Down to the River ...

Anyone who knows me professionally would not be surprised to hear that my healing place is at the confluence of the Nechako and Fraser River. I love to go there and wade into the freezing water, picking rocks and contemplating life. I had to opportunity to speak at one of the Lakeland Mills funeral and there I suggested a healing ritual. While the words were lost on one of the workers, who asked, "Who the f*&k was the guy who talked about the stupid rocks?" the ritual has served me well. The first suggestion is to just go down there and sit, watching the water move past you. I find it difficult not to notice the weather, and all the changes that are constantly impacting the river channels. Some days I select rocks to keep, and other days I hold tight to a rock while I connect with my frustration or struggles. I then yell as loud as I can and throw the rock back into the river. There have been days when I visit the river daily, and other times in my life when weeks pass without a visit.

That is where I found myself a few days into the box building. The design that I had chosen was similar to the first box I build, my grandmother's. The box was tapered and I was looking for a centre piece board. I remembered having collected several wide boards that I had kept in my carport roof. For those of you who don't know, my house burnt down at the end of January. One of the only salvageable things were these boards, however many of them were scorched by the flames. The board I selected was 10 inches wide and seemed perfect to become the centre piece of the box. The only issue is that this board also symbolized another significant loss for me. I felt it needed to be cleansed of that negative energey so that it would be free to contain the grief I had for Baxter.

I asked one of Baxter's friends, Adam, if he wanted to help me engage in this cleansing ritual. We drove down Patricia road and parked at the end, knowing we would have the opportunity to have a discussion while we walked down to the river. I explained to Adam my need to cleanse this board and suggested that we use the principle of see one, do one, teach one. I rolled up my jeans, took off my shoes and socks and waded into the river, washing the board. Adam then followed suit. I then stuck the board in a root  and allowed the water to flow around the board. Adam was reminded about the raft trip that Baxter had talked about. I floated the board down the river to him where he caught it. I suggested that I would give him some time alone to spend with the board, and suggested that he listen to his intuition and do what seems natural. He emptied his pockets and threw the contents on the river shore and sat down in the water.

I sat back and then went about my job of selecting a rock to throw into the river. When I picked up the first rock, I was filled with so much gratitude in the moment, I had to slip it into my pocket. It was only a while later that my thoughts shifted to some of the frustrations I was experiencing in the moment. I then shared with Adam the above ritual and threw this rock with all my strength. I then reached into my pocket and explained to him my feelings of gratitude as I had watched him in the river, so playful and how through him, I had felt connected to Baxter. I gave him this first rock and we walked back to the car. When we arrived, he realized he had forgotten his keys, so we went back down to the river.

By this time, a hippie girl had set up her things around the spot we had been hanging out. She was playing with her hula hoop, and her hyperactive dog. We searched the beach, getting closer and closer to her personal space. She then asked us why we were there, and what we were looking for … I brushed her off, suggesting that she didn't need to know the reason of our visit. It would wreck her day. She continued to push and after the third request, the only words I could get out is that my 22 year old son had died. I choked back the tears, but was also thinking about the song she was playing on her IPOD. I asked Adam if that song had any meaning for him, and he suggested that he was reflecting on Baxter singing the song a few weeks previously. Both our hearts were filled with gratitude as we walked back to the car. I realized that even in the darkest hour of my grief, I could open my heart, and experience significant connections with Baxter, both individually and through his amazing friends.