Friday, October 6, 2000 2:45pm
It felt like moving to me and going on a camping trip to Tim. Packing the car and truck up with a bed, table, lamps, a computer, the aircleaner, sheets and towels, paper towels and toilet paper. We brought a VCR and TV, Courtney's CD player, video movies and music CD's.
Now our little house in Sequim is beginning to feel a little more like home. This is the first time since I've been to the house here since before Courtney died, and the last time I took the ferry over was when we were bringing Courtney to bury her.
On the way up, I listened to songs we both enjoyed, including Christmas songs. I thought it was so sad that she had died during her favorite season; autumn, and the holidays of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I wished she could have celebrated one more season. This year we were also planning on celebrating the Celtic New Year of Samhain.
The weather is beautiful here; sunny and the colors of the leaves are changing to beautiful fall colors, especially driving through Port Gamble.
I'm so glad I have pictures of those trips and stops we made; here in Diamond Point, in Port Gamble, at Fort Worden in Port Townsend, and in Port Angeles. We did cram a lot of memories in a very short time. I'm so grateful that Grandma instilled the interest of photography in me. All those pictures are now so important. As I make each album and each time I look at them again, I'll have the joy of so many memories.
For now, we will spend three days here. I'm not online up here, but I do have a computer to do my journal, work on Courtney's book, and clean and save files. I brought books and needlework, and also a drawing pad and colored pencils and crayons. I'm not sure what exactly I'll do with those, but they seemed like a good idea at the time.
Tonight we will rest, have Gail's macaroni and cheese for dinner, and watch movies.
Tomorrow we will go into town, and look for a chair, and some other things, visit Courtney's grave, and have dinner at the Three Crabs in Dungeness.
Sunday we will return home.
I bought pictures of the kids and candles, and the special candle and stones and crystals for my Prayer of Offering. Maybe later this afternoon, we'll go down to the beach and pick up some driftwood, agates, and shells.
I have a lot I could be during, but not much motivation or energy to do any of it. I wonder when that will return?
6pm
It seems later than 6 o'clock. Tim took a nap this afternoon. I started a thank you letter to the Beacon, and a letter of love to Courtney. One of my grief books suggested that was a good way to help put some closure, to say the things unsaid, deal with the regrets, and, in a way, a gratitude journal.
Then I put on one of the old Johnny Carson videos. I found a need to laugh some. Tim got up. I warmed up the macaroni and cheese casserole that Gail made for us. We ate a very modest dinner, then put my bed together and made it up with the sheets and blankets.
Afterwards, we went for our first walk in our "new neighborhood". Although we won't be living here on a full-time basis for a while, I need to start thinking of it this "home".
It's like our lives have dramatically changed, so quickly, and without our permission. We knew it would change, but never in this manner. One child going off to college, one child dying, and now we are as we were 20 years ago, when we were just newlyweds. Full of hopes and dreams, but never dreaming that our lives would be altered like this.
It's a new chapter, one I had expected sooner or later, but never under these circumstances.
We walked hand in hand down the road that before we had only driven. We were able to see the view of Sequim Bay, the Dungeness Spit, the San Juan Islands, and Canada. We could hear the call of the seagulls.
It was quiet and peaceful and seemingly solitary.
On the way back to the house, an animal bounded out of the brush. At first I thought it was a dog, only to realize it was a deer. So close we could almost reach out and touch it. Suddenly, two more appeared and headed for our backyard.
It was like they remembered Tim, and the day we were here when Chris, Courtney and Tim were picking apples off of the trees and rolling them to the deer. We called it "Bowling for Deer".
The three deer, what looked like a mama and two babies, waited patiently for Tim to pick apples and roll them over. Perhaps they think of Tim as the "Apple Man".
8:45pm
We watched the Star Trek movie "Wrath of Khan". Watching it, I felt like I was in another dimension. In the past and in the future at the same time. The present didn't exist. I remember the Star Trek series of when I was in high school, 10th grade, age 16. It was like my dream last night. I again, I was in high school, age 16, sitting around with friends. Suddenly I started to cry. "Why are you crying?", my friends asked me. "My daughter just died," I responded. "You don't have a daughter," they said. "I will," I said, "and she will die when she is the age I am now."
I don't know what it meant. Courtney was always asking me what her dreams meant. She kept a dream journal, trying to find a hidden meaning, something that would tell her what her life was all about. She took her dreams very seriously. I tried to tell her that sometimes dreams were not literal, but more symbolic. She wanted to know symbolic of what. I couldn't always answer that.
