Skip to main content

Triggers

Later today (as I write this), Sam and I are going to have lunch with one of our favourite people in the world. Someone I haven’t seen for a long time but someone who sure meant a lot to us while Sofia was in Children’s Hospital. Yesterday when plans were being firmed up, Sam asked on behalf of our lunch partner if the visit might be a trigger for me. Knowing I wasn’t feeling too good, it was an extremely kind and considerate thing to ask. But, in that moment, I just kind of laughed to myself and simply said “No…can’t wait to see her”. There’s no doubt the lunch will trigger so many emotions for me. But I have triggers with every step I take every single day. When you love someone as much as we loved Sofia, “triggers” or more appropriately, memories, are everywhere. 

When my mom was alive she would knit these amazing blankets for kids. She knit some for Jacob, Kaitlynn, Carter and many of our friends’ kids as well. Sofia would be born a couple years after my mom passed away so she didn't have one of her own. But still, Sofia's favourite blanket would be one of those blankets my mom had made for Carter over 6 years ago. Sofia would call it her “pop it blanket”. It had large loops that would allow her to pop her fingers through it. It was one of the few required items for every hospital trip and an absolute must for Sofia to sleep with every night. Her final rest would be with this blanket too. For nearly every night since Sofia hasn’t been alive to hold her blanket tight at night, I do it for her. I bring it with me to bed just as she would. There’s no bigger “trigger” for me and yet I embrace it each and every night. 

The reality is I see Sofia in nearly everything. The things you might expect like walking into her bedroom, pictures and videos of her or in places we’d frequently visit together. But I see and feel Sofia in things you might not expect too. In the odd shapes a cloud might make or the beautiful colours that reflect upon it during a fleeting sunset. I feel her deeply with the melodic sounds of the birds that chirp each morning at our house; sounds I oddly don’t recall hearing before. These moments do surface a lot of pain, of course. But the joy, happiness, laughter and love easily exceed the pain. So rather than spend my days trying to avoid these triggers, I tend to run towards them instead. I’ll gladly accept a bit of pain to feel her with me again; even if just for that ever so brief moment. 

A few pictures of Sofia and the blanket. Apparently she also loved those green PJs :) 









Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hope in Every Spot

Even in the earliest days of Sofia being sick, it was clear to me that I needed to do more with my own time on earth.  As I spent more days at Children's Hospital, that feeling only grew stronger. I saw incredible people selflessly volunteering their time for kids and families they had never met, and I knew I wanted to do the same. A pet therapy program where people volunteer their time to bring their dogs to the hospital to provide some much needed comfort to kids (and their parents) Therapy clowns named Fizzie and Cosmo would visit a couple days a week. They could make Sofia laugh like no one else The Child Life volunteers, often teenagers and young adults, volunteered their time to play with the kids in hospital or their siblings. Carter must have done at least 100 scavenger hunts with these incredible people Smoothie Sundays where volunteers from West Coast Kids Cancer Foundation would whip up super tasty smoothies in the T8 kitchen for patients, family members and staff I...
Post a Comment
Read more

Taking a break

For years, I’ve felt as though I’m drifting down a river. Sometimes it's a very enjoyable ride, the gentle rapids even offering a subtle, soothing bounce. Other times, the current becomes a relentless force, rocketing me through the fiercest of waters, my kayak constantly threatening to capsize. Even in those most threatening situations though, I’ve always managed to steady myself. But the ride down the river never stops. It’s an unending drift, and the longer I float, the stronger my desire grows to find a way to stop it —if only for a moment. I’ve long wished to press pause on life, to step away from the daily noise and immerse myself in a different environment for a while. I've felt that if I could step away for a bit, I could properly reflect on the life I’ve lived so far and what the future could hold if I approached it with newfound clarity and intention. And, more recently, I've craved an opportunity to find space and time to heal and rebuild myself. Samantha spent ...
3 comments
Read more

Our Retreat to Mazatlan, Challenges and Finding Purpose

It's taken me so long to write this. In fact, it's been over two months since I last wrote anything. Writing has always been therapeutic for me, and I certainly have a lot to say. However, I've come to realize that writing about what's on my mind is often the final step in my process of moving forward. I can't seem to put my thoughts into words until I'm relatively certain I'm ready to release whatever has been lingering in my mind. While my time away with Samantha and Carter brought us so much good, it also challenged me in unexpected ways. Recently, I’ve struggled to find my way out of a valley of grief and depression, which explains the long delay in writing. Even though I still have work to do, I feel like I’m starting to show signs of improvement. I'm hopeful that putting some of this into words will help push me further toward optimism and healing. Samantha, Carter, and I left for Mexico on November 5th and returned to Canada on January 18th—75 day...
3 comments
Read more