It’s been quite a while since I’ve written in my blog. It’s also been a year unlike any other. Bear with me as this post might be a bit scattered!
When I set out to share Jennifer’s story, I had no idea the impact it would have on others. Since it launched, I have met or heard from many people from various walks of life. Many have watched a loved one go through a medically assisted death, and have reached out to me to thank me for sharing my family’s story. Of these people, most have not had anyone to discuss it with, as the topic is too taboo among friends or family. I have heard from those who witnessed a loved one die a protracted and painful death who wished physician assisted death was available where they reside, so that their loved one might have died peacefully and with dignity. Medical assistance in dying is growing in utilization, and I believe people need to talk about it openly in order to take away the stigma, and to give those who’ve watched a loved one die this way an opportunity to share their stories instead of keeping silent about their experiences.
Four and a half months after Jennifer’s death, we unexpectedly lost our dad to illness. Our family experienced grief layered upon grief and I have to admit, it wasn’t easy. For me, the eternal optimist, my spark gradually dimmed and my love for life faded in the months after Dad’s death, until I finally realized that depression had set in and it was time to do something about it. Thankfully, through counseling and medication, I am back to doing the things I love and feeling a lot better. I know I kind of glossed over that part, but the takeaway is, there is help for grief and depression and people ought to not be ashamed to ask for that help if they need it.
We laid Jennifer to rest in the family plot under a big oak tree on May 28th of this year. We were back there again on October 29th to bury Dad as well. Thankfully, both days were warm and sunny, and the memorial services were light and meaningful. Jennifer’s headstone has been laid – dark grey marble with purple veins in it, and a little turtle engraved on it. The design was approved by Jennifer before she passed. Dad’s stone will be laid in the spring. The graveyard is up on a hill, and is a very peaceful and pleasant place to visit, as cemeteries go.
As for grief, it is truly a weird duck. It sometimes comes in waves that feel overpowering, drowning you and then sometimes, in little ripples that bring a wry smile to your face. As I settled Jennifer’s estate, dealing with bankers and service providers, I could speak of Jennifer with a smile and at length about what she went through. I have done interviews about my book with the CBC, local news, not-so-local news and on podcasts in the US, and have stood before groups of people to tell the story, all without a hitch. Then, there are days when I walk into my office where I have a bookshelf of Jennifer’s pictures and knick knacks in view of my desk, and looking at them can bring a smile or tears, depending on the day. We didn’t really celebrate Christmas last year: my grief was still too raw to consider hosting a family event. This year, I fully looked forward to spending time with mom, my remaining sister, kids and grandkids with a heart fully of hope and joy. I missed that last year! In my office I keep a little turtle accent lamp that belonged to Jennifer and from Christmas Eve through Boxing Day, I left it on. A reminder that she is still in our hearts as we gather together.
Today, I fulfilled my pledge to support the Windsor Hospice with a donation from every print copy sold of Jennifer’s Choice. I did so by sending that donation to the Windsor-Essex VON, the nursing service that took care of Jennifer’s in-home hospice care under the direction of the Windsor Hospice. It just felt right to more directly support those who had cared for and supported Jennifer in the months prior to her death. I had the pleasure of meeting some of these nurses, and they were awesome people who took amazing care of my sister.
A new year is just around the corner, and it brings me hope of better days. It brings the inspiration to do more with my life and the time I have left. The past year has proven that one never knows when their time on earth will come to an end. I hope that as you consider the new year, that you might purpose to live your life meaningfully, work on your bucket list, and learn to be happy and be true to yourself. Happy New Year!
