Showing posts with label tribute. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tribute. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Birthday Tribute: Letter to My Dead Twin (Part 3)


Dear Luisa or what name I should know you by,

I hope I am spelling your name right! [For you readers, see why on my post from yesterday.]

Please know that I love you and have loved you, even though I didn’t know you, as long as I can remember, at least, after I found out about you. You probably know that already as the other things I am about to tell you. However, I wish to express what is upon my heart at this time.

I used to be SO angry - with sadness underneath all that anger - at God and for quite some time, demanding answers: Why did YOU die and me live? Why couldn’t I die and you live? Why couldn’t we BOTH die or both live?

As I was growing up, I often felt something was missing, but I never knew what it was. As a child growing up, I would feed this “hole in the soul” as author and former alcoholic, John Bradshaw terms it.

My relationship with food, I believe, was primarily to numb my feelings, to dampen my feelings of sadness, sometimes so intense, due to the pain of a sense of loss. And I feel there is tons of sadness, layers and layers of it.

I don’t recall having an ah-ha, this-is-it moment when my Mom informed me of your death, connecting it with feelings of emptiness that I felt a lot thus far. I doubt it, as I don’t even recall the conversation.

I desired to feel your presence or to see you even as some people do…some who can see spirits and angels. However, I never did and I wondered why not. It made me real sad. Why couldn’t I at least sense you around me?

I rarely spoke with you as if you were in the room though and I can’t even tell you why, other than perhaps because I didn’t see or feel you energetically. I felt guilty about that, thinking I was supposed to… if I didn’t, well, it might mean that I didn’t care about you or didn’t love you, enough.

I used to wonder what it would have been like to be playmates as children and even as adults, like to play pranks or tricks on people. For example, maybe swapping a date with our boyfriends. I think it could have been a lot of fun! ;)

And I also wondered if you and I would look alike and how much so so we could pull such stunts and pranks on people in the first place! ;)

And by the way, I would really like to know: Are you the one that puts heart shapes in my path so that I see them and think of you? It happened so innocently and spontaneously until I discovered in hindsight that I had a heart collection, I mean heart-shaped collection of items.

I later became aware of them over the years when I would see it especially in nature such as stones or even leaves or trees, and so many things like in my kitchen or elsewhere! ;)

Was that you whispering to me, letting me know of your presence? Was that a symbol of your love for me? Was that the reason why my inspired poem entitled
"You"
came to mind, because it was about reflection, and being a twin is like that.

Did you happen to know dear twin, that a perfect heart shape is made up of two perfect halves, like a twin?

Will I ever hear or know the answers to all these questions and more that I have been thinking of over the years?

Will it even matter when I see you, when we meet beyond this realm? Will I be able to embrace you and will I weep all my pent-up tears over all these years as I feel them now running down my cheeks, or will we kiss and hug each other in joy and laughter?

Oh God, how hard it is to be a surviving twin...at times. I know I am strong, but sometimes it’s so tough. It’s tough to be alone as I feel so often in life. So many people do not see me, the real me, not know me or understand me.

That is why I have looked for you, looked for you everywhere, searched for your presence everywhere in others. Occasionally I would meet someone who would symbolically represent you, usually in a workshop of which I have taken many to uncover and unearth the layers of emotions, especially anger and sadness that I have felt most of my life.

I no longer cry as much since my cycle ended and sometimes I wish just for that reason, and that reason alone that it didn’t stop just yet. It’s so healing and cleansing to cry.

Just remember this please, that no matter what happens I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here, here with me, here to hold my hand, here to give me a hug, here to share joy and tears and laughter.

May you, wherever you are, be at peace, at peace in your heart and soul...till we meet, and then may I join you and feel that too.

Love you dear twin, love you sis. <3 Namaste. Now your turn: have you ever written a letter to a dead relative as if they were alive? How did you find the experience?

Friday, January 24, 2014

An Angel in Boots: Tribute to a Life-Saving Hero

There are times when art imitates life, at times subtly or indirectly, other times directly. Such a moment occurred as I read a passage of a book today, in part about families or friends who risk their lives to save others, and gratitude for them, never to be forgotten. I am reminded of the parallelism in life this week on that very subject, i.e., that of the sudden and unexpected death of a local and eminent hero, Tim Jones.

It was with a saddened heart that I entered my workplace Monday morning having heard the news Sunday evening online: a long-time and well-known, fearless member of the North Shore Search and Rescue team. His name and face splashed the media pages over the years, especially the local papers where I too live.

I said a brief prayer and fervently hoped that ‘they’ were mistaken, that in fact Tim Jones was actually in a coma (temporarily please) or experiencing a NDE (near death experience) and would return back to life, to normal, to us, to our community. After all, how could we live, as a community, without him?

I felt guided/strongly compelled to write an editorial letter thinking that of all the letters the newspaper would likely receive, mine would be passed over. After all, who am I but a member of the general public, insignificant and unknown, compared to his family, team, and those he helped save.

Surprisingly enough, my letter to the editor – with some slight tweaking – actually appeared in today’s local Province newspaper: “
I was shocked and deeply saddened to hear the loss of Tim Jones, the devoted leader of North Shore Rescue. How could you not know him? He was featured numerous times in the media. I hope that the team will be able to fill his big boots. Heart-felt condolences to the team, his family, friends, and community."
My heart wrote that. And this week as I read the various news articles, my eyes still shedding drops – they would now on paper except that I am typing – of unbelief, of loss, of deep and utter respect for this man whom I knew nothing about other than the fact that he saved countless lives.

I had wondered in past, what would draw such men – volunteers! – not even paid for their life-saving services (in many cases extreme) – to rescue others. The only reason that I could fathom is that it would require such a profound and compelling love and passion for the work and/or for people. One of Tim Jones’ comments in past was a testament to that.

My heart understands this reasoning. And I think it is because of that that my heart and soul is moved to pay tribute to this man whom I admire and love as a fellow human being, and as an angel, a former earth* angel, an angel in disguise. An angel, in hiking boots.

How are you or how can you be a ‘hero’ or ‘angel’ to others?

*See posting re Earth Angels, Dec. 14. 2011. If you copy and paste this manually into your browser/search engine it will work: http://xpressyouressence.blogspot.ca/2011/12/calling-all-angels-earth-angels-that-is.html