Get It Done!

 

It’s natural with anything challenging that if we haven’t gone through it, we really don’t understand what it is that people are up against. ~ Bp Hope.

Standing on the hardened ground where I spent 7 ½ months of my life, living out of my mini car, I let the tears fall upon the frosted earth. In my hand, I held a note I shared with those in the area. Just a mere 5-minute drive in Victoria, where I had been evicted last March- when the Pandemic began, I said a prayer for those still displaced. 

I was not here to shed tears of sorrow for long, as they were soon replaced with joy, for the day my little car- my home on wheels brought me to my current place of shelter- my sanctuary. This home now, is a place where I am surrounded by healing, where I feel my heart has received…the biggest amount of relief.  

In retrospect,… the battles on the Island, took their toll. 

I faced the trenches of darkness that were filled with the fierce ghosts of my past and as I left, this song played on...

Fear…Is A Liar – Zach Williams        Video Link >>> https://youtu.be/1srs1YoTVzs

When he told you were troubled- You'll forever be alone

When he told you… you should run away- You'll never find a home

When he told you… you were dirty, And you should be ashamed…

When he told you…  you could be the one- That grace could never change…

Oh, fear, he is a liar- He will take your breath, Stop you in your steps…

Fear, he is a liar. He will rob your rest- Steal your happiness…

Cast your fear in the fire 'Cause fear, he is a liar…

In the eight years I fought to remain, I met with the enemy, in places I thought would consume me and yet prior to my move over to the Island, I openly gave talks on the impact of my mental health.

Eleanor Longden was an inspiration...

Over the years, through my presentations to Universities, High schools, and LPN’s, about my two disorders I was diagnosed with- Bipolar and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I always felt far more comfortable, giving the oral version of my scarred heart…just as with writing, I am more comfortable at removing the silence within the air- in a similar way my beloved late daughter once did...

I am reminded of a former Professor saying this to me:

“When your daughter Shayla walked into room, everyone knew it and when she left…she took the air out with her!”

This always makes me smile, because the light of Jesus that shone from within her was evident!

Still, there are those that do not understand my wounds not being visible - out in plain sight, can result in me being viewed in various ways. I am often seen with passing judgement; while others are in awe of my courage. There are those who are sympathetic, while others are plain mystified. To this day, I believe due to all I have survived, I can read someone’s face within minutes and place them into a category- just as they are doing the same to me. This has caused my story to take a back seat; that what I intended to share- often comes out in waves of misrepresentation. I’m often categorized with labelling that has put a shield of armor around me; as many times I have felt the unfair branding of my disorders are misconstrued.

It’s a hard lesson to learn as a Christian…that it is key to love all others no matter what- even those who may loathe me for reasons they do not even understand.

I often wear a shirt I bought at the concert of For King and Country… the verse says it well:

“God only knows the real you”        Video Link>>  https://youtu.be/Q5cPQg3oq-o

Wide awake while the world is sound asleepin'

Too afraid of what might show up while you're dreamin'

Nobody, nobody, nobody sees you…

God only knows what you've been through

God only knows what they say about you

God only knows how it's killing you

But there's a kind of love that God only knows…

This is something I’ve worked through in my years of sharing openly; as it is not my place to determine how they will see me. If I allow you into my heart; you will find no more loyal a person than myself and also no harsher a critic than what I place upon myself at times.

The journey to wellness has allowed me to grow, to place myself in an overflow of empathy, allowing myself to care- even when vilified.

For me to let down my shield and welcome a person in, is to show I am trusting them…not only with my words…but also my heart.

Last weekend, arrangements were made to retrieve both mine and my late daughter’s belongings from storage. Last March, all of our stuff had been loaded 25 times into my small car and moved into the unit. On top of a high monthly payment, I had to deal with the stress; as twice in the one-year storage space, I encountered the master locks not on my container-. Thus exposing my things and mostly my daughters to be stolen-in a place I was paying for peace of mind .

Her death in 2011, had seen me give many things of hers away, to those who appreciated it. This last trip to retrieve everything came at a financial cost of hundreds of dollars. Moreover, is the importance of was who came alongside me and made it happen! These people know who they are…they orchestrated the means to acquire the vehicle, they gave up a day off to grant me their help, time, and compassion to me and my needs. Everything happened rather quickly and because of them... before I knew it, my once empty space in my home, is now surrounded by boxes with mine and my daughter’s name on them!

