May 10, 2009 was a very different kind of Mother's day...the kind every mother would dread, the kind that leaves your heart in so many tiny pieces, that the chances seem slim that it will ever go back together properly...it was the kind of Mother's day that I had. Ironically, May 10 was the same date as my very first Mother's day...1992, the day my beautiful baby boy was christened, before the challenges started, before the doctors, and the therapists and the 'special' equipment and needs. When all there was was my beautiful 4 month old son and all the dreams that he held. I look back at the pictures now, and would never in a million years have believed the journey we took together, or that it had ended so soon.
In a round about way, I did spend this Mother's Day with my boy, not as I'd have wished under any different circumstances, but in a way that helped me to gain some closure. It seemed appropriate that this be the day that we spread his ashes...until now, he's sat patiently in a corner of my office, waiting for Mom to be ready....that was very much the story of his life I'm sure...but he was wonderful with the gift of patience he offered all of us as we bumbled along the uncharted road we travelled together. I'd planned it to be a very private event, with just Cecil, and I and the urn...but Shane's adored 'sister' Bianca heard my plans and wondered what time to be there, then my Mom heard my plans and wanted to be part of it all, then it turned out our grandson Ryan was with us for the weekend..and he'd spent so many of the last years weekends with Shane, this would be just one more. So Sunday afternoon we headed up to the edge of the land we all call the 'escarpment'...a place where hours and hours have been spent pondering the questions of the heart...the place where Greg rests watching over the land he so loved...the place where I go when I need time to think, and to remember, and sometimes to cry. The place where the legend of Winston Merry lives....the most beautiful place in my world....
The picture above was one taken at exactly that place, in happier times when both Dad and Shane (and of course Shane's best friend Trem) were there to breathe in the soft scents of nature, and embrace the beauty of our valley...Sunday Dad and Shane were together once more. I didn't have the heart of the ability to write something to send my boy off into forever, but found the beautiful words of the funeral poem
"Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep"
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there: I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints off snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's rain
Do not stand by my grave and mourn
I am the dew-flecked grass at dawn
Where tranquil oceans meet the land
I am the footprints in the sand
To guide you through the weary day
I am still here, I'll always stay
When you wake up to the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cryI am not there: I did not die
It seemed to represent well what was in our hearts, as we released Shane to the wind....
When we finished up at the escarpment, lovingly refered to as "Winstons' Peak", we all headed over to the campground that I write of so often. There have been so many quiet Sundays over the past two years, where we bundled up and headed over to build a fire, roast a hotdog, and just listen to the river as it winds it way past our land to points unknown. We'd always take Shane's 3 wheeler, or a lounge chair for him to relax in, until we realized he was happiest just laid out on an old piece of foam beside the thousand year old camper we call our 'humble abode' down there. He's a part of every memory we've created there, and is always there with us now when we wander down..so it seemed appropriate that we make him a part of the place forever after. A memory we all shared was that everytime we ventured down there with the kids, Shane would lay out on his resting place and watch as all the able bodies headed up the humungous hill that encirles our little campground...as we talked about that, Bianca decided that it was finally Shane's turn to climb to the top of that hill he'd watched so intently all the times before, then she and Ryan and Josh grabbed the last few ashes and raced to the top of the hill, hooping and hollering as always, Shane's final ashes nestled in their arms to be released to fly free from the top of that beautiful hill.....how perfect that he finally got to be part of the climb....
"our wanky little campground....home of the next Manitoba Folk Festival?"
The day ended with a wonderful dinner prepared for me by Bianca and Josh.....it was a great end to a very difficult day...but it answered some questions I'd been struggling with in anticipation of the ...I think the question that's haunted me about Mother's day, since Shane's passing....was now my boy is gone, after 17 years....am I still a 'Mom'?....and the question I've struggled with since March 10...If I'm not 'Shane's Mom'....who am I?.... one of my very early blogs when I started the website stated 'you never know where your kids are gonna come from', I was reminded on Sunday once again...we don't always give birth to our 'kids'. And yes, I'm still a "mom"....the structure of life has changed, but I'm still Shane's mom....he's so deep in my heart that I always will be no matter what....and I'm still Bianca's mom, through the world we've created together...so as hard as Mother's Day was...I know that was likely the worst one, and I got through it with the love and support of my family and friends...and I'm still here today putting one foot in front of the other....so another first is under my belt
Till next time...take care,
Lynda
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