When on December 12th, 2011, my only child- my daughter’s
life was submerged below the ice-filled reservoir, I had
to navigate my grief journey and do it on my own terms that has seen me still
breathe in this world.
In the folds of bereavement, is the old cliché….Time heals
everything. I can assure you, ten years into my grief, I don’t much like time,
in that I feel the hurt on a deeper level…more than anything. I count ten years
without my daughter, ten lonely Christmas’s without her, 10 birthdays comes and
gone. After she died tragically in a car crash, I also had to let go of her
many caring friends, for my heart could not handle weddings taking place, babies
being born, and lives carrying on, while my babygirl became ashes to the wind.
I grew bitter, and full of remorse, guilt that I could never
prevent her from driving solo to McKinley Landing- where a baby born into the
family- Shayla could not wait to see! I became obsessed with the road and
ensuring safety measures were in place- so this absolutely horrible accident,
would never happen again! I barged into safety meetings, demanded to be heard
and even had a rock memorial placed where Shayla had died in the frozen
McKinley reservoir!
They say that times a healer…just how long is this burn suppose to last? ~ The Mortal Instruments
Every December 12th, I travelled to the area, on
my knees I would fall and smash my frail hands against the earth where my
daughters lifeless body remained trapped! While I was entrenched in gripping
grief, never once did I dare to blame the one thing that remained solid in my
life…God. From the very first day of standing over a hole in the ice- the
watery grave of my daughter- I was torn inside. There was no room to hold responsible
what was human error, after all I took solace in knowing Shayla went home to be
with the Lord on December 12th, 2011. I remembered when she began to
first drive, and I gifted her the same wooden cross I had dangling in my
vehicle. The cross would have been the last thing her eyes saw, before her car
smashed down and careened into the murky, cold waters.
Looking back, I was a soul torn into two- a mother whose
child was suddenly and cruelly- ripped away.
It was as if our intertwined spirits, did not know how to
accept the abrupt loss and our hearts that beat as one…still had much catching
up to do in acceptance.
For Shayla Is my Pārbati
Bound together for life… to fight together and protect
each other through life.
IN BATTLE…OUR HEARTS BEAT AS ONE. IF one of us were to
die…a part of the other would die inside as well. ~ The Mortal Instruments
Next to the Sanskrit word Vilomah- a word that refers to a parent whose child has died, I could not think of a better word or explanation of the bond that happens between a mother and her baby.
Throughout the 21 short years together, Shayla and I had
faced many battles. Some on her own- as in the cruel world of bullying that my
daughter battled and in the ever evolving world of mental health. We faced
together the harsh realities of those stricken by poverty and addiction crisis,
along with the stigma of my own illness.
On the beautiful occasion I was able to see my daughter take
a stand for others, it was as if God had allowed me to see His mercy shine upon
others. His purpose was her purpose, and her intent was for me to see her
strength and embrace her own weaknesses.
When I was nominated for the Courage to Come Back Award,
then also one of the many faces of Mental Illness, Shayla proudly shared with a
sense of joy! One that is rarely seen with someone who they themselves are
struggling for identity.
After her sudden passing, I went on to become a leader for
GriefShare- a faith based support group I taught for six months. That only came
after two years of counselling and receiving support myself.
Yet if I can offer any insight in ten years of grieving…is this:
Emotions are never black and white- neither is light and darkness. While I
never succumbed to the atypical source of addictions in alcohol and drugs, I
found their was comfort in self-inflicting pain….and no, not in self-harming
such as cutting, I found a release in to the darkness connected to my past. One
that sees me on a merry go round, where the shadows call my name. In the past
ten years- I have been ‘displaced’ without a home three times. I can save the
therapy and say, it is because I feel that I am UNLOVED.
With my daughter, we were twins in the sense that joy was
shared in a multitude of ways and pain was etched upon our hearts. Both of us
suffered from depression and high anxiety. We both, were Survivors of assaults and
both of us had been heavily bullied. In times of strife, we turned to one
another. We shared the same smile, the same laughter…the same creases in our
eyes when our faces were alight with happiness.