Emotionally the unpacking is being done in safe positions of time; where I can ease into the unveiling of things from times passed. I've learned about pushing myself too much and take a day off in between my unpacking. I am rediscovering the cherished memories.

 In one box, I came across a photograph that was of Shayla’s Memorial bench.

Two years ago, I had visited the reservoir during the marking of her death, December 12^th. Earlier I had went to the beautiful Tree of Memories and placed an ornament. At the store, I had found a beautiful Christmas card from daughter to Mother and purchased it. I recalled feeling unsure as to why I bought it.

When the words began to flow from a mother’s aching heart- mine- unto the blank pages, I found myself writing in my daughter’s voice…of what she would say to me- from Heaven. I left the card tucked away on her Memorial bench and felt a sense of release.

Just the other day, I found a card of thanks for the people who helped me bring my stuff home. I decided to write it from the perspective of my daughter saying Thank you, once again from the heavens above. In giving the card, I simply couldn’t explain the emotions I felt in finally having all my stuff secure and with me…however, I felt if they could know just how much my daughter’s gratitude would be, that would suffice. 

Yet, after reading scripture and praying, I had several things placed upon my heart.

In sharing my stories of darkness and overcoming with light, my gratitude is shown in various ways. I showed up to express my thanks to the person who had been so kind to me in many ways. I had plans on giving them a beautiful present in a gift bag. Unfortunately, I dropped the bag and the item broke. I also had a bouquet of flowers for her, intended to be gifted at her workplace. They contained Gerbera daisy’s… Shayla’s favourite flowers. I recall a co-worker saying to me at one point when I wondered how to say Thank you to the woman who helped move me, she shared with me… "Just buy her some nice flowers."

Therefore, I gave what was intended, knowing our time together, was drawing to a close.

While I unpacked and sorted through my stuff, I found a beautiful commemorative dove coin from my daughter’s coin/stamp collection. It is from the year 2000 and I thought of all of the help I received in moving over all of daughters and my own things over from the Island. Throughout the process of bringing all of my stuff over from the Island, I received encouraging messages. 

This coin was a reminder of something special shared between mother and daughter.

We enjoyed the TV show: “Touched by an Angel." At the closing of each episode, the dove flew off to the heavens.

I made the decision to gift this coin with a dove on it, to express my humbled gratitude for her caring heart.

I would spend weeks going through my life, where each box contained pieces of my past. Every memento held a story; reminders of the many blessings I have in my life. Found within each precious item I unpacked, were connections to friends who know my deepest wounds and still love me, as their compassion has grown over the years. My best friend of thirty years in Penticton, who I can turn to and offers me her love, without judgment. To the Neurosurgeon I went to school with and who graduated from Harvard…how I treasure our 35-year friendship! To my best friend of 15 years- my former Pharmacist, To my high school classmates, who saw me through years of an abusive, dysfunctional home… and now offer their kindness without mentioning the scars…I love each of you!  To my brothers and sisters in Christ- you balance me, uplift me with scripture and song. You remind of the power of forgiveness…and letting go.

To the fellow leaders, facilitators and people in Mental health and WELLNESS… you’ve shown me the multitude of colours that make up my unique butterfly… they are mine to shine, to spread my wings and fly, to honour what makes me who I am and to remember we are all only human, after all.

I recall how well I dealt with a situation, when a serious mistake was made in the distribution of my medications to me. I was terrified of what nearly happened, as this could have sent me into a spiral. This is because in 25 years of faithfully taking my medication and being a mental health advocate ...I understand the importance of a proper regiment and being accountable with my meds. 

I confided in most of those near and dear mentioned above and they gave me helpful advice, which I am grateful for. 

In the end, I still handled it with God First leading the way.

Later as things have come to pass, I realized my isolation and loneliness, on top of my disorders, caused my own mistakes in over sharing with those in the places I frequented. I needed space to process things that were coming to the surface, as my PTSD had been triggered by my overdoing in my move to where I now reside. 

I had crossed boundaries and as an Angel lady often said to me:

 “We are all meant for a reason, a season and a time.”

 As I walked out the door, I felt my heart say goodbye…💖💦

Returning home, I stood in the midst of all of my boxes and thought to myself: “The one thing I have learned, being apart from my stuff…things can be replaced but what I have…Truly have, with those being solid in my life…I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world!”

 By Tonya L. Alton

God’s Will- New Lasting Memories

 

“It’s not about heart rate…. It’s about Heartbeat.”

