A big fat stinking mess, yet beautiful. Welcome to life.

A panel of my "Letting Go Lantern"
© 2017 Toni Becker,
 Whimsical Jewels, Artfully Healing

I'm drowning.  Drowning in the messy happenings of life.  The waves are crashing, beating against my being stealing my breath.  My heart beats faster.  My breath escaping me.  Try as I might I just can't catch my breath.  I'm trying to stay afloat... my legs kick faster, even though I can feel this sinking feeling.  I fight.  I breathe.  I kick harder.  But there's a heavy weight pulling me down.  I feel like I'm drowning.  Right now, that's how my grief feels.

For many weeks now I have fought kicking and screaming with so many people I'm exhausted.  I've felt unheard, thinking am I not being clear?  After such in depth conversations and clear examples, I'm left wondering how my words could have fallen so hard on deaf ears.  The result is a suffocation I can't describe.  All the while people on the sidelines are telling me to scream louder, advocate harder, do this do that...  I've done all I can do.  I've done the best I could do.  And yet, I don't feel like it's remotely over or nearly enough.  And I'm wondering how much I have left to give and if I have the strength to keep fighting.  I'm tired.  No, I'm exhausted.  I'm to the point now I can barely put words together to form a coherent sentence.  Sitting here typing this is taking everything I have, but I know at the end I'll feel better so I keep stroking the keys.  Not giving a shit what it sounds like, or if it makes any sense.  The blog is artfully healing... and this is part of my healing and the art form I'm using in this moment to soothe my tired mind, bleeding heart, and exhausted frame. 

A panel of my "Letting Go Lantern"
© 2017 Toni Becker,
 Whimsical Jewels, Artfully Healing

The same waves that are crashing against my frail frame causing me to feel the tremendous burden of grief, are also in the same way healing and transforming me.  It's a big fat stinking mess and yet so beautiful.  It's here in this moment with the weight of everything I know that when it's all said and done, I will be better for it.  It's just so hard to see it when I feel like I'm drowning and trying to keep my head above the water.

I wrote the above passage on 7/16/18, but never published it.  I'm not sure why I left it as a draft, but I did.   And now as I read the above words, I realize it feels complete and incomplete simultaneously.  Now three months later my words are still relevant to my daily life, but the anticipatory grief that I feel is heavier and more of a reality.  At the time of writing the passage my mom was at a rehab center getting ready for discharge.  She had been under hospital type care for a month... a week in the ICU, a week on a regular floor, and then discharged to a rehab facility where she spent two and a half weeks.  I battled with all of them, advocating for her care making sure she was taken care of and receiving the care she deserved.  Ultimately she was discharged before she was ready due to insurance, and my choices were limited so I brought her home with us.  The fighting and advocating didn't stop, but thankfully it hasn't been as intense.  Now with hospice coming into our home, I find myself breathing a little easier regarding her care.  The care she's receiving right now is exactly what she needs and quite frankly what everyone needs to receive throughout their life span, not just at the end of life.

My beautiful Mom on her birthday
10/11/18

Today the grief is heavy.  I know my days with her are numbered, and everything else that goes on in one's daily life seems unnecessary and quite frankly a waste of my time.  I find myself thinking about all the stuff we waste our energy on that serves no purpose and lacks meaning.  I feel my mind drifting, wishing I had the means to be with her around the clock for this last journey.  I'm mad because I can't be.  I'm sad that it's happening.  This morning, I awoke at 3 am with a heaviness in my chest and a wave of sadness that stole my breath.  These last few days as I've watched my mom, in her own way she has told me to back up.  "Toni, you worry too much."  In my mind, I reply I know but I only have one mom and she's dying.  I feel her energy and things start melting away.  It's here that I look at her.  I see her clearly.  I realize some of her behavior is fear, sadness and her own grief.  I'm sure she doesn't want this to be the end either.  She  feels the same as us... She wants to stay as long as she can and we want her to be here for as long as her spirit allows.  Her light is magnificently beautiful and I realize how blessed I have been to have had such an incredible woman as a mother.  My heart is heavy.  The thought of moving forward without her steals my breath and makes my chest feel like an elephant is sitting on me.  This is grief.  This is sadness.  This is a big fat stinking mess, yet oh so beautiful.  Welcome to life.....  and death.  A full circle.

