow emptiness that has engulfed me since March 10th. At least, with help, the sleep allows me to escape for a few hours, but the escape is usually into the world of my dreams, where Shane is with me, and all is as it should be again...that makes starting the next day just that much harder.

I know it's early, I know this will take time....God knows I've been here before when I lost my first husband in 2001, and when I lost my Dad last year...but this one just seems so much harder, because Shane got me through those other losses. The critical people in my life are trying so hard to do that for me now...but it's just different. I miss my boy sooooo much....please bear with my while I work though it.

Lynda
http://www.musicwriter.ca/

Is there life after Shane.....

Over a week has gone by since Shane's passing. I still feel like I'm trapped in a bad dream that I can't get out of. I'd hoped that by now, hours passing would have started to numb the ache that continues to throb in my very core, but it hasn't. The floral tributes we've received have given me such beauty to sit and reminisce in, if only the ache would stop for a short while.

We held his memorial on Sunday, and it was such a beautiful tribute to such a beautiful person. The people of the EMC church in MacGregor, opened their doors and hearts, and welcomed almost 500 family, friends and classmates who came to pay honor to Shane. What a tribute to the life he had, and the memories he left behind. The words of the service touched each of our hearts, as Shane's story was shared with us by not only the minister, but by his uncle, his teacher and his godmother, and through pictures that each held a thousand words.

The days since have been a very surreal blur of hours passing by without direction. I've spent 17 years of my life orchestrating every move I've made around ensuring that his needs were met first, and now that those needs aren't the focal point of my days...I'm not really sure what is. I started trying to do up some of the many Thank-yous that need to go our for the many kindnesses we've received over the past nine days. There have been so many things to be thankful for, at such a challenging time. We've been so well supported by friends and family with visits, calls, emails, cards, food and flowers. There have been donations made in Shane's honor to the charities we chose...The Children's Rehabilitation centre in Winnipeg, Sunshine Dreams for Kids, and The Variety club. It's overwhelming, and although we're so well supported, it still feels so unreal...

As I'd mentioned a few posts ago, we'd started fundraising for Shane to take a trip to California in the next year. We'd hoped that he'd be able to connect with Bridges School, the school established by Neil Young and his wife Peggy to support children like Shane who are unable to communicate verbally...there were wonderful plans in the making for that young man! We've decided to carry on with the fundraising, and use the money to set up a memorial award to be presented the graduate who best represents what it means to be inclusive and accepting of diversity. I think Shane would be proud to have the money spent that way....it's the people that he's touched that will be travelling the world and opening doors for others, now that he's no longer with us to do that. Maybe this will be a small way that we can help them to be able to do that.

We'd all but finished production of the new cd when all of this happened. Songs that I'd written to support others through their trials, ended up being played at the funeral to support me through my own. In the last weeks before Shane passed, I'd been working on a piece with the hopes that it could be used in some of the advocacy we do together. I've decided that that piece needs to be on the new cd, so until I have a chance to get it recorded and fine-tuned, I've decided to hold off on any further movement forward. There's also the little issue of my heart not being in things right now, and I don't know how long it's going to take for it to function properly again. It's all so strange.

One of the students that spent time with Shane at school started a Facebook page in his honor. I'd never taken time to do the facebook thing, but over the course of the past week, being able to peak into the group and read the thoughts and comments made about my beautiful son, has helped me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The school also dedicated the Cabaret it presented this week to Shane's memory...such wonderful tributes to such a special young man! It's amazing how we draw from others to survive in our time of need...the cards, notes and posts have kept us from sinking below the surface of the pain we're treading in. It makes me hope I've offered that kind of comfort to others in their time of need...I hope I have, and I hope I'll get better at it, having been reminded of the importance of connections.

The writing helps too...being able to pour the pain out onto a written page seems to dull it somehow a little. I'd like to keep writing, but I know that there will be lots of time for that in the days ahead. For someone who never, ever seemed to have enough time...suddenly there seems to be so much of it.

I'd like to share the story of Shane with the world, but for now, I think I'll share the eulogy for Shane Dickson that my brother Micheal Dickson wrote and presented for him instead. He did a great job of capturing the life and the spirit that was Shane, and in the days ahead I'll do better...