The above quote is on my t-shirt, while I type this 😊. Sometimes I feel like a prayer warrior and other times, I overthink, partly due to my stroke and partly to do with my two disorders I have. Better still, some would simply chalk it up to my personality. 

If I ever imagined my 50^th birthday prior to this past month, I would have thought I’d be surrounded by Love…

Love of my dearest friends, love of my cherished daughter and the love of a better half that shared in our dreams together.

Yet several weeks prior, I was looking at no plans, no friends, no daughter and certainly no love in my life.

 In planning my next blog, I was certain I was not even going to celebrate the fifty years I’ve lived. The week of my turning fifty, also had me reflect on my faith journey. The one where I looked back upon my life; rooted in my beliefs and how I have endured, because of what God has brought me through!

Still, it is only human nature to miss what we have loved...  I was missing my angel- my babygirl, I was missing my friends who would not be able to attend my birthday due to our worldly events and the hugs and kisses I had been holding out hope for…all fell through the darkened clouds above me.

Yet, if anything that has been imprinted upon me...I am always in awe and wonder at how I am reminded by refocusing on others in need, it can make our hearts happy!

 It was then I began keeping notes on my surroundings.  On other stories of hope and kindness towards others. I gleaned the headlines- past the depressing news feed of chaos and turbulence of our times. When I dug deeper, it was then I began to see others who were rising above the anarchy and holding onto hope. 

When I allowed my fragile heart to challenge myself; I began to be open to receiving instead of giving.

 Prior to the day of my celebration, I was amazed by the love I was blessed with the wonderful TEAM in my community! If ever there were a group of compassionate hearts; this was it! Each woman working here has virtues that all have touched my heart dearly! 

The ladies made me feel welcome from the very beginning. When one discovered I was short on clothes (as the rest are in my storage), she gifted me had two large bags of her own former clothes.

When she saw I was interested in some-things connected to my daughter, upon my leaving, they were hand wrapped in tissue in a bag and gifted to me. The teacup was reminiscent of the 21 Painted Lady butterflies released in my daughter's memory. 

The three, smooth, painted pebbles each were connected to three, exceptional, young, people.

Always scatter kindness, Best friend 

This amazing person, was not done in her offering of encouragement. Upon hearing my stuff and my late daughter Shayla’s things were still in storage, this beautiful compassionate angel uplifted me, with her words of help. 

 On my 50^th Birthday there were balloons, fabulous food, laughter, and me sharing stories about my babygirl! Everything I imagined happened…just in a smaller version of what I had anticipated.

Brilliant handmade card from J

When two vibrant woman came into my life, they blessed me with their caring, wonderful souls!

 Each listened to chapters of my life that once tinged with heartache – now were released among those without judgement. What use to be an ocean of sorrows, I felt the warmth of friendship join others, with their voices of support. 

Back at the Pharmasave, I was gifted two bags brimming with kindness by the feisty caring angel, who always has wonderful wisdom to impart. Her simple “rules’ of being Thankful always, Be happy and respect one another, is another shining example of a woman whose helping heart is there for her community.

A bountiful of kindness....
 wrapped in butterflies from
my Angel of Beauty. 

 

While my own friends, who could not attend any celebration knew others were made aware of the happy memories made, I know it brought them joy to know that I was not forgotten about.  

 Yet from the day I awoke with a lovely card from Terry and others who chose their own way of blessing me with various generous gifts, I saw the multitude of angels- I call friends... blossom!  

At one point during my birthday week, I had ventured out to a special area; to a revered place that holds treasured memories where Shayla and I had strolled along the vast coastline.

 I was there for several reasons. One was to do a release for three young souls who all passed in their early twenties, of various circumstances. Included with Shayla’s pebble, was my nephew Matt and my best friends daughter, Lindsay. As I held onto those pebbles, I thought of all the love they encompass. The hearts they had touched and those who were left behind to mourn their departure. 

It then occurred to me as I gazed upwards, the love I was hoping for, I was holding in my hand. I had underestimated the power of their love combined~ was now contained in the heavens above me!

During my time at this precious spot…I was able to speak (at a social distance, with mask on) to a Parks worker. I shared why I was there and what the area meant to me. I don’t know, if this person understood, what it meant for me to share a part of my hardest chapter and hold back the emotions- I felt in doing so. Their kindness was a gift shown in hearing about my daughter and all that was done in her memory (in the area). I also was able to connect about my own Parks experiences; having worked up north. This person gave up their lunch to listen to a mother missing her child. This gift is something that added to the days release!

