morning on the dock

One of the most magical things about Squam Arts Workshops is gathering on the dock after a day of creating.  The dock provides a safe haven to share your stories from the day and do a bit of show and tell on what you created.  It is a place where hearts open up, light shines through, and you are seen for exactly who you are.  It is a place of love and expansion and one of the best places to gather.  

Since it is not possible to gather on the dock every single day Elizabeth Duvivier {founder of Squam} has found a way to bring these conversations and space to wherever it is you are in this moment.  I am grateful to have had the opportunity to chat with Elizabeth for her weekly podcast Morning on the Dock.  We chat about he Love Notes Postcard Project, writing, running, and navigating the grief after losing my mom last year.  

I invite you to grab a cup of tea  and settle in for a little bit of heart opening conversation.  

feeling all the feelings

It has been a year since my mom passed and all of the emotions and feelings that have run through me since then have been of deep sadness for losing her.  My heart heavy.  My mind in complete disbelief.  There are moments when it still doesn't feel real.  

And then today as I sat down at my desk a new feeling bubbled up.  Above my computer are photos of her and in each of those photos she is filled with so much life, love, and happiness.  I can see it in the way she holds her grandson, the bright smile on her face as she sits with her sister-in-law and daughter-in-law, and how happy she is to be surrounded by her family.  

Seeing her so alive made me feel angry that she had passed.  She was taken to soon, a few days shy of her 60th birthday.  We had a surprise party planned for her and then she got sick.  It all happened so quickly.  It wasn't supposed to be like this.  She was supposed to get old and cranky and drive me crazy.  

Even though it is inevitable I never once thought about a time when my mom wouldn't be here.  Her spirit so young and alive.  Her heart so open.  It doesn't feel fair that she was taken.  She still had so much love to give, especially to her grand kids who she absolutely adored.

Inside me the anger swirls.  I want to know why but I also know that is an impossible question to answer.  We never know why one thing happens over another.  All we can do is learn how to live within the confines of the new "normal".   

It doesn't seem fair.  It doesn't seem right.  It breaks my heart into a million pieces.  Through the anger I try to collect the pieces of my heart and remember the moments, the laughter, the jokes, the time spent together.  

I think I am going to be here forever, but truth is I do not know when it is my time to leave.  It is something I have absolutely no control over.  I plan for the future.  I run from one thing to the next.  I hurry to get it all done.  But through the chaos I know that I  must slow down and savor the moments.  

I need to  take in the beauty that is around me and appreciate the love that I am shown.  For these are the tiny moments that create my life.  There will be a mixture of emotions each and every day for this is all part of being alive.  I need to recognize and feel these emotions but I also need to feel the moment I am in.  

I will stand holding the anger but also holding love.  Without so much love there wouldn't be anger for what was lost.  And one thing is for certain, I am so grateful for the moments I had.  

there is something about mothers

Today I would also like to share with you the words that I spoke at my mom's service. 

As mother and daughters tend to do my mom and I did not always have the best relationship.  But as I got older and out of adolescence our relationship blossomed into a beautiful friendship. 

My mom taught me so much and I am love seeing her in so many of the things I do.  It reminds me that she is always with me. 

Here are the words I spoke at her service:  there is something about mother's

dear mom

dear mom,

A year ago yesterday you left this world for another.  I still cannot believe you are gone.  I will never again get to hear your laughter or try on funny hat's in the store with you.  How is that possible? It feels like a lifetime since we were in the hospital room surrounding you and yet I can't believe that it has already been a year.  

What amazed me most about the day you passed was as I was crumbling to pieces life around me just kept moving on.  I would see strangers in the coffee shop going through their ordinary moments, rushing from here to there and I wanted to scream out: "my mom just died".  My heart heavy, my eyes on the verge of spilling tears, I didn't know what to do or how to act.  I learned a valuable lesson that day; we never truly know what someone is going through, which is why we should always choose kindness.  

There is so much I want to tell you about this past year and yet at the same time it feels as if there is nothing to say.  Time has gone by in the blink of an eye.  So much loss, so much sadness, so much heartache.  I want to thank you for all the signs you have given me.  All the feathers you have placed on my path.  Each one of them reminds me that you will forever be close in my heart.   

