Letting the light in.
Remebering Ula as the darkness continues to approach. We help to usher in the light with candles. So many festivals of light to bring in the new season, the holidays, and the new year.
I am forever grateful for the company that keeps me going. Quietly and compassionately at my side. In presence and in mind. The messages and hugs. It all helps.
I am not alone in my grief. This I have always understood. I share it openly. Although some is mine alone. As her mama this will always be a separate course. Our love forever intertwined and connected on all planes forever more.
Light plays a part in the darkness. And without the dark there would be no need for light. We need opposing forces. But holding the balance is key.
As we move further away from the equinox and into this winter’s solstice, I am reminded yet again of that delicate balance. Those days with equal light long gone, replaced by darkness and cold. A time of death.
My daughter died during this shift. A lack of balance between those short days and long nights. Where the night stole her from me. That darkness that took her to the eternal light of some other worldly dimension. A space experiences by few to return from.
She lost her footing on this tight rope we call life. As did I. Balancing too much; a constant juggling act that had me dropping balls. I remember the shift. When I felt things were no longer in my control. When I was scrambling to pick up the balls. To regain my footing and return to some semblance of balance.
But those forces were stronger than I would ever imagine. How could I defy fate when the cards were continuing to be stacked against us. We looked for help, some beacon to guide us through those treacherous dark waters. Distant sparks would help us navigate, but it wasn’t enough to keep her here.
To keep her home that night. In the warm light of our home and under those twinkling lights of our Christmas tree. Where we kept the light on. The light was always left on for her.
Yesterday marked Worldwide Candle Lighting. Last night we lit candles around the world to create a global wave of light in remembrance of children gone too soon.
Saturday at dusk we lit candles for Ula. A second vigil at the spot where her last light shone. To remember her and honour her and to pay respect to a girl gone too soon.
May we always remember her. And think on these children stripped from their mama’s arms against the natural order of things.
I am so very grateful for those standing with me and by through all of this madness. And I’m thankful I can stand by those who need me too in these moments of love and light.
Grief is not always a lonely road. And in these times of sharing and reconnecting, I appreciate all that we have become, how we are all managing forward and through, in spite of losing her. And that we keep lighting those flames and remembering. And living.
Let’s light some more candles tonight. As we approach the darkest night. And wait for the light to return.
Keep on shining my beatuful girl. You are so loved. Always full of light and forever in our hearts.
LLU🕯️
15 December 2024:
A thing happened last night under the full moon of a Toronto sky. As the sunset the people gathered. The frosty evening air set in and we all huddled together holding candles to honour and remember my beautful girl. Ula.
Her friends and family and community gathered to mark the year of losing her and our last goodbyes. A different kind of goodbye last night. One to mark the spot where she last lay. Where she died on a dark rainy night hidden in plain sight.
We lay photos and tokens and flowers and candles underneath the awning of the small apartment building where they found her. It was our first time in that space. That small corner of rocks tucked away behind hedges. A little nook. Her last little nook.
This part of the journey is over. A full year and rotation of the sun has concluded. We’ve marked the first year of mourning and remember our girl as we light candles for her. A friend would pass by later after we all left and would lay a yarzeit candle for her.
Her friend would sing and we released our black balloons into the night to say our goodbyes. Some would get caught in the bare branches of tree above. Fitting. Like our tangled sadness and grief struggling to find a home. But the wind eventually pushes them out to float into the dark cold sky.
A long goodbye this year. But a necessary one. She impacted so many and our grief complex and interconnected. We have our own stories and collective memories of a beloved daughter, sister, neice, cousin, granddaughter, and friend.
A purple chair chained to the post near her spot. To tell the those passerbys the story of my girl. To tell them that a sixteen year old girl died in front of them. That there is an epedemic on our hands that is killing our children. Our beautiful and cherished children.
Our work is just starting. With the mourning period ending we move through our loss to channel our energy into activism and art. Youth and caregiver voices essential to our cause. We will find away to make change. Ula Will not die in vain and her story will continue. As was her way.
She should still be here.
LLU🕯️
https://www.longliveula.com/