Somewhere Beyond

Let’s open the door to your soul-house and get to work on the most beautiful restoration project you could ever imagine ~ Melody Brave Living 

Most of us have dealt with some kind of monolith in our lives. Whether a massive fragment that proves to be a stumbling block or as a monumental presence to declare I have overcome; these stones serve as reminders that we exist. 

Last weekend, as I sat in Bethel Church in Penticton, my highly charged emotions were being quelled by an unseen presence. As a result, I was able to intake each personalized message of those who came to remember, honour and pay respects to a young man… whose life ended at 22 years in a car crash. 

As those gathered, it soon became apparent how deeply loved Eythan was. Between the funeral service and Celebration of Life, an estimated 750 people attended. Sitting in my seat, my hands folded in prayer, I was able to keep myself together. That was until two songs directly connected to my own daughter -- were played back to back. The tears swelling in the corners of my eyes collected, until I released them, onto my bereaved soul. Before leaving the church, I made my way to the front of Eythan’s memorial. Amongst his ashes was a weathered baseball glove, a worn pair of shoes, an assortment of photographs emitting a passion for life and his guitar. Finally on either side intermingled within the cascading arrangement of flowers, were two hockey sticks. I gazed upon the frayed curved wooden blades and imagined the ice time they had seen and countless scores they had made. In an instant, I was reminded of others lamenting the immeasurable loss of their own, in the heartbreaking Humboldt Bronco’s crash. 

As I walked out into a day brimming with bluest skies and wisps of silver clouds, I extended my prayers… to those who death has impaled their grieving hearts with such tremendous sorrow. 

I felt my time visiting, in a place I once lived many years ago, would soon come to an end. I no longer sensed a promise of new beginnings in Penticton. My choice to continue to stay with my best friend who was mourning, extracted out of me my own feelings of despair. As a mother whose child has died and my experiences being a Grief Facilitator, I understand the role pain has when someone dies;  there is a void crushing emptiness that can add to the many layers of bereavement. When after the relatives along with friends have left and the silence creeps in, a person is left to muddle through their own journey of loss – with more monoliths to deal with, along the way. The churn of sentiments can be tinged with acrimony; as grief takes every ounce of anger and like a ticking bomb, can explode without warning. 

While back in the Okanagan Valley, I took comfort in my Bible. I was not looking for answers, rather of reassurance knowing that Eythan who was a Christian, had come home…In God’s Care. 

I shared verses with my dear friend Sherry. Over the time spent with her, we prayed endlessly. When she began to cry, I wrapped my arms around her with my love and passages of scripture. When she could not sleep, I held on and let His word be a veil of calmness to her.

Before I boarded a Greyhound bus to reconnect with my own family, I gave hugs to a treasured friend, whose gentle heart struggled with sadness…forever changed by the sudden passing of her beloved nephew. 

Once the bus traveled through places that were splinters of my compartmentalized life, recollections swiftly came onward. Having lived thirty years in the Okanagan, I would be hard pressed not to find a place where once a memory had been made.

Departing from my journey, with feet firmly planted upon His rock, I re-entered the lives of my mother and brother. Many years had gone by since last seeing them, yet forgiveness is a powerful entity and one much needed between all of us. My time spent was filtered with recollections, dampened with old regrets and saturated in rekindling. I have realized that one cannot take the grains of time gone by and insert them into the present, as there is no purpose to mourn over empty graves. Rather, I embraced the newfound moments of rejoicing in simply being a part of their world again. 

My next connection was with my friend TJ. While she has worn many hats, the ones she wears now can be found on display in her two stores located in Armstrong, BC and Salmon Arm, BC (where I grew up). As I ventured into both Silhouette Fashion Boutiques, I can say they provided another reason for me to complete my novel Under the Sitka Tree…in order to purchase the many clothes I have fallen in love with. I have seen firsthand the devotion TJ puts into the business and her website. As a former employee, I know what she offers to women of all shapes and sizes, a genuine care that is harder to find in box retail clothing stores. 

Before I departed from Victoria, I had made a special request to TJ. I asked to return to my daughter’s Memorial Bench overlooking Okanagan Lake. My friend did not hesitate and soon we were driving around McKinley Reservoir—the place of Shayla’s demise. Once at the bench, I placed several, small mementos. 

TJ Wallis at Shayla's Memorial Bench

While taking photos, I noticed a lovely, gray, picnic table. As I walked to it, I paused to read the names in memory of Fred & Anne Paine. This beautiful addition to the area now provides more than remembrance—it is a place to gather and share in time well spent-- to sit amongst the footprints of those who have come before you. 

Once we had left, my thoughts wandered to December 12th and as my friend drove upon the road that my daughter had changed, I began to choke up. It is natural instinct for me to recall that Shayla was only 1 minute away to safety on the main road, when she passed away. What helped me from giving into a grief outburst, was the reality that those who  now drive on that section, do so because a life was taken for it. Nearly six years later, there is a deepened appreciation for the healing path I have undergone. Never doubting my faith, I have reconciled with the past and been graced by God giving me an insight into the afterlife. 

While I log on the miles to various places, my past zigzags with my present and collides along the way with snapshots of my old existence. I am humbled by how far I have come; no longer ashamed of a past riddled in strife, I see the means that I AM responsible. After all, I am the one who has to live with the recourse of my decisions, grow with them and seek a better future for myself. 

Another dear friend of mine, Leanna, has been encouraging along the way. 

Leanna and myself on the day I left the Island

Recently, she shared with me the following verses that are specific to me. 

It is God who arms Tonya with strength and keeps her way secure. He makes Tonya’s feet like the feet of a deer; He causes her to stand on the heights. He trains her hands for battle; her arms can bend a bow of bronze. You make your saving help Tonya’s shield and your right hand sustains her; your help has made her great. You provide a broad path for Tonya’s feet, so that her ankles do not give way. Psalm 18:32-36 NIV

My work search has now gone beyond the realm of the Island I once resided on…I have taken all of the valuable skills and life experiences, shining light upon all I have to offer. 

I will not give up on finding security in this world; for I understand that a life worth living is:  characterized by faithful work, loving deeds, and enduring hope. 

When we clasp our hands around things, waiting to let go until they make sense, our hands are too full and cannot be open to the things that are waiting for us. 

~Brave Living

By TL Alton