Atticus Henry

Today, my father is a grandfather.

Atticus Henry was born at 7:47 this morning. 8 lbs, 2 oz. Blond hair, blue eyes - just like his daddy. Janelle was AMAZING and delivered him completely naturally. Robin left me a message earlier this afternoon and he sounded ... in love.

I believe that Atticus came to us from heaven, that dad met him before any of us did. I know if he were alive today, dad would be so proud, so thrilled to have a grandson. I know that he's up in heaven smiling down on us, having handed us this precious angel, granting us this beautiful gift.

Thank you, Dad. Thanks to R & J for making me a proud Auntie! I haven't even met Atticus yet, and I already adore him.

From my friend, Heidi ...

This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning god, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body ....

-Walt Whitman

Moving Forward?

I feel stuck.

No. Scratch that.

I feel worse than stuck. To be stuck would mean I'm in one place, but no. I'm all over the place.

I'm a disaster. Yes. That's more accurate.

It's like everything from the past 7 months ... or my entire life ... is back. As though every ounce of pain I ever suffered is revisiting me. And pain brought friends. Jerk.

Yesterday I found myself lying in my bed in the dark, crying uncontrollably; my heart feeling as though it was breaking ... again. And this time I feel I have no one to blame but myself. I didn't follow my own rules. I didn't protect my heart. And I got hurt.

But, I learned something. I learned I'm nowhere near ready to date. My heart cannot suffer anymore heartache. Not this year. I took a chance with a man I actually quite like and the rejection was almost too much to bear. This is something in the past I would have recovered from rather quickly. But this time was different. This time it felt like ... loss. I can't deal with more loss.

And it's not just men. Not just dating.

Recently I was running a 5km run as part of the Island Race Series here in Victoria. At approximately the 1km mark I noticed my roommate, Krista, flagging me down. Looking just past her I noticed a gaggle of people hovering over a body, a man. I ran to where they were and explained that I was a nurse. Without going into too much detail, this man didn't survive. He went into cardiac arrest on the scene and while we (supporters on scene and paramedics) did the best we could to save him, it just wasn't meant to be. This experience brought up a lot of emotion for me.

It brought me back to the morning I lost my father. The absolutely heart-wrenching pain ... it was there again. I heard my mother say "Dad died this morning." I saw his peaceful face when we went to view him at the funeral home. I heard his voice saying "Hi Munchkin!" It brought back that awful realization that I'll never hear him say that again. This is a picture of my dad from my cousin, Shannon's wedding. It was taken July 24 of 2009. He was so happy here!


It brought back the morning we lost my aunt. We were all awake. It was 2 days after dad's funeral and myself, my mother, my three aunts (Chris, Mavis and Mary) and cousin, Melissa, were staying with my mum. It was quite early in the morning, maybe around 7:30 or so. I was in dad's office checking my email and I knew everyone else was up in the living room. I had received an email from someone I didn't know and called my mum to ask if she knew who it was. When she came into the office she looked at me and said "Aunt Mavis has angina and she's having some chest pain. We've called an ambulance." I immediately went into "nurse" mode. "Do you have any nitro? Have you taken any aspirin?" I sat with my aunt and asked her about her pain, how long it had been going on, where it was, etc. Then I decided I would go with her to the hospital. While I was at the hospital with her I watched her die. I watched her go into cardiac arrest. The doctors brought her back. I had a chance to tell her I love her. The paramedics whisked her off to Saskatoon where she later died of a heart attack.

My Aunt Chris believes that the first time Mavis died, my dad and Aunt Laura showed her just how beautiful heaven was. So she decided to stay.

Here are a few pictures from dad's funeral. One of Mavis with her sisters. One of all of us ladies.



So what now?

I'm trying to move forward, trying to find the good, trying to see all the positive things life has to offer. So ... because I like lists, I'm making a "List of the Good" or a "Things to Look Forward to" list.

1. Trip to Saskatoon from April 1 - 9: See my mother, brother, sister-in-law, nephew???, goddaughters, friends. Help my mum move into her new condo. Creating some good memories of Saskatoon, when most recent memories harbour pain.

2. My nephew!!!! Can't wait to meet you little man.

3. Trip to the Philippines April 16 - May 1: I'll be traveling with my Dragonboat Team to Boracay for a festival. The festival takes place over 4 days or so and the remainder of the time I'll be traveling the country, surfing, climbing volcanoes, swimming with whale sharks.

4. Summer in Victoria: This is such a beautiful city! I hope to take full advantage of my downtime and do some exploring of the city and the Island over the summer! Maybe surfing in Tofino. Running along the water.

5. Life: I still have one. I need to not lie in bed in the dark and feel sorry for myself, but to live my life every day as if it were my last.

Yes. That's what my dad would want. That's what all of my angels would want.

Does he know?

I've been quite contemplative these days. Where is my life headed? What is my destiny? Big questions. Questions I didn't really have to previously consider. I always knew I'd be a nurse. Here I am. A nurse. But now what?

I find myself looking for signs, clues, as to what my next step should be. I wonder if Dad knows what I'll find in life, where my path will take me. I sometimes hope that he's sending me signals, guidance. Unfortunately, these "signals" could be right in front of me but I don't know how to read or understand them. And what if the signals are answers I don't want to hear? What if what I want isn't what's right for me? If he tells me that something's not right, will I listen?