Afterwards, I perched myself upon a majestic piece of driftwood that the ocean’s salt had smoothed. I had brought with me two, clear snowflake ornaments and a heart shaped leaf, with a ladybug on it. Gently, I hung ( only temporary) each one from a piece of the uprooted log, while I sat there. Each ornament was for the three, departed, love ones. As they caught on glints of the suns rays, peeking through the ripples of clouds, I took a moment to honour the lives that mattered. 

In my quiet, I looked up a spectacular skyline filled with the silhouettes of loved ones. This awakened my heartbeat to increase as a thought came to mind…

 In a time when the corners of our world have lost their smiles, I am choosing to believe in the hope of our future, can still be filled with beauty.

 Angel By Your Side | Francesca Battistelli

Video Link>>>

https://youtu.be/vvDBjNG_pws

 On my birthday, I also received the best news. A dear friend and his wife are expecting! If ever a married couple deserved to be parents together…they do!  

For me…this was the greatest gift to receive! The gift of knowing life created will bring so much love and joy!

 I thought how I had once envisioned my 50th birthday and the experience of how it turned out- of course Shayla would have be that big ol’ cherry on top, yet I know angels do exist! They come in the form of those who offer gifts of time, friendship, and love- the ones that cannot be bought and sold!

 So, I dedicate my birthday blog back to all of those who are struggling financially, to those who are dreaming of better tomorrows and to those who are challenged with health issues…this song is for all of you, who more than fill the hole in my heart!!

Martina McBride ~ God’s Will

Part of the lyrics…

I've been searching, wondering, thinking Lost and looking all my life…

 I've been wounded, jaded, loved, and hated I've wrestled wrong and right…

He was a boy without a father and his mother's miracle…

 I've been reading, writing, praying…

 Fighting- I guess I would be still

 Yeah, that was until I knew God's Will…

 Video Link >>> (touching video)! by Martina McBride 

https://youtu.be/YCRrrP0EhPc

 

By Tonya TL Alton

The Words that Heal

WE hurt. WE get wounded. WE hurt others. Only when we accept our actions and seek forgiveness, we feel the process of letting go. 

Along the way, if we are so fortunate, we discover there are other elements that lead to healing. 

One of the songs that can sum it up well for me the impact of wounds is "Hurt" by Johnny Cash (Originally written by Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails).  

Just one passage says so much...

Hurt by Johnny Cash Video Link: https://youtu.be/8AHCfZTRGiI  

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end...

In dealing with our own hurt, each of us has been stung by various acts of misery.

Much like the mighty froth of sea foam, reclaiming the grains of sand from a treasured 

beach...words are powerful. They can cause a miscarriage of emotions that spill forth a 

division of time, where years pass with no forgiveness in sight. 

Along the coastlines I have walked along- the pounding surf ebbs and flows with all the hurt given and received -tossed out to the tides. 

Scattered along the surface, are the emotions I have let fly into the depths of the sea; interwoven with the countless release of pebbles- in her name. 

Affixed to the tendrils of seaweed, are poetic words I've hurled... at the salty components of the often, unbalanced ocean. 

A time is recalled, when my daughter’s ashes were infused with droplets of my tears and the waters of the North Pacific. As a component of immeasurable loss lingered, I found solace in nature's wrath; a way for me to release the heartache over the death of my child, which later would be fused with uncertain acceptance. 

In my years of speaking with the remaining loved ones of diverse losses, the subject of death has been linked to various groups of individuals, including the elderly, those who died at their own hands and those who have been ripped away suddenly- in such a profound manner- some still felt their breathe lingering- long after. 

No matter the fate of our existence, death is an inevitable process - one in which we cope with loss and the commitment of letting go, where often it does not follow a Hallmark pattern of breaking free. 

I believe, that is why often, people are drawn to water. Coupled with healing, it is a source of life. We bath in it, some are baptized in it and the cool liquid, quenches the weary traveler, on their journey of fulfillment. 

Through the healing aspect of water, the element has also been used also as a form of 

punishment, during wartime and a misleading source, to those who sought comfort in it. 

We've also felt the pelting cold shock of a shower and According to the researchers at Yale University, people who take a long-hot shower or bath, may do so to subconsciously ward off feelings of loneliness or social isolation.

A warm hug to those in desperate need of one; cascading water can replenish.