From there on….I had a choice…seek the light or pursue the
darkness.
Many thought, I never would survive her death. I believe they
had good reason given the strong bond we had shared, now had been severed.
One of the first things done…was a short hike to an area,
overlooking McKinley Landing. Here, a memorial rock cairn was built by my former
spouse Paul Padgett. Whatever transpired between he and I, I won’t take away the
kindness and love he had for my daughter. I believe my own hurt clouded this
and over time, I felt I needed to remove his pain from the two of us. However,
he built this memorial right after Shayla passed away and I am including it in
the 10 year tribute, as it was the first thing done out of heartache and
sorrow.
I also had other important things to focus on…aligning with those whose purpose was to bring safety changed to McKinley Landing Road. Endless road trips, Council held meetings, engineers were commissioned, until finally only months later, nearly a half-million dollars was awarded for those positive changes to occur.
Months later, a phenomenal two-sided remembrance quilt was created by a mother and sister, who Shayla was close to. It was her former boyfriend’s mother who tenderly stitched this together and presented it to me. The front cover of my novel (UTST) has my daughter’s words on it:
“It’s okay to fight…as long as your fighting for someone…or something.”
To honour her Rockhounding, I created The Heart Pebble Movement ~ a cause that saw in over a four year period, between 300- 400 rocks, gemstones and pebbles, be placed all over the world- in Shayla’s memory.
In my ten years of blogging, I have written about the endless releases done in locations such as Hawaii, Jamaica, Machu Picchu, various location in England, including Stonehenge and many more! Again, this cause brought me comfort and kept me busy.
Friends and strangers have also done beach tributes, nature tributes out of leaves and flowers, then sent me photographs. I simply cannot include everyone, as my posts are already lengthy.
I’ve shared on her Birthday and on her ‘death day’, how I
have brighten the lives of those in need, by gifting treats and sandwiches,
coffees all in her memory, as that is what Shayla would want.
When it came time to release her ashes, I travelled to Maui and was joined in love by the locals, who also honoured my daughter's life, with their presence and tears.
The last thing I promised my daughter, was the ‘pinky promise’ of the book I wrote. Shayla always understood the purpose of ‘Under the Sitka Tree.’ She knew I was not looking to reap fame or fortune, rather to share my soul journey of survivorship, love found and lost, redemption and forgiveness….most of all….of release.
Last week, I kneeled in prayers and sought what to do to
keep ‘Sitka’ going? In what felt like a piece of my heart was broken off…I made
the decision to sign a Publishing Contract and place my trust with my formatter, Leon Oldale. This resulted in me having an emotional struggle with truly releasing. For the
connection to Shayla runs deep and the book has always held a strong connection
between her and I.
I have kept my promise to my babygirl as I know its what she would want me to do. Part of her life was growing up watching me write and if she were here today, I know she would be sad over the sorrow that threatens to engulf me…My daughter would say: Momma, one day…somebody’s going to love your kind heart and warm soul…
In all of these things, over the past ten years, there has
still been a spark that lights up around her memory. For me, it felt like I was
completely letting go and it brought me back to the day I stood at the reservoir,
to say goodbye.
In reflecting, I feel as if feel I was merely surviving off
of her beautiful spark of light and now everything has come full circle. That
before me is a place that has only been patiently awaiting me.
YOU DON’T GET TO CHOSE…The light and the dark are both
part of you. Whether you like it or not.
I have been very raw and honest about the life I have lived…several
times now I have lived out of my small car. Maybe there lays the answer within
itself…that without Shayla, I feel there is no real home on this earth.
You cannot run away from grief…it trails you like a
violent shadow…Louise Wain’s wife Emily
So maybe that is it…in my weakened and weary state, I’ve
finally run out of things to do in her memory and all that awaits is a colossal
wave of grief and loss...yet to come.
…the artist lived a troubled life where often,
after momentary happiness, an everlasting catastrophe awaited... Louis Wain was
an outcast, a renegade, lonely, frightened yet brave, and resilient. By Sushrut Gopesh
By TL Alton