So, am I in the past, my children and marriage non-existent, nothing more than a dream, or a fantasy. Am I in the future? My children are gone, my marriage and life on a new plane, a new chapter, a new life…. Perhaps a new dimension.
Tim was not in my past, but hopefully he will be in my future. My present now holds a reality I don't want to face. Although Tim and Chris are still part of my present, part of our equation is missing. Without that fourth quarter, our lives, our family, feel very unbalanced, like a table with only three legs. Without that fourth leg, it is in danger of toppling over. How do we rebuild the fourth leg?
Saturday, October 7, 2000 noon
Last night I did my nightly candle ritual for Courtney, read outloud the prayer and also the resolutions for bereaved parents. My offering last night was three stones; a clear quartz, a turquoise, and an amethyst. I lit the candle, said the prayers and offerings, and then meditated on the candle flame.
Although I have felt Courtney's spirit and presence, I haven't heard her voice or been able to touch and hug her. I miss those things so much. I was beginning to forget what her voice sounded like.
As I meditated, I concentrated on the flame, using an object that was so important to her… candles. I see the candles as Courtney, they light up the world as she did. I concentrated on the flame, trying to become part of the light, which radiated in a bright yellow orb around it. I called to Courtney to come to me. I need to see you, honey, I need to touch you, I need to hear your voice.
I finished the spell, and blew out the candle and watched the smoke rise up to heaven.
While I was sleeping, she did come to me. It was like a dream, but more than a dream. It felt like a middle-world, some place between heaven and earth.
I was sitting at a table writing, when suddenly I heard Courtney's voice.
"Mom"…..
I looked up and saw her sitting next to me. "Oh, honey, you're here!" I grabbed her and hugged her. I put my hands on both sides of her face, and kissed her nose, her eyelids, and her forehead, just like I used to. I hugged again, and she hugged me back.
"I can't stay long, Mom, but I wanted to give you my Christmas list." When I told this to Tim, he kind of snickered. That was so much like Courtney… giving us her Christmas list early in the season and then revising it practically weekly.
Her wish list was a list of music groups that she wanted the CD's of. They, of course, were listed alphabetically, again, so "Courtney". She pointed out the ones she wanted the most.
"I have to go now, Mom. I love you."
I woke up this morning, remember the feel of her face, and the sound of her voice. But I couldn't remember what was on the list of CD's that she wanted.
Then it suddenly came to me, what was number one on her list; "Destiny's Child". She had been after me for weeks to listen to their music.
"You'll really like them, Mom"
I heard them for the first time when we watched the MTV Music Awards on TV. She was right, I did like them.
And then I understood. Courtney is "Destiny's Child" and that was what she was trying to tell me with her Christmas list. This is her destiny, her short life on earth, her death at an early age, and to finish her mission in heaven. I've "known" this from the beginning… from the day she was born, from the day she died, from the day we buried her in the Goddess' Earth. But I am just now beginning to understand. Each message from her, is like a clue to a gigantic puzzle, that we must collect and put together.
So this Christmas, in the condo at the ocean on the Oregon coast, under a little Christmas tree with angel ornaments, will be a little brightly-wrapped Christmas gift of the CD, "Destiny's Child".
1:15pm
In the October issue of "Real Simple" there is an article in the LifeCoach section called "Keeping Your Center". I found this article interesting, since I feel so out of balance, and balance has always been important to me.
These are exerpts that I've taken from the article that I think apply to me dealing with the grief process.
"Keeping your center' means staying;
grounded but flexible
calm by alert
read and able to move in any direction, for any reason, at any moment.
It's what allows skilled fighters to beat seemingly unbeatable adversaries, or
Confront overwhelming circumstances without being overwhelmed.
Staying centered is absolutely necessary to remain safe in dangerous territory.
[Life] is full of forces that can level anyone at any moment ---
emotionally
financially
spiritually
logistically
or in infinite other ways.
The symptoms of losing [your] center: confusion, distress, manic effort, exhaustion.
Basic guidelines:
1. Tell Yourself The Truth
Telling the truth [honesty] is the psychological equivalent of keeping feet on the ground.
[Not being honest with yourself] makes it easy to lose touch with reality. Easy to find some form of mood altering [drugs, drinking, etc.] to take away the inevitable pain. Easy to destroy yourself, or allow yourself to be destroyed.
[The] earliest, deepest untruths --- the ones that first know [you] off center --- [are] the "white lies" [we] tell ourselves: "Oh no, I'm not lonely (angry, scared, sad)." "Of course, there's nothing wrong with me (my family, my career, my finances…. My grief).