Yesterday we gathered with family and your old friends in the backyard.  We just wanted to be together on such a difficult day.  There was a threat of torrential down pour and incredible thunderstorms, but you know Father ... he hung up a tarp as high as could be and was prepared for the rain.  As Dustin and I were driving down it was pouring and I couldn't help but think back to your 60th party that we threw in your honor a couple weeks after you passed.  Father had said you didn't want a surprise party and you showed us!  This time I think you realized how much we all needed to be with one another and you told the rain to stay away.  It was nice to be together.  

Things around here aren't the same without you.  What I love most is that I see you in so many things that I do.  You had such ease and a way with your grandkids. You let them be kids, get messy, explore, and have fun.  You weren't concerned about the mess you were simply enjoying the moment.  I find myself doing the same things with them and I always think of you.  "Your parent's might not let you do this, but grandma would ... so let's do it" is what I think.  The other day Hannah and I were in your backyard and we were looking at all of your flowers.  She wanted to pick some and of course I let her because I knew you would have done just that.  

You taught me so much about patience.  About appreciating time with family and making a point to get together.  For you it wasn't about the big and fancy things.  No not at all, rather it was about the memories that we could make together and the laughs that we could have.  For this I am most grateful.    

I appreciate all of the time we spent together.  Sitting by the pool in my apartment complex, shopping trips were we bought nothing but had a whole lot of laughs.  Time at the beach.  Crafting together.  Long talks and open hearts.  Girls trips.  Standing on the highway in Pittsburgh.  The memories go on and on.  You and I both know it took a long time for us to be close but it was most definitely worth the wait.  You had become much more than my mom, you had become my friend.  

Even though you aren't here in person anymore I still feel you all around.  I look up to the sky and see your smile.  I talk to you every single day.  A beautiful sunset reminds me of you.  I am running the NYC Marathon in your memory this year.  Each time I am out for a run I think of you and how much you loved the marathon.  I know that you will be cheering me on from above.  

I wish you were here with me right now, sitting on my porch watching the sun go down.  We would be giggling like school girls and probably working on some type of craft.  Know that you are always in my heart every single day.  I am grateful for every memory, every moment, and all the love.  

Sending you a giant hug and blowing up a kiss!

xo ~ Love
Jennifer

did she know she was dying?

Did she know she was dying?  This is what I asked myself as I stood beside her holding her hand one final time.  Everything happened so quickly.  What we thought started as breast cancer spread to her entire body and through it all she remained the most positive I had ever seen her.  She talked about when she would be going back to work and the things we would do when she got out of the hospital.  She searched for the flyer from the newspaper to show my Father the chair she wanted when she got home so she could sit outside.  It broke my heart because I knew she would never get a chance to sit in that chair.  

As I held her hand I was unable to say anything but "I love you, I love you, I love you".  I wanted to tell her so much but I didn't want to let on that she was dying.  Maybe she didn't know.  Maybe  she was peacefully going off to another place and I didn't want to scare her.  Maybe I just did't want to say the words out loud for myself.  

In between hospital visits mom was home for a short amount of time.  She was there, but not really there.  You could see the pain on her face and it broke my heart to see a person who was once so filled with life struggling to take each breathe.  After she passed my brother found on her iPad that she had googled 'Lung Cancer'.  I wonder if there was fear inside of her as she read the results.  Did she know then that she was dying?  

Mom was a trooper right up until the end.  She was more worried about us than she was about herself.  "You can't be spending all this time here" she would say to me "you have things to do".  I refused to leave her side, spending long hours in the hospital chatting, watching the housewives, and giggling about past memories.  "This is why you have a girl" she told the nurse as I was washing her hair in the sink.  "My son would never do this for me".  I remember how terrified I was washing her hair.  I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't want to cause her anymore pain. My dear friend eased my fears telling me to just have fun with it.  "This will be a memory you will cherish" she said, and she was right.  

This Sunday will be the one year anniversary of my mom's passing and those days of being in the hospital with her feels like a lifetime ago, and yet I cannot believe that she has been gone a year.  Time is a tricky thing  Sometimes flying by in a blink of any eye and other times feeling like it is dragging on.  

As I go about my days I see signs of my mom all around.  I feel as if she is watching over all of us and it brings me comfort to know that she is still near.  I still wonder if she knew she was dying or if she was just being strong for us, the way she always did.  I know I will never know the answer but I like to believe that she didn't know.  I like to think that she passed peacefully thinking about going back to work and spending time with her family. We never really know what is next for all of us, and maybe just maybe she didn't know she was dying.