A new normal

This March was iterally the longest month of my life. Where last March was by far the very worst month of my life, it was all a blur, a haze of going through the motions and surviving through the worst shock a mother can ever have, this March has been absolutely terrible on top of already bad and has dragged on endlessly. My birthday. The 1 year anniversary of my daughter’s and her 2 roommates sudden deaths. Her birthday. My 14 year old niece’s attempted suicude. It’s just all too much for one person to handle some days. Actually who am I kidding? Most days. And honestly, I’m lonely. I miss my best friend. The one person I could and did talk to about everything is gone. And you know what? That’s what’s the hardest. Not having that person to talk to about life anymore. 

I look forward to moving on to April already. Farewell and good riddance March. You will forever be known as the month to be dreaded for each and every year until I no longer exist.

Happy birthday to my beautiful girl Alysia. 💔❤️💔

(Sasha Ham before she could pronounce her name 💗)

Today you would be 27 years old. 27 years old. It’s bizarre to think of you as a complete grown up. An almost 30 year old. Even more so to think of having a 27 year old child that’s mine. I still remember vividly who I was at the same age. As much as I miss you, talking to you, hearing you laugh, watching you grow up, your big bear hugs and you taking care of me (there aren’t even words to describe how much), what I really think about lately is who you’d be today, 5 years later. What would you be doing? Would you have found your place in the world? A job you love and a home that was truly yours. Your person? Someone who loves you fully and completely. Someone who makes you feel safe and sound. Would you be the young mom that you wanted to be by now? You would have been an amazing mom. It would have been so much fun to watch you with your own little person. Would we still be best friends and talk every day about everything? Would you be happy? The what-if’s swim in my head, today more than any other. We lost a huge part of our future with you. Losing you is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me and your brother. It still hurts so much. There’s a big gaping hole in our lives where you used to be. It still doesn’t always seem real. Like it happened yesterday and a million years ago….

Alysia there are honestly no words for how much you are missed, every single second of every single day. You were a precious gift. You so greatly affected the lives of everyone you met, you never even knew just how much. Hundreds of people came to your funeral. Hundreds. And they all knew you somehow.

I treasured our close friendship and miss it immensely (you were really truly my person), your absolute natural beauty, you had no idea just how beautiful you were. Your ability to mom me, while I was momming you, you were the only person who always took care of me. How brave and strong you were through your struggles with your health. All of the concerts we went to together because we loved the same music (road trip to Edmonton just to see RHCP and then back home again in 1 night). The millions of movies we watched together (the numerous LOTR, Harry Potter & Star Wars marathons all weekend long). The tv show marathons where we laughed and cried together. And then laughed at each other crying. Your wonderful sense of humour, I miss giggling with you at the most ridiculous things, your kindness, your intelligence, your spunk and attitude, your absolute silliness, your genuine love for the people you cared about, the way you lived your life on your terms, even though it was difficult sometimes, your distaste for the rules (driving long before you had your license), how much you adored all the animals in your life (and always, ALWAYS wanted more), and even more, how much you absolutely loved and adored and wanted to protect your little brother from the moment he was born, and how proud you were of him. You were an incredible big sister and daughter. Austin and I are so very lucky to have so many amazing and wonderful memories of you and to have done the things we did together in the short time we had. I’ll never forget our many, many road trips. Or Paris & London. Or New York City. Or Banff. Or driving all the way to Orlando to go to Disney & Universal Studios. My 19 year old daughter standing in line with all the little girls so she could meet the Disney princesses and have her picture taken with them. Or you marching into Tiffany’s in NYC like you owned the place to buy yourself something, just because you could. Both are favourite memories of mine. I wear your Tiffany necklace every single day. You completely adored your cousins Amber and Chelsea and love that the girls idolized and looked up to you. And you so loved your second mom, Auntie Michelle, even more so because you had someone else who would make fun of me with you. They all miss you so very much too. Your compete love of Christmas, it’s just not the same without you goddammit. And the beach, all of the beaches. I take you with me to all of them now. I loved that you loved photography too (just like your momma) and seeing how you captured the world. So many Jays games. The TIFF adventures. All of it. Every minute. Adventures just aren’t the same without you on them anymore, no matter how hard I try.

I was so proud of your ability to be a kid while still being such an old soul. And you really were an old soul. Wise beyond your years. Those beautiful eyes of yours held the secrets of the universe somehow. You were mine and Austin’s shining light, through everything, and always knew how to make us smile. You were our compass. It was always the 3 of us against the world. I know you are still with us, I see your little messages from beyond, and maybe that’s why we are somehow still standing through our devastation and sorrow. Thank you for keeping an ever watchful eye on us. Being our guardian angel. You are so missed Alysia. You will always and forever be so loved. You were so very, very precious to us. A piece of my heart will be forever missing with you. Your brother and I will never forget you.