Though you make now at some level that such claims aren't true, you teach yourself to believe them.
This renders you unable to address your real problems, leaving you off center and vulnerable.
The good news is that simply telling the truth is am amazingly powerful, always-available way to find your center again.
Whenever you notice that you don't feel centered, you can get your balance back just by truthfully answering two questions:
1) What's really happening?
2) What am I really feeling?
When you tell yourself the true answers to these questions, you'll experience a sense of coming back to your center, both psychologically and physically.
[When you deny the truth to yourself] your body responds by producing reactions that range from dryness of the mouth to increased blood pressure to red, blotchy skin [to chest pains and illness].
No matter how uncomfortable a truth may be, it always brings this increased strength and relaxation with it.
Even terrible truths usher in a sense of clarity and relief. You don't have to blurt insults or fix everything in your life to regain this feeling.
You only have to state the realities of your situation and your feelings in your own mind, clearly, bluntly, and precisely.
Now you know what you're dealing with.
2. Meet Your Basic Needs
No matter how honest your are, you can't maintain your center unless you basic needs are met.
If telling the truth to yourself continuously brings up a yearning in your body or soul, stop thinking in terms of "should". Instead, center yourself by meeting your need in a healthy, nonjudgmental way.
Sometimes this is as simple as resting when you're tired, putting on a soft, warm sweater when you're cold, or letting yourself cry when you're grieving.
At other times, you may need something you believe you "can't" have.
3. Know How To Yield, As Well As How To Push Forward
About 25 centuries ago, a Chinese philosopher wrote that when two great forces collide, the victory will go to the one that knows how to yield.
If a huge attacker runs at you full tilt, simply step aside and let your enemy topple under his own momentum. In certain situations, pushing back isn't nearly as powerful as yielding.
4. Expect To Fall Down, Know How To Get Back Up
The most centered people on earth are the ones who have lost their center the most often.
A master meditator isn't someone whose brains was blank from the get-go, but someone who has stilled her chattering mind a hundred thousand times.
Survivors of great loss and trauma may radiate a deeply grounded peace, not because they've never lost their center, but because they've been knocked into whole different galaxies, only to realize they could still find their way back to themselves.
Embracing the truth, compassionately meeting your own needs, and learning to yield are tools you can use to center yourself over and over again…..
Losing your center simply becomes an opportunity to find it again. And every time you'll bring a bit more wisdom back with you." Martha Beck
10:40pm
Tim and I showered to get ready for our afternoon and evening in town. I had a hard time facing that shower, since the shower here is a bathtub/shower combination. It brought back the memories of finding Courtney face down in a water-filled tub. Tim had to stay in the bathroom with me while I showered. It was like those first few days at home when neither of us could shower alone, without other one in the same room with us. Our shower at home is a stand-alone shower, but it still took a few days to get past the horror of where Courtney died.
I still also have a hard time saying that….. "Courtney died". I said over and over again, to family, to friends, in my journal. It still doesn't seem real. Sometimes I will be distracted by something else for awhile, and then it will all come flooding back to me. Courtney died. Courtney died?? How can that possibly be?
We went into town, and found a second-hand recliner to buy… it's so hard for me to get up and down off of the floor. Our home away from home is becoming more "home-like".
We then we stopped to buy flowers to take to Courtney's grave, found little purple ones, just loose cut flowers. Then drove to the cemetery. That last time I had been there was at the burial with all the family. It looked different, and Tim had to guide to Courtney's grave. Many of the flowers were still there, lying down. So we stood them back up, and laid down our bouquet of flowers. We told her we loved her, we missed her, we cried a little. Then we walked around the cemetery, maybe to honor the others laid to rest there too. There was a young couple just leaving; we found a fairly new grave of a baby, a two-month old baby boy. Perhaps this was their child. My heart went out to them.
We went back to Courtney's grave, and asked her help to guide us for the future. We still have so many questions, she now has the answers. We look to her now as our guardian angel, just as we have Tim's mom, my grandma, Roger. We know she has guided and influenced since her death, and we know she will continue to do so. But my God, how we miss her. Tim told her he wished he could hug her, but he would hug me instead.
I was okay, until we walked away from her grave, hand-in-hand, when tears started rolling down my cheeks and I sobbed. I hated leaving her behind. I felt that way after the burial. How could I leave my baby there alone in the cold ground?
We sat in the truck for a minute, at least grateful that she had the perfect place for her earthly body to spend eternity, and we know that one day we will join her, body and soul, on earth and in heaven. Until then, our hearts must go on.