Scott Peck once famously wrote, "Life is difficult".

What an understatement.

Purple Tulips

I always referred to Aiden and Reece (my goddaughters) as My Beautiful Tulips. Reece died on December 27, 2007. Her funeral was early January. At the funeral we all wore purple ribbons in memory of her. The morning of the interment I went to the local Safeway to get some flowers to put on her casket. At first I thought daisies, as they are her birth flower (April). I walked around for a while carrying Gerber Daisies in my hands. But they didn't feel right. Then I saw the flower fridge. Inside the fridge were purple tulips. They were perfect. I felt as though Reece had placed them there for me; as if she knew I would need them. Because really? Purple tulips in Saskatchewan in January? A rarity for sure.

On February 28, 2009, my Aunt Laura (one of my dad's 5 sisters) died of lung cancer. She was 61. She lived here in Victoria, so I was fortunate enough to spend a good deal of time with her in her final days. Such a lovely woman. I remember she died on a Saturday. The Wednesday prior to this I had stopped in to see her at Hospice and saw that she was starting to change. I knew it wouldn't be long. I sat at her bedside and she tried to talk to me but was so tired so I just held her hand. Then, I asked her a very selfish question. I said "Aunt Laura, can you do me a favour? When you get to heaven could you tell Reece that I love her?" I cried. She opened her eyes and said to me "Oh Erin. I'll take such good care of her! I can see her already, with her beautiful smile and big blue eyes." I cried more and she comforted me. This woman, in her final days, comforted me!!! She looked at me and said "You need to go get yourself some purple tulips." :)

I have purple tulips on my coffee table today.

Morningtown Ride

I have been missing my dad a lot these days. I mean, I miss him every day ... these days it just hurts more than usual. There was nothing to trigger it really ... Well, my car was making a weird noise the other day and in the past I would always go to my dad about these kinds of issues. Then I just really miss the sound of his voice. I miss calling and having him answer and say "Hi Munchkin!" I'm a 30-year-old woman and my father was still calling me Munchkin, or 'Munch' for short. I miss it. I miss his terrible jokes. I miss his laugh. I miss ... I just ... I miss him ...

It's almost as though it's getting harder the longer he's gone. He wasn't a part of my everyday life. We didn't speak every day. I only saw him a few times a year at best. But now I don't have a choice. And sometimes ... sometimes a girl just needs her dad.

Here is a picture of him participating in the Battle of Atlantic Sunday Parade here in Victoria in May 2008. He was so proud and so happy to be there!


I've been listening to his CD a bit more the past few days - trying to get my fix, I guess. Dad was always such an amazing musician. If I had to choose one song that reminded me of dad ... well, it's just not possible. He knew too many! But there is one song in particular, I guess, that will never make me think of anyone but him. It's called "Morningtown Ride". It's a lullaby. He used to sing it to me when I was a kid. I'd like to share the lyrics here.

Train whistle blowin' makes a sleepy noise
Underneath their blankets go all the girls and boys
Rockin', rollin', ridin', out along the bay
All bound for Morningtown, many miles away

Driver at the engine, fireman rings the bell
Sandman swings the lantern to show that all is well
Rockin', rollin', ridin', out along the bay
All bound for Morningtown, many miles away

Maybe it is raining where our train will ride
All the little travellers are warm and snug inside
Rockin', rollin', ridin', out along the bay
All bound for Morningtown, many miles away

Somewhere there is sunshine, somewhere there is day
Somewhere there is Morningtown, many miles away
Rockin', rollin', ridin', out along the bay
All bound for Morningtown, many miles away

Rockin', rollin', ridin', out along the bay
All bound for Morningtown, many miles away.

I miss you, dad. So much it hurts. I need you right now.

So if you're there ...

Happy New Year?

I certainly hope so ...

Today I was at work. On my coffee break I did what most nurses do: got coffee. There's a Tim Horton's on the main floor of the hospital. As I was making my way down the hallway, large black coffee in hand, towards the elevators that would take me to the fourth floor (I really should start taking the stairs), I passed the gift shop. And there was this decorative ornament, nothing really notable about it. But there was a saying on it. "Leave room in your heart for angels to dance". In a matter of steps, as I registered this ornament, my heart began to ache. It made me think of my dad ... my angel. It made me think of that morning all over again - the morning he died. I had to catch my breath. My heart ached ...

The holidays were tough. This would be a holiday of many firsts for many of my family members. My mum, brother and I were without my dad. His sisters without their brother. But also without their two sisters who we also lost in 2009. Those sisters left children behind to mourn them, to struggle through the holidays, to be left thinking and hoping that 2010 would be a better year, a year of hope, of happiness. I miss him ...



The holidays also marked a very important and devastating anniversary. On December 27, 2007, my dear, dear friends, Angela and Grant, lost their daughter very suddenly. Reece. She was 20 months old. The holidays are a time that should be marked with cheer and family and celebration. For Ange and Grant (and for all of us who knew and love Reece), the holidays bring anguish, pain, heartache. I miss her ...



I was reading a book over the holidays. "Salem Falls" by Jodi Picoult. There was a quote in the book that really resonated with me:

"... after a certain point, a heart with so many stress fractures would never be anything but broken."