30 Years

There's a tear that falls between the pages…

I know that pain's supposed to heal in stages

But it depends which one I'm standing on…

Song on Fire ~ Nickelback

There is a name in Hebrew, Havilah meaning “writhing in pain” and “to bring forth”. It signifies the making of something beautiful through pain.

For me I see the parallels of life and death in such a word. I am reminded how thirty years ago, at age nineteen that I gave birth to a beautiful girl Shayla. So vibrant was she that I gave her two middle names Rae Dawn. There was pain in my delivering a 10 lb. 10-ounce, 2 ft baby and also the hidden anguish, of who was not present in the delivery room.

Shayla in Katakana

When Shayla passed at 21, I thought I would surely die inside, of heartbreak. I could not fathom how I would exist without her. Despite trying to formulate the unbearable sorrow felt inside, I fumbled on words of crushing grief. Tears would leak out of the red earth of my eyes- without warning.

How is it then, on what would have been my daughter’s 30^th birthday, I am celebrating when she is no longer here? That I could make plans for a treasure hunt of her precious things, for others to find? Or ask friends and family to honour her name in creative ways?

The truth is, I am giving praise to the creation of her life and not of the day death took her. I am also mindful of what the purpose is intended for. Even though there was no birthday cake, presents or balloons, there is the greatest gift in having raised such an extraordinary, rainbow child.

Shayla didn’t see things in black and white…there was always a kaleidoscope of colours surrounding everything. There were no particles of hate, self-righteousness or unforgiving within her. She proudly wore the uniform of an Air Cadet, the costumes of a dancer and a Judogi, when in practice.

For those that knew my daughter, Shayla was a chameleon.

Her endless array of hairstyles and colours, would see her wearing blonde box braids, or a wine-red spiked mo-hawk, then transform herself with cascading black tresses.

Shayla may have worn self-confidence like a new hat; yet she was a crystallized butterfly inside. Much like her mother, she chased after things that were never attainable in relationships. She poured out her soul, to some who were never deserving of the air, she breathed. Even with all the bullying she endured, Shayla embodied the virtue of forgiveness.

Therefore, every year on the day my daughter was born, I remember the sacredness of her conception. For this young woman taught me more about life through her dying, than anyone else I know. The meaning of Havilah~ making something beautiful through pain~ also refers to celebrating hope. When the page of bereavement has taken my tears, I turn it over… to discover the promise of a future. 2 Corinthians 4:18

In being compassionate, I wanted to join with others, on a day when my daughter came into this world. In doing so, I am not honouring the dead, rather I am rejoicing in the blessing of her once living.

I made a specific request to those in my life, to create Shayla’s name using things. I was not prepared for the amazing and unique ways people shared the ray of Shae. Seeing each display brought me joy and comfort. For those who took the time and made such heartfelt gestures, their sharing resonates within me, the beauty of release.

Later, I gathered personal items belonging to Shayla or had a connection. I decided to tag onto the notion of release and do a treasure hunt. This specific location, is where my daughter had spent time, enjoying the various birds, trees and pathways. 

Cherry Tree reminded me of the video "Fall On Me"

Being creative in my placement of things, I made sure a park worker named Tony, knew what I was doing. I ended up in a lovely conversation about trees, as I was curious about the ‘wrapping’ of some. Tony explained it was to curtail the White Moth from ravaging the tree. I also pointed out a tribute plaque to commemorate those lives perished in 9/11.

I could not refrain, from suggesting a nice polish would be good, to rid of the bird droppings. He agreed it needed a power wash.

At the tail end, I met a wonderful man named Oliver. He inquired about my orange trunk I carried the treasures in. Upon sharing about Shayla and what I was doing, his eyes began to pool tears. He thrust out his hand and felt the need to give me what it contained. It was a perfectly formed pink sea urchin shell, he had found earlier at the ocean. This made me happy, as I thought of how much my daughter had been a lover of the waters. My reaction, saw his cheeks covered with the over spilling, of his water works. This is one thing I struggle with now…if I am the one with the crocodile tears, then that is okay. However, if another person cries- much less a stranger- I want to flee. This is because I’ve had to put a stop valve on my emotions and do not want to open the dam…to see it overflow.

I thanked Oliver for his kindness and decided to take a picture of the seashell.

Gifting from Oliver 

As it grew darker outside, I went back to my place. I put together two sparklers that represented 3-0. I took a golden heart I have wrapped in light and placed it, before I lit the pyrotechnics 😊

Gathering the last tribute to my daughter, I drove to a place I have been to many times before. It is an iron heart, outfitted with locks for people in love. Standing under the streams of lights, I noticed the old lanterns, which reminded me of my novel. 
The scripture I chose was Psalm 57:10.

I wrote Shayla’s favourite song title- “Swing Life Away” by Rise Against. 

I also wrote her initials and I luv U. 

In placing this lock, this symbolizes the letting go of a daughter on this realm, in exchange for the certainty I will see her again. That does not mean I won’t ever cry or celebrate Shayla again. It signifies the comfort in knowing, my daughter is with her Heavenly Father. I am forever grateful for the loaning of her to me.
As I sat under a string of lights, I played on my phone the song, “Fall On Me,” by Christina Aguilera and A Great Big World. Blowing bubbles, I watched them drift past the glow of the twinkling light. I took in the moment and was thankful for no tears. Packing up, I was about to leave, when suddenly the row of four strands of lit bulbs - made a sparking noise. In an instant, I heard the pop of a bulb explode! Gone was the illumination into the darkness. Only the trees remained aglow. I stood there for a moment, completely in awe.

Nodding my head, I thought of how this place we call earth, is not one of eternal belonging. While we hold such reverence for this world… the promise we need to hold onto, is of a future that is unseen, yet known.

by TL Alton