In the "Resolutions for Bereaved Parents" one part says "I will try to be happy about something for some part of every day…" We had promised ourselves that we would go out for dinner and this would be a happy and enjoyable meal.
We had selected "The Three Crabs", in Dungeness, not far from the cemetery. It's right on the water, and has a view of the spit and the Dungeness Lighthouse. It looks like a small place, but it actually much larger than it looks. We had been told that the food was fantastic, although expensive.
We were seating right next to the window with a view of the water. The waitress brought our menus, and then suddenly, I said to Tim, "Do you hear what song is playing right now?" No, he said, what?
"It's the instrumental version of "My Heart Will Gone On" from the movie, "Titanic". This is the song that was playing when Tim, Dan, and Bob stopped at the train station deli for coffee, when they were looking for a cemetery to lay Courtney to rest. The lady at the deli said they never play anything but train-themed music, but that morning something made her put on the Titanic CD. Courtney and I loved that movie, it's still one of my all time favorites. We saw it twice at the theater and watched it countless times after buying the movie video.
Tim took that as a message from Courtney, that they literally were on the "right track". Shortly afterward, they stumbled on to the Dungeness Cemetery, with Tim feeling that Courtney was guiding them every step of the way. I have to remember to ask Bob to type up the remarkable story of that odyssey since he tells it so well. The same song was played at the burial as we released the balloons to heaven.
So, those memories came rushing back to Tim when he heard that song at the restaurant tonight. He cried, remembering all that, but again, one of our new resolutions to our healing of grief says, "I will cry whenever and wherever I feel like crying, and I will not hold back my tears….."
We are learning, slowly. One day at a time, one step at a time.
We ordered dinner. They had one of my favorites, Sole Almondine, and I also ordered deep fried prawns. Tim ordered "Taste of Dungeness" which the menu said was "clams, crab, prawns, cod, scallops, and mussels steamed in beer and garlic butter." It arrived in a black cast-iron cauldron, and the waitress tied a paper bib around his neck. How I wished I had brought my camera! The pot was full of freshly-caught seafood, the clams and mussels still in the shells, whole crab legs. It was a delight just to watch his enjoyment of his dinner. We brought one of the pink mussel shells home to add to Courtney's altar.
We had been told that the food here was wonderful, but that was an understatement. It was one of the best meals we've ever had, and we didn't really think it was overly expensive. We shared a piece of chocolate toffee pie over coffee and tea. We have decided that this was our new special restaurant, one that we will return to over and over again.
It was a nice and leisurely dinner, and we lived up to our promise of a joyful moment. A creation of some new memories. These will never replace our precious memories of Courtney and her life with us. But as the song that seems trying to keep reminding us, our hearts, and our lives, must go on.
We left the restaurant just as it was getting dark, looked up at the sky and saw the first twinkling star. "Hi, Courtney, you are our star. We love you. God bless…."
We got in the truck and drove back to Diamond Point. After we got back "home" and Tim had lugged my chair into the house, we stood outside for a moment to look up at the star-filled night sky. My goodness, what an awesome sight! The stars are so much more visible here than they are in Mukilteo. We watched for a minute, Tim pointed out Cassiopeia and some other constellations. This was something that he and Courtney had shared. Last summer, she and I went out in August to watch the Perseid Meteor Showers, and she then had pointed out some of her favorite constellations. It's comforting to think she is now one of those stars, as well as an angel. We picked a good place for a new home. Looking at the stars in the sky, they looked like diamond points against a black velvet backdrop, black velvet like the dress that Courtney loved so much.
After looking at the stars, we lit the candles and watched another "Star Trek" movie, "The Voyage Home" which is about bringing humpback whales from the past to the future.
Lately, so much of what we do has a strange connection and common theme…..
I'm listening to a song by Madonna, called "I'll Remember", some of the lyrics say;
"I'll remember the love that you gave me now that I'm standing on my own, I'll remember the way you changed me… I'll remember…."
"I'll remember happiness….."
And one of my favorites from Madonna;
"This used to be my playground, this used my childhood dream….my pride and joy…"
"Why did it have to end?"
"Why do they always say, don't look back… Life is short"
"Don't hold on to the past, well that's too much to ask…."
"Say goodbye to yesterday, well those are words I'll never say…"
"I can see your face in our secret place… even though it's just a memory…"
"Wishing you were here with me…."
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hopeful
thoughtful
loved
peaceful
drained
surprised
