Milestones and a Rebranding

This week marks two years since my last radiation treatment, and most say I’ve been cancer-free. My heart always hesitates to say that, as cancer is tricky. Cancer, for me anyway, always seems to be lurking in the background. I’m thankful for the medical technology that has allowed me to have the treatments I need. I’m also grateful that I live in a country where I have the choices I do medically to decide what I need or want and the freedom I still have to choose. So with those choices, I have fulfilled my desire to help others as they navigate not just grief but losses of any kind, including loss of health.

I rebooted my brand earlier this year after training in Grief Recovery. I decided to do a new logo and take a look at what I want to accomplish on this side of loss. So I had photos done of myself, and I wanted a logo that communicated what I wanted to bring to those suffering loss. You can’t use old keys to open new doors. So I want to give people tools/keys so that they have what they need to complete their loss. Photography will still be a tool I use to express my feelings and to help others capture life. It just will play a supporting role now. I want to thank Kristen McGregor for her graphic artist skills and Lynda Kennedy Photography for her branding photography.

I want to thank my husband, who always sees the vast potential in me that I often overlook. To my son Alex who has also been a cheerleader and support on the days when I felt like I could not see the good, you are my sunshine. To all the health professionals who have cared for me during these last two years but even before that, I’m grateful for your heart and skills. To my family and friends, I’m glad to have you in my corner; although I know, sometimes it can be exhausting, thanks for standing with me. Finally, to Evan, I’m unsure if the stress of your passing had anything to do with my cancer as we are finding more research saying that our bodies keep the score when we are suffering loss/grief. Still, you are one of my best motivators to help others in their suffering. Thanks for that. We miss you every day!

More to come as I start the work on my website and continue facilitating The Grief Recovery Method in my community. I’ve added a link if you want to join in the new year. https://www.griefrecoverymethod.com/content/valley-church-1673487900

Mosaic of Seasons

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all." Stanley Horowitz

I love this quote as it is a lovely word picture of the seasons and the different art mediums. Fall brings cooler weather, leaves changing, shorter days, and the smell of rain in the air. On the other hand, spring brings the brightest flowers, warmer weather, longer days, and the scent of new beginnings. Fall brings an end to the cycle that will begin again when spring returns. It's part of the journey, and yet we so look forward to spring, at least I do. Fall brings changes and those feelings of loss and grief for me.

This Saturday will mark the last birthday I spent with Evan here on this planet five years ago. It's one of the many birthday memories I have of us as a family, and as I begin this new year, it's a longing to be together that never leaves me. The internet isn't always kind when we see all the family's celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, and other special events, and I am ALWAYS repeating the same photos and feelings. This time of year is hard. I woke up the other day, and this overwhelming sense of grief came over and had me crying into my pillow until the sunrise. The days between tears have gotten longer. Softer. But they're still very hard. Sad. Painful. I read this article about Grief Math and had often wondered if these calculations I do on the future anniversaries and such are just a quirky thing that I do, but I've come to realize that it's a thing. That helped me feel ok about what I do.

So Saturday, I begin my next trip around the sun, and with that, I've come out on the other side one-year cancer-free. YAY! I've recovered from radiation and C*vid, and I've learned who can be trusted and who will see me through when the going gets tough. That has been the most painful and most challenging lesson for me. Just as in the earlier parts of grief, you come to realize who can be in it for the long haul, and you find that most of the time, when you go to lean back, the community has left you, and just a few are left to hold your heart. You also learn that the people who dare to stand with you are the people that have similar wounds that you do. Those people understand, and if your space is filled with a few of these precious souls, you are luckier than most.

So I walk into this birthday, feeling slightly anxious about what the future holds but more resolute to follow my path and with the feelings of grief and loss still right on the surface, ready to wake me in the early morning hours to have me watch for the sunrise.

John and Alex, thanks for always talking me off the edge. You both always find a way to carry my heart even though you, too, are walking out your grief.

Drying out from the rain....Capture 2017 Week 2

We have been under clouds of rain for the last week and finally in the last few days we have emerged to dry out and be outside. Although the dampness has caused a bit of ground fog it has still been nice to see the sun and although I LOVE the sun there is beauty to be appreciated in the rain and fog.  

The journey I'm currently traveling is a strange one for me. I have moment of great joy and happiness (the sunny days) and moments of such great sadness and tears (the rainy days) with moments of not knowing if I can see beyond the moment I'm in (the foggy days). Now I can use other analogies that are weather related...but these are the ones that are the most fresh....the here and the now moments. I suspect they are no different then what you probably experience on a weekly basis but I've found that I am much more contemplative~ watching...looking...observing. Trying to find Hope at a time when I feel rather lost and out of sorts.

We recently found a few of Evan's writings and I'm amazed at his work. So much depth. It's funny cause I too wrote much during my younger years. I guess we both had a lot of emotion that didn't have an outlet so we wrote. Most of those writings were born of pain and sadness. Evan's too have the same flavor...depth...sadness. Many though are quite spiritual....almost prophetic so to speak. I hope to add them as I post these updates to the Capture 2017. 

Contingency   

My heart never told my brain to have a contingency plan.

Landlines, locked down by strong winds,

pacified by semi-meaningful promises and

dual-fated illnesses, lack the structural integrity to hold out

and the floodgates burst wide.

Even the eye of the storm–mildly calm compared to

the rest of the sorrowful, cloudy night– is brainwashed

into thinking that it has to act as the rest of tempest must:

with vengeance till the last exhalation

and the floodgates burst wide.

Though I've dabbled in sailing and preparing safety nets,

it must've slipped my first mate's mind to prepare

my last line of comfort and consolation.

I am alone. No one can hear me. I am alone...

and the floodgates burst wide.

My psyche is lost in the tide.

I cannot get out.

 By Evan Kenneth Kincade    3/08