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| << April09, 2007 - Special Edition of Storytime Tapestry - Correction |
April10, 2007 - All About Dreams - A Martha Jette Column >> |
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Storytime Tapestry Newsletter The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural
awareness throughout the world. Special Treat – Ellie Braun Haley Each of us have suffered the loss of a loved and as others close to us walk
similar paths we ache for them and look for ways to help. With that in mind, I
am sharing something with you which may be of interest to you for yourself or
for a family member.
THE ONE-LINER KID By Ellie Braun-Haley “Stop mom, don’t do it. There’s a car beside us!” I was about to change lanes on a busy highway when my son called out the warning. I looked over my left shoulder and sure enough, in my blind spot, a vehicle already held the space I had intended to move into. I was grateful for Jason’s quick thinking and succinct warning. As I look back over Jason’s formative years I find myself smiling. He had an innate understanding of humans and he constantly amazed me with his sense of timing to deliver the right words at just the right time. His sisters were 7 and 12 years old when he arrived on the scene and I thought I was an old hand at child rearing, but Jason came with a guarantee, to teach each of us something new, or at the very least to consider new ways to look at life. During those growing up years Jason came up with lines that were show-stoppers. I recall the afternoon he and his girlfriend sat me down to inform me of their decision regarding sex. “Regarding sex mom, well we’ve decided we’re waiting until after we’re married.” He could make me laugh at his antics and had the ability to get across the neatest lessons even without words. I look back at one particular memory and smile at how I tried to reprimand him and control my anger. Jason had been bouncing his soccer ball off the walls and the neighbor had already mentioned it was irritating her. Despite my earlier request to stop, he was back at it again; maybe he wanted to see how far he could push. Quite irritated with him, I began shouting. He grinned at me, which further fueled my anger. Then he walked over and picked me up. My skinny kid was now a dashing 6-foot 2-inches tall, muscular, athlete. He had a winning smile and I think God sent him with an extra helping of human kindness. I couldn’t escape his embrace, and exasperated I tried to continue my lecture but the negative emotions were suddenly being overridden. It was at that moment, a “Kodak” moment, that I pondered this question, “What happens to anger as it collides with the human touch?” My exasperation and frustrations had evaporated as he teasingly held me. I could feel his love for me. And at that moment I was seeing things through his eyes. I laughed appreciating his goofy sense of humor, fully seeing the strong power one falls under with the sense of touch. I was definitely on the receiving end of another lesson from my son with the yellow Hoodie incident.. I’d been given a yellow sweatshirt (referred to as a hoodie) by the staff at Camille School. This was the Catholic Separate school across the street from the public school, Lindsay Thurber, attended by Jason. I’d taught some dance classes for the Catholic school and the new jacket was their thank you gift. As soon as Jason saw the hoodie, he said, “I hope you’re not planning on wearing that mom!” Did I mention that it featured the rival school’s football team name and logo? I responded with, “I don’t know why not, it’s new and nice looking.” A few days later I arrived home to find Jason wearing the hoodie. I was surprised and asked, “Surely you didn’t wear that to school today, did you?” “Yes,” he replied, “I did.” “Oh my goodness,” I said, “What happened?” ”Well, “ he responded calmly, “they threw me up against the lockers and called me names.” I commented, “Oh Jason, I guess you won’t be doing that again!” “Yes I will” he promised. “Why not mom, it builds character!” The day Jason was to compete in a track and field competition he hugged me just before he left. It was to be our last hug. Just an hour later, he lost control of his car and within minutes he was dead. After his death trying to find balance, meaning and comfort was a slow, arduous and complex process. Five years passed. Out of the blue one day, the pain of missing my son was suddenly so sharp I broke down, sobbing. Between huge gulps I spoke to God in prayer, begging Him to give me a dream where I could once more see my tall, beautiful, blond-haired son. I pleaded. I begged. I cried. “It is very easy for you God. This is so simple. Please, please give me this dream. I miss him so much. All I ask for is a hug. That’s easy for you, just one hug in a dream.” I cried on and begged as if my life depended upon this one thing. In those five years since his death I had dreams every night, but not once was Jason in any dream. I ached with a mother’s heart, yearning to see my son, to hold him, if only in a dream. God answered my prayers, I indeed got my dream. Strangely though in my dream, Jason was much younger – he might have been seven years old. In the dream I was chastising him for something he had done. I told him, ”Don’t do that. Do you want to get killed?” He looked at me, then Jason spoke the most compelling words he ever uttered, “But mom, death isn’t forever.” I awoke and immediately felt upset I’d not received my hug. Then as I became more fully awake, it dawned on me I’d just been