My handmade birthday gifts for my mom
Handmade Journal & Canvas Necklace
© 2018 Toni Becker; Whimsical Jewels & Artfully Healing

Celebration of Life

Today I celebrate you.  I think of the time we had together, our conversations, the memories, and all the beautiful characteristics that made you,.... You.  I wish I could call you, hear your voice, and then sing or belt out the worst tune of happy birthday to you, but today singing into the energy of this world will have to do.  

Wow...  38 years.  What would you have been like now?  Would you be different?  Would be you the same?  Would you be a better version of who you were?  I like to think so.  I imagine you would be more settled in life, grounded in the man you were becoming.  I imagine you would still love with a strength and depth few will ever be able to reach.  I imagine you would hold those close to you, that have captured your heart.  I imagine you with the largest grin on your face, trying to make those around you smile too.  I imagine you still having a fierce loyalty to friends.  I imagine a lot of things about you, who you were then and who you were becoming.  When I think of all of this, it makes me miss you.  Miss that I won't have the opportunity to see what you would become or how your life would evolve and transform on this physical plane.  But I do see you, it's just a different view than in a physical form.  You are more radiant than what you were, a beauty that isn't defined by the shape of a body.  And that makes my heart beam and shine with an amazing love for you.







You, my brother, are missed and loved more than words can express in this short blurb.  When I think of the incredible life you had, in the short 31 years you were with us, I stand amazed.  The purity of your soul was beyond most.  The fire and zest you carried for the adventure of each day was inspiring.  The loyalty you had for those you loved was breathtaking.  Your valor made me beam with pride.  The way you looked out, for those you loved, made my heart fill with joy.  There's only one you and I'm glad I can say you were my brother, my friend, and my family.

happy birthday, Jon.  I love you.

The Giver

This beautiful woman is the giver of my life.  Some people call her Dulce, which means sweet, I call her mom.  Sometimes I call her Mommy or Momma.  And for the record she is pretty sweet.  She is one of the most beautiful creatures I know and the fact that she's my mother, makes me one of the lucky ones.

Some children don't have the distinct honor of having a remarkable mother.  They have a woman who gave them life and that was it.  Not me.  She carried me and loved me from the moment she knew I was growing inside her belly.  Then when she gave birth to me, she loved and nurtured me...  and continues to do so.  She has guided me in this life and taught me to be the woman I am today.  I've learned so many remarkable things from her, too many to count.  I'll list a few, but seriously, what she has taught me I wouldn't have the space or time to write.

My mother and my teacher, these are a few of my greatest lessons she has given me.  When the seas are raging she taught me to stand strong and brave the storm.  She taught me to always be true to myself, despite what others wanted.  She taught me to be feisty and fight for what I want.  She taught me that...  I am ENOUGH.  She taught me that true beauty lies within and to embrace it.  She taught me to DREAM and to reach for the stars, even if it seems impossible.  She taught me about community and the importance of giving back to it.  She taught me to love others and to be thoughtful to their needs.  She taught me what unconditional, selfless love is.  She has taught me what true unconditional acceptance is.  She has taught me what it's like to have a beautiful, loving, and caring mother, and layed the foundation so I could be the same with my children.  Honestly this is the greatest gift.

I've never met anyone that has loved me the way she has.  Her love knows no limits, is unconditional, always abundant, and always accepting.  I could be a serial killer and she'd still love and support me.  Thankfully I'm not, so she doesn't have to test her love.  ;)  She is a remarkable human being and when I think how blessed I am to have this woman in my life, who is my mother, my heart fills with love and joy.

Happy Birthday, Mom!  I love you so much and give thanks to this great universe for giving me such a wonderful mother.  May the year ahead give you the desires of your heart, good health, more time with us, and the peace you continue to seek.  (sorry my birthday message is a day late, I suppose for me it's on time.)