You were beautiful. You were amazing. I was so very lucky you were mine. ❤️

Love always and forever,

Your Momma ❤

“I awake each morning to start a new day

But the pain of losing you never goes away.

I go about the things I have to do

And as the hours pass I think again of you.

I want to call you and just hear your voice

Then I remember that I have no choice

For you are not there and now my heart cries

Just to see you again to tell you goodbye

To say Alysia I love you and I always will

The day that you left I just didn’t know

That you were going where I couldn’t go.

And now all my memories of you are so dear

But gosh, how I miss you and wish you were here.

Who now can hear me when I need to cry?

It so hard to tell you “Alysia goodbye.”

Someday I know all will be well

And I’ll see you again with stories to tell

Of how you were missed and how we’ve gone on

And how good it is to finally be home.

Until then my memories of you I’ll keep near

And I’ll pass them on to those who are dear.”

I miss you Alysia. So very much.

Truth.

These words were not written by me, but describe how I feel perfectly.
I talk about her……
“I know you don’t understand. I’m so thankful you don’t. I know time has passed. Somehow, the world kept turning, even when mine stopped. I’m back on the ride now, reluctantly, sometimes half-heartedly, but I’m showing up. I know I am changed. I forever will be. Maybe that’s what happens when you kiss a piece of your heart goodbye.
I know it’s hard to hear, see, comprehend. When you tossed around words like “stuck” or “move on”, I wanted to explain it all to you, not with anger or spite. No, friend. I wanted to explain the tenderness, the sweetness, the deep love that doesn’t fit into the neat lines and acceptable boundaries of this world. I wanted to tell you about the richness of it all, yet the words seemed to fail. Some sentiments and explanations are bigger than me, bigger than answers, bigger than I can succinctly share.
There are so many things I wanted to tell you, and in an effort to package it all nicely, into a brief statement, thoughts and feelings have spent months running rampant through my mind, demanding to be felt, experienced, shared. It’s something bigger than me, bigger than any person or situation. It’s about death and a love that is greater.
So, I talk about her…
I talk about her, because grief doesn’t need to be experienced silently, especially when the silence is fueled by stigma and shame.
I talk about her, because frankly, acknowledging her is more important than the discomfort of acquaintances. As much as I never want to alienate people, she’s as familiar to me now as the air that I am breathing.
I talk about her, because it’s my prerogative. In a culture of bravely making your own choices, no matter which direction others are going in, this is mine.
I talk about her, because it’s one way I process and feel. Feelings demand to be felt, I’m learning, and the stuffing and pushing aside doesn’t leave room for the wounds to heal.
I talk about her, not because I’m stuck or because I haven’t moved on, but I talk about her because I am her’s, and she is mine, and no passage of time will ever change that.
I talk about her, not because I’m constantly living in pain. I’m not anymore, but in my world, this is my normal, and I’d rather live honestly and out loud. Joy, love, happiness, and gratefulness are my everyday, but so are death, loss, heartache, and grief.
Even more so…
I talk about her because I’m proud.
I talk about her, because she deserves to be remembered.
I talk about her, because even though she’s not physically with me, she’s never far from my mind.
I talk about her because she’s part of me, a part that I could never ignore or disown.
I talk about her because I love her still, and I always will. Forever. Nothing will ever change that.
This is my normal. I know it’s hard to understand, and maybe that’s okay. When it comes to loving her, I will not be silent or hide away, and the bottom line is that is okay, too.”

If you said goodbye to someone you loved today and somehow it was the last time you ever saw them, would you have done anything differently?

Don’t be afraid to say I love you to the people in your life. As much as you can. You truly never know.

2 years ago today (November 26th) I drove Alysia to the airport in Calgary, gave her multiple huge hugs and said goodbye to her at the security gate as she left to fly home to Toronto. The very last thing I said to her as she walked away? “I love you so very much. Be safe”.

 

Who knew that would be the last time I would ever see her or hug her?

I miss her so incredibly much.

“No day shall erase you from the memory of time.”

Virgil

We dedicated a bench to you today.

To you.

And Jordan.

And Katie.

In Georgetown.

In memory of you all.

It has a plaque with your names engraved on it.

And it’s in a lovely spot.

But it’s still surreal.

How can all three of you be gone.

Just like that.

How can there be a bench in your memory.

When you should be here in body.

And soul.

Living.

Laughing.

And loving.

It’s still completely surreal.

You should be here.

Not a bench with your names on it.

I have an almost constant nightmare lately.

I’m trying to save you.

Always trying to save you.

From zombies.

Or aliens.

Or vampires.

Or various versions of ‘bad guys’.

I’m trying to save you.

Always trying to save you.

Over and over.

Night after night.

But I can’t.

You’re already gone.