It read as follows:

It seems strange how we all get up here and search for the words to express how we’re feeling.
Shane could express his feelings so easily and he was never able to speak a word in his life.
On behalf of the family I’d like to start by saying thank you to everyone for coming out today. I knew that Shane touched a lot of lives and I knew that so many special people touched Shane’s life. I guess this turnout today is a testament to that.
I’d also like to say a special thank to all the people who entered Shane’s life, through various avenues and inevitably became his friends. You see, Shane was very lucky. While his life was not without challenges and he had to endure more than his share...what he never had to tolerate were support workers, therapists, care aides, doctors, teachers, nurses and specialists. You see Shane just had this great group of friends...and some of those friends just happened to have very unique skill sets.
Shane also had a very special group of close friends. Friends like Trem, who’s known Shane since pre-school and someone I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for many years. Trem never saw a kid who couldn’t talk. He saw a friend who...if you asked the question right... gave him your undivided attention and concentrated really hard...could give you all the answers you needed. Oddly...the answer was usually “Ice Cream”....Or Victoria, who, even when she was very young, never saw a kid in a wheelchair. She saw “The smartest boy she knew, because he takes his chair with him everywhere and he never has to worry where he’s going to sit.”
17 years is not a long time...but if you put your mind to it, if you have a passion for living, a collection of the best friends in the world and a family determined to help you experience all that life has to offer...you might be surprised what you can accomplish.
Shane petted a dolphin and saw wild orca, he put his toes in both oceans...and laughed.
He rode on an airboat through the everglades of Florida with his family, on a sailboat through the Strait of Georgia with his Grandpa and on a Zodiac off the coast of Vancouver Island with pods of whales.
He rode horses, toboggans, snowmobiles, ATVs , water slides and roller coasters.
He put up with Mom’s singing, Cecil’s jokes, grandpa’s incessant doting and being force fed potatoes and gravy by grandma...and he just kept smiling.
He was a light in his Grandpa’s life through some very dark days...and after Grandpa passed away he gave the family a shoulder lean on and a hand to hold.
He played games and told stories with his eyes...touched hearts with his smile... lit up rooms with his laugh...and enriched lives with his spirit.
If I may, I’d like to direct this next part to Shane’s classmates. I’m not going to stand here and act like I know you. I’m not going to pretend that I understand what you’re going through. I don’t. We all deal with these things in our own way...but believe me when I say...I’ve walked in your shoes. You’re young. You’re just hitting your stride. Your whole life is ahead of you and you feel like you’re invincible. That’s good....that’s how it should be...that’s the beauty of youth.
When something like this happens, especially when it happens so suddenly, it can be a real shocker. It’s a bit of a wake-up call, a bit of a reality check. I hope that Shane’s passing doesn’t dampen the fire within you...I hope it fuels it. I hope it serves to show you how precious life is, how fragile. I think Shane knew that. I hope that you will take all that was great in Shane, his laugh, his love for life, his sense of adventure, any gifts that he may have given you and any lessons he may have taught you. I hope you will hold onto it, keep it inside you and carry it with you. If you do that, then you can celebrate Shane’s life everyday by making your life as full...and rich...and extraordinary as it can be. Shane would want that.
Always remember...It’s important to mourn someone’s passing...but it’s far more important to celebrate their life. If there’s one thing I could say in consolation...
it’s that....You made a difference. You touched a friend’s life and you made it better...and that’s a pretty special gift...thank you.
In closing I’ll just say that Shane will always be remembered, always be missed and always be loved.
And remember...in no matter what situation you find yourself in life...no matter how unfamiliar, or stressful....and no matter how inappropriate it might seem...the correct response is always...laugh.

Till next time,

Lynda

www.musicwriter.ca

Shane Allan James Dickson...so this is what it feels like when your heart breaks....