If in between life and death lays hurt... and water can be a release, then their needs to be an understanding of how hurt can equate the power of words. That when married with the poetic justice of truth, can hammer into a soul, the infinite possibilities of their meaning. 

Fine poetry is the music of mathematics, numbers, singing. 

You have to look behind the words to understand their meaning. - The Good Shepherd

In my recent reading, where I have stammered over the meaning of words, I have felt like a child- discovering a book for the first time. 

My strokes have heightened passages I have read- much like a streetlight in the mist, 

the sentences break through a pathway, and I have moments of clarity. 

Then their are times, where I feel the pounding surf, thrash against my weakened frame. As the enemy wrap it's poisonous barbs around my tongue- my gift from the Lord is muted. The words within I am struggling to project- go silent while my problems with speech and understanding language are the norm. Like a thief in the night, the shadows steal words from me and I awaken in anxiety, night terrors and gasping for breathe- to pump air into the hole in my heart. 

Yet, here I am - I still try, but in a different way. When there is transparency, I pray over those who wish me not to scuceed. I pray over those who have caused me hurt and most of all, I pray over my release of those I have caused hurt. I do those because the beautiful release in my tears, which comes from within my body frees you and I. Overtime, built up clump of suffering that is affixed to your wounded heart...sets you FREE. 

Truth is, those who are still bent on hurting me....you are not going up against me...You are going up against GOD. For the Lord is the one, true source, I ask daily to fight my battles!

At the same time, I've learned the importance of giving God the control and turn to Him, to try

 and  make sense of a storyline, he gifted me long ago... to make good on a promise I have yet to fulfill. 

In among my daily readings, there are also reminders of how God uses the power of words, to

 not only transform lives...but to save them.

By the end of 1941, 

Nazi's congratulated themselves on the efficiency of exterminating the lives of those they deemed the enemy. 

One July night, one man- a prisoner escaped Auschwitz. That meant another man would have to take his place. The other prisoners, standing in line, gasped when their beloved Father Kolbe, the priest who shared his last crust, who comforted the dying, who heard their confessions and nourished their souls spoke softly and in calm words stated to those in command: "I would like to die in place of the men you have condemned." 

His name was added to the ledger and he took the place of a previous selected man, who had earlier wept for his wife and children. 

Because if you have Hurt, you have loved and if you have loved then you know sacrifice. 

Those close to me know, on the day my daughter's life was taken, I would have gladly given my own.

Father Kolbe was not seeking gratitude. For if he was to truly lay down his life for another, the fulfillment had to be in the act of obedience itself. - Charles Colson 

Later, I would go on to reading and understanding fully that at times, when we feel vilified by the world...we are to put our self-centered wishes behind and learn what Christ's wishes are for you. 

To be clear, what Father Kolbe did was to lay down his life for his brothers. 

My including this passage is to speak of matters of the cross and in no way is similar to my hurt- but often we come across something that illustrates the true meaning of heartache. 

To remind me that Jesus has gone before me and carried my pain. 

In sharing my experiences of sudden losses of a loved one and the labels placed upon me,

there is also a responsibility to acknowledge, I have released suffering onto others.  

Truth is...the thing about hurt... it is like a rippled shell buried under grains of sand- it can be a source of joyful discovery- or the origin of pain in the arch of your tender foot, when your bare skin finds it. 

Hurt can expand into a place embedded in hate or flourish into healing roots growing down into HIM. I have been on both spectrums and the bitter root of my sorrow has been dug up and replanted, many times over. 

Last year, every corner I turned, seemed to have some caustic reverberation. In the shelter of my vehicle, a barrage of thoughts became red and swollen hurt that clashed in my convoluted mind. My stroke focussed on the hurt I felt from people I thought the moon hung from. 

However, their shininess was soon dulled by the beats of a heart, that fought for life itself. 

Then there was a uprising from the depths of a reservoir,  that sprung forth tendrils of healing. 

In the confines of new shelter, hurt that was spread out over months, years and beyond, saw a baptism of sorts, where God reminded me of my purpose. 

In my owning of hurt caused, I let go of hurt inflicted. That when I looked at certain friends and family once divided, there is a unity, forged in forgiveness. 

So powerful was this; that those from beyond~ their tears all became a part of a brilliant, mosaic, heart. 

When I have had  the opportunity to do so.... I  made the decision, to hand back the metal, to those who had pinned their own hurt -layered onto my fragile heart and instead seek God's grace in every mistake that I have made along the way. 

TL Alton