Smoke and Mirrors

 "There are those who watch the embers burn...and then there are those who start the  fires" ~ TL Alton 

Walking past a window dressed in glitz and swags of metallic grays, I see the reflection looking back. My dimples are rounded out by a face framed in wisps of obsidian, while flashes of silver peek from under my bohemian hat. My ears hear the ricochet of the past greeting me around every corner. With every pounding of my heart, I am a woman whose grief has been shedding for some time.

Stepping forward, I no longer seek you out in the crowd or allow grief to trick me with smoke and mirrors …you are gone. Instead, I allow my spirit to be bathed in melancholy and inhale the joy…for I am chasing the sun. 

The bottle of wine I chose to mark this year ~ Chaos & Harmony

My colours are returning despite the life I lead; its bitter sweetness has given me a chance to take hold of the Christmas season. Full of blessings, I have been gifted with food and shelter. 

Cards full of Blessings, Love & Compassion

 

Wreath my friend Michelle made in remembrance of Shayla and hangs in her home

Surrounded by the Festival of Trees in Victoria, I look over at a child frozen in fear over the sight of jolly St. Nicolas. A part of me wants to take his place; if only to grab hold of the innocence of childhood, snatched from me long ago.

The swirling thoughts in my active mind have me thinking of the masses of homeless that are being exposed to the freezing weather, which has dipped below zero.

I close my eyes and stop to hear my footsteps miles apart, gather momentum to where I am now. The tears shed from the beginning of this year, have been collected into a Jones soda bottle and kept on the invisible shelf of loss. 

When I was living in my car, I bought a soda and the irony of the message was profound!

If earth and the heavens separate me from my beloved daughter; then there is an ocean apart whose surf has not erased the memories… intertwined within my gypsy soul. 

Over time, I have come to understand that it does not matter where my fatigued body settles in for rest, what is important is the one thing eluding me…refuge of the heart.

I am humbled at how I can create the ‘ideal character’ in my book; mold the attributes into his soul and breathe love into his lungs; only to lead a life of solitude.

After many worn journal pages, inked in my insecurities, I understand the space between where I was and how far I've come ­­­­­­~ have been stitched with God’s healing hands. 

It brought me to contemplate how long after my ashes are cast upon this world, my legacy of stringing words will remain suspended; like a cellist playing their four-string musical instrument, my notes will be a footprint in time.

Every blog entry I compose is to an unknown audience… most of who I will never meet or know the impact. This is where the fervour of what I do is poured onto the pages of those receiving the meaning of what I write. 

Recently, I was able to see Chantal Kreviazuk perform with The Victoria Symphony. There was an element of intrigue to Chantal that mesmerizes her audience. While a talented songwriter, she is also a compelling storyteller, who brings those in attendance into her bubble. As she lulled us with her ballads, every word flowed in harmony with the orchestra. I found my centre of attention drift over everyone who was performing and it felt as if my inner core was in some way connected to each person. When Chantal ended the night with an evocative rendition of "Hallelujah”; paying tribute to the song written by the late Canadian singer Leonard Cohen, it was as if all the air had been ingested into her and expelled out, was the exalting sounds of an angel.

Reflecting on 2016, I conquered many fierce battles and out of every storm, when everything settled…there was always something good that was brought forth. I became lighter throughout the months as I found acceptance with those who I grieved for; instead of deleting images, I took delight in remembrance.

One August night, my upward gaze to the heavens had me pick out the brightest star against the scenery of the colossal moon…allowing the memories to saturate the galaxy with my love. 

As I marched on, I let go of the broken ones who required patching up

understanding that in me ~ is not a quest to fix, rather to lead.

Throughout the year, the bandage was ripped off my scars, by those I trusted. Now, at the end… I discovered that although I had been hurt many times; I would certainly heal and Survive.

One storm has come and gone...here comes another one ~ Chantal Kreviazuk

 This Christmas will be different, as all the others have, since my daughter’s passing. However, as I let go of the missing pieces of my life and allow myself to be rebuilt, one thing remains unwavering… 

The Belt of Truth is my Salvation that no one can take away from me.  

By TL Alton