Just before 9:30pm on Tuesday, March 10, 2009, I learned what what it feels like for the world as you know it to be ripped from the very heart of you, as life changes for ever and always. Shane was just a little 'off'...we weren't sure what he was struggling with, but decided that being in hospital for observation was the safest bet. After 36 hours of not feeling great, he finally settled. We watched American Idol so he'd be up on the conversation at school when he got back to it, he closed his beautiful blue eyes, I made up the cot they gave me and turned off the light. Twenty minutes later, it occurred to me that I couldn't here his breathing, which had been noticeable with the head cold..I jumped out of bed, turned on the light, and realized the world as I've known it for 17 years was gone.
The past 3 days have been a blur of phone calls, visits, arrangements and head shaking...trying to make sense of the unfathomable. What a nightmare....and try as I might, I just can't wake up from it. I don't know where the tears keep coming from, but they do keep coming...and coming....and coming.....God I miss my boy.....
The funeral is planned for Sunday..and I hope I have all the basis covered. Songs I've written to support other people through the struggles of loss, are suddenly becoming part of the ceremony that will support me through my own...

For me, I wish I had the courage to get up and share what Shane meant to me, but I know I can't. The recessional song is 'Heroes' that was written for and with Shane, and that says so much about how he's got me through so many things, and who he helped me to become....he was my mentor, my teacher, and the very best parts of me.....I owe him so very much for the lessons he taught, and the love and patience he showed and the honor granted to just be his mom. I'm attaching a jpeg with the poem 'Welcome to Holland'...I kept this poem taped to my dresser mirror for over 16 years, and always called Shane my little dutch boy...because he took me to Holland, and the journey was remarkable....I can't believe how lost I am without him her to guide me....and I just hope that today his new legs are taking him to every corner of the universe that his heart desired to see...and his voice is celebrating and sharing all the wisdom his soul has gathered ....Shane....I will miss you forever, and love you for always...Forever and always, my baby you'll be. Love you so much sweetheart...





His Obituary reads as follows:
It is with deepest sorrow that we announce the sudden passing of Shane Allan James Dickson, age 17, of Lavenham, Manitoba on Tuesday, March 10th, with his mother by his side.

Left to mourn his loss, and forever cherish his memory, are his parents Lynda and Cecil Turner, siblings Bill (Robin), Lisa (Adam), Kathy (Tim), John (Corinna), Bianca (Josh) and Anthony. He will be sadly missed by Grandparents Vera Dickson, and Delmer and Shirley Dobbin, and lovingly remembered by many aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and cousins, as well as countless friends and classmates. Shane was predeceased by his father Greg Dobbin (2001), Grandpa Jim Dickson (2008) and Grandma Hazel Turner (2008).

Shane was born January 18, 1992 in Winnipeg. Shane’s physical struggles began early in life, with a diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy, but the struggles and challenges never weakened his resilient spirit or his infectious laugh. While many people spend decades waiting to learn what their purpose in life might turn out to be, Shane’s became clear at a very early age, as he became an ambassador for children with special needs to the greater community. His beautiful eyes and his knowing smile opened many people’s eyes and hearts to the possibilities within a child with such differing needs. In his short 17 years, Shane started a ripple of understanding that will be felt by hundreds of people for years to come, and anyone who knew him will never forget him.

Shane loved people! His greatest joy was in being surrounded by friends and family. He loved school and being in the center of it all both at the Elementary and Collegiate schools of MacGregor, where he was in Grade 11. The MacGregor staff and student body provided Shane with an educational experience that was second to none, and provided the country with a living example of what inclusion in schools really, truly looks like. There wasn’t one day when a hoot of joy didn’t erupt from Shane, when he heard the bus coming for him, because he couldn’t get enough of the time spent with peers.

Physical limitations didn’t hinder his opportunities for travel, swimming, 4-wheeling, snowmobiling, camping, or tobogganing. There were very few things that he missed having the chance to try, and leaves us knowing his seventeen short years were packed with a lifetime full of memories and adventures. He knew what it was to have true, lifelong friendships, and he knew what it meant to be truly loved by all those around you. He was also able to teach us that physical abilities can’t limit a spirit, or a person’s sense of joy, as he spent his life teaching all of us those lessons.

There are so many amazing things happening....in a world where 50 years ago, a child with his needs might have come and gone without so much as a marking on his grave...here we are struggling to find a building that will accommodate the crowd that has embraced him. There's a FaceBook page dedicated to his memory, that grows by the hour, with words of condolences and celebration for the gifts he offered. It's all so overwhelming right now, but in the days to come, I hope to gather the strength to share with the world, who he was, and the lessons he taught us all...but for now, I just need to close my eyes and remember the child that was mine.