Part 2: The Gift of Enough

As you recall from A Gift From Grace, Part I, my desire was to be a support for Grace and all involved during her transition. 

The day of Grace’s passing my intuition suggested making soup. The day following I was invited to help with writing her obituary. I was honored to be a part of that process. And I had soup!

Grace and Sean’s kitchen table faces the lake. I was sitting in the seat facing the window, Sean to my left and Sue to my right at the table heads. We were deep in openhearted discussion when a heron flew by. I pointed it out in time for all three of us to witness. I suggested it being a sign from Grace. It felt like she was letting us know she is okay and free of pain. 

Maybe I saw it as a sign, in part, because of a sign we received from Doug the day after his funeral. We gathered at the lake. I was walking up to the house when I thought I heard a duck. It had been years since I had noticed mallards near our waterfront—loons yes, mallards no. I mentioned thinking I had heard a duck to my daughter. She had even seen it. 

A month prior to Doug's passing he found a duck in the fireplace in our MA house which is not on a lake. Somehow it fell down the chimney. He took a photo of it before letting it go because he said no one would believe it. He named it Dusty.

A week following the services someone Doug used to play hockey with called to express his condolences. He had seen the obituary in the paper but not in time to attend the services. I commented on his name being Doug also. He shared how there were other guys with the same names on the team, 2 Dougs, 2 Mikes, 2 Joes, so they all had nicknames. Doug’s was the Duck. “What?!?” I thought. I’m not sure I knew that. This Doug explained that my Doug got the name from being the goalie and on the short side. There was a tall player who tended to hit high slapshots. Doug was known to duck. 

During his first year on the other side, I’d sometimes hear a duck when taking the pups out late at night for their last hurrah. Ducks are not nocturnal. Periodically I’d see one or two meander by in the morning while having coffee. Again, I hadn’t noticed mallards in our area in years. I came home to one napping on my dock one day. When we got a new dock, that first evening I captured two mallards hopping up onto it as if to offer their approval. These encounters were such a source of comfort for me.

Back to Grace…

The morning following our gathering for Grace's obituary I was up early. I went down to the water with my coffee. As I sat there, thinking about her, a heron emerged from the fog, gracing me with its presence. This time I had my camera with me. 

These experiences inspired me to write a little tribute to Grace for my FB page. I asked for Sean’s approval out of courtesy (He gave me his and Grace's blessings to write this as well). I wrestled with posting it too. It’s a tender time. Is this appropriate? My desire is to be a support. I felt I was getting the go-ahead from my higher self also, and I know that with intuition the logic comes later, so I posted it.

This is what I wrote.

“I felt a pull to have my coffee closer to the water today. 

When there is an eagle about the loons will sound their distress call to let everyone know. A heron gracefully and silently flew by. With the heron all remained calm—not a peep out of the loons. The heron's wingspan is about the same as the eagle's. So fascinating.

My friend, Grace, passed away this weekend. We gathered in her name yesterday. A heron silently, gracefully and unassumingly flew by during our conversation. This morning I was thinking about her when I saw the heron. This time I got a photo. 

Since I don't see herons very often, I'd like to think that Grace is letting us know she's at peace. 

"The symbolism of the heron varies by culture. It represents strength, purity and long life in China. In Native American tradition the heron symbolizes wisdom and good judgment. In ancient Egypt the heron was a symbol of creation while in Africa and Greece the heron was a messenger of the gods." ~Tom Hutton MD

Initially "long life" hit me funny because, like Doug, Grace was in her early 60's. But then I remembered that birth is the opposite of death, not life. Life is eternal. 

Rest easy, dear Grace.”

Sean asked me to share these words as an acknowledgment/obituary for our private community so I did a little tweaking for that purpose. Funny how things come together.

This past spring, when I was working on my photo book, “Lake Life Chronicles: Eagles, Herons & Loons,” I shared my draft with Sean. When he got to a photo of a heron in a tree with two people in a tandem kayak off in the distance, he said, “That’s me and Grace!” They had traded this kayak for 2 singles years back so I hadn’t recognized it. Sean, Grace, and a heron in the same photo, taken 10 years before and me thinking to show my draft to Sean. How interesting. 

If you know me, you know I enjoy connecting dots and am always in awe when I follow my higher self’s guidance. 

The week of the one-year anniversary of Grace’s transition, I was heading out to do some errands. When starting my car I noticed a large bird landing on a nearby dock. I ran back to the house, grabbed my camera, tiptoed closer, hoping the sound of my car’s engine would help camouflage me. It was a heron and I was able to snap a photo before it sensed my presence and flew off. My intention was to go kayaking when I got back in hopes of seeing it again and possibly spending some time with it in Grace's honor.

When I returned from my errand my dogs were itching to go out so I leashed them up for a walk. I ran into Sean and we walked for a bit together. He shared how a year ago, that day, was the day Grace had been admitted to the hospital. I shared seeing a heron. Impeccable timing. When I got back from my walk the heron was on my dock. I guess I didn’t need to go kayaking. Fortunately my pups had not caught wind of it. I whisked them into the house and grabbed my camera.

I hid behind some tall phlox where I could get a closer look and capture a couple photos. Eventually it saw me and flew onto a nearby jetty of rocks where it could be more camouflaged. I was able to quietly go down to the dock and be with it for a couple minutes before it took flight. How interesting that we had just been reminiscing about Grace’s last few days.

Following the anniversary of Grace’s passing and a small group of us gathering in remembrance, Sue spotted a heron perched on a boat. Sean happened to be walking by shortly after this sighting. Sue brought it to his attention, and he witnessed it preening on a nearby raft. A heron needs to be comfortable to preen in your presence. I’d like to receive these visitations as our loved ones continuing to love us from the other side. Our thoughts, actions and the eternalness of life feel acknowledged. All I can say for sure is, you can’t make these synchronicities happen, and they are comforting.

In re-reading my tribute from a year ago, the adverbs, silently, gracefully and unassumingly so perfectly describe Grace. She was such a gentle soul. She loved her people and they loved her. She always had a smile on her face. She never wanted anyone to suffer. She did her best to protect her loved ones and remained on this planet as long as she could for them.

I did end up having my “Lake Life Chronicles” book professionally printed so if you have a copy or intend to purchase one, you have a little backstory. The flying heron in the fog is the one I saw while having my morning coffee and the heron in the tree with the loon with winter plumage was the one present that morning when Grace and Sean were kayaking. Although the original photo with the kayak is not in the finished book, a clearer photo of that same heron is. The photo with Grace and Sean in the kayak with the heron is proudly displayed at Sean’s. 

I shared this story with my dear friend, Bree. She simply and eloquently captured its essence with these words, “Showing up as yourself is the gift you give to the world.” 

I hope you enjoyed hearing my story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It really is the picture of how, when your desire is pure, showing up as yourself is enough. That's a big takeaway. 

Thank you Grace. Thank you for being a messenger, Great Blue Heron. And thanks for your input, Bree.

Friends in this Love,

Trish