given something far better. My son had given me another significant one-liner, in a unique way. His words filled me with hope and reassurance for tomorrow. Even after death, this son of mine was giving another lesson, one that left me feeling more than hugged – “Death Isn’t forever.” — © By Ellie Braun-Haley Ellie is the author of four books and is working on her fifth. She has short stories published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, CONSCIOUS WOMEN, Heartwarmers of Spirit and 2theHeart and has been published in well over 26 e-zines. To see more pictures of Jason and learn more about his life, please visit his memorial page at: http://www.egogahan.com/Memorials/Jason/Jason.html TO UNDERSTAND MORE ABOUT THE PROJECT BEING UNDERTAKEN by Karen Haffey. Read a bit below and go to her websiteCollecting Loss: Weaving Threads of Memory is a community-based art project about gathering and sharing stories that exist through the clothing of our loved ones who have died. With contributions of clothing and stories from people of all walks of life, origins, and having experienced the deaths of siblings, spouses, friends, colleagues, and other loved ones, threads of memory will be woven together. Contributions will become part of an exploration of what happens when individual pieces of cloth and story form a collective fabric. Collections are commonly for nice things, pleasant things, things we enjoy looking at and having around, while loss brings to mind leaving behind, emptiness, absence where there once was presence. Why would anyone collect loss? Why the clothing of our loved ones? Because...• Clothing captures moments in time, holds nostalgic reminders of smells, sights, sounds, and bodies that can evoke a range of responses. • Clothing can act as a reminder of memories that were once so rich and vivid, and over time have faded. • Clothing, like memory, suggests impermanence. It is delicate, wears thin, fades, stains, and can disintegrate, thread by thread. • Clothing no longer occupied by a body, like memory over time, can hold stories that are never told before disappearing. Collecting Loss will tell some of these stories. It will become a living, breathing public memorial that heals, educates and stimulates dialogue around the often private experience of losing a loved one. RationaleGrief is experienced within a social context. The death of someone can be life-changing and profoundly altering. Yet, an event of such magnitude is given no place for discussion and elaboration in modern media and life. Bereaved people often end up grieving in silence and isolation. The idea of collecting loss grows out of a desire and recognized need to: • Preserve and honour memories; • Provide a visual and verbal gathering place for grief; • Explore change by weaving individual threads of cloth and story into shared fabric; • Offer healing, education and stimulation of dialogue around death of a loved one. Process1 Clothing and stories will be collected from loved ones. Clothes will be photographed individually and stories catalogued. 2 When enough clothing is collected, it will be cut into pieces. New articles of clothing will be formed and sewn together with individual pieces. The intention is to create 'new' articles of clothing as a metaphor for the transformation of loss. The clothing changes shape and adopts new forms. As well, these 'new' clothes are examples of the threads that hold all our loved ones' clothing together, suggesting we are not alone with our grief. 3 Concurrently, individual stories will be worked with to distill common themes. In written and recorded form stories will be shaped to accompany the visual narrative. The intention is to create audio and written pieces that will integrate with photographic images and clothing, giving voice to the living, the dead, grief and memories, animating the photographic images and clothing. Ultimately, these pieces will also serve as examples of the threads that weave together experiences of death for the living. 4 A gathering for all contributors will be held (location permitting) in which we can view, experience and discuss the clothing and stories which have grown out of our individual losses 5 A public art exhibit will allow members of the general public to witness, reflect and become involved through experiencing what was collected and created. 6 The final goal of the project is to create a book that will document the project and pieces created from it, including contributor and public response. Some Final Thoughts..."...once removed from the body, dress lacks fullness and seems strange, almost alien, and all the more poignant to us if we can remember the person who once breathed life into the fabric." ~ J. Entwhistle ~ What happens to clothing once occupied by someone who has passed away? Is it left sitting in a pile on the floor as it was when death came? Is it given away, thrown away, washed or unwashed, folded away in a drawer, or hung indefinitely in a quiet closet, in a quiet untouched room? Whatever choices are made, one thing remains the same: the clothing of a deceased loved one is no longer just dress. It holds a narrative of memory, body, identity, sweat and smell that is a souvenir of loss. To read more on this project go to Collecting Loss: Weaving Threads of Memory www.collectingloss.com |
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| << April09, 2007 - Special Edition of Storytime Tapestry - Correction |
April10, 2007 - All About Dreams - A Martha Jette Column >> |
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