Kelowna Death Cafe

Grief Groceries!
I saw this letter today- as a funeral directors son, I have been around this for years. This is some of the best advice I have ever seen.

“Hey there, Thanks for writing. I’m really glad your friend has you in her life.

I get it. Grief is a funny thing. It’s the time in our life when we most need help, and also the time when asking for help is so hard. Not because we are ashamed to ask for help, although that happens sometimes too. But mostly because our brain just sort of shuts down.

When my Dad died, I looked functional. But I wasn’t OK. Not at all. And when the news got out, the ton of people flooding me with calls, texts, and DM’s was overwhelming. I really couldn’t function. I sat on the swing in our yard and just stared into space. People called and asked what they could do to help. I had no idea.

“Well, anything you need at all, let me know, OK?”

“OK”.

They hung up. I stared into space some more.

I had no idea what to do. What I needed. I didn’t even know what to ask for.

Then a friend sent a text. This friend had met Dad once but didn’t really know him. But still, she knew I was hurting. I saw who it was and almost put the phone down without reading the text, but I saw the message and it stopped me:

Will you be home at 8:30 tonight?

What’s weird is this friend lives 12 hours away from me.

Yes, I replied.

“K.”

10 minutes later, she said, “Instacart will be there at 8:30. Open the door for them.”

“What?”

“Grief Groceries.!!”

When Instacart showed up, they put two large bags of groceries on my porch. Frozen pizzas. Ice cream. Oreo cookies. Tinned soup. Stouffer’s lasagna. A gallon of milk. Like that. Things I could heat up if I needed a meal, or pig out on if I needed fat and sugar. Sometimes, you just need to eat half a box of Oreos.

Notice she didn’t ask if I needed any food. I would have said no. She just asked if I would be home.

Grief groceries.

Another friend, who lives out of town, asked Renee to name a restaurant near our house where we like to eat. There is a local chain near our house that is sort of a deli. When we eat supper there, we spend about $25. Renee told her the name of the place.

An hour later, there was a gift card in my inbox for $250. Yes, that is a lot of money, and I understand not everyone can do that. But the wonderful thing was that because it was enough for multiple meals, we didn’t try to save it for “the right time”. We ate there that night, and take out from there several times a week for the next month on nights when I just didn’t have the spoons to cook.

Both of those gift-givers knew something I didn’t know – that when you are grieving, you don’t want to make decisions. No, that’s not quite it: You can’t make decisions. You hit decision fatigue really fast.

So, I guess what I’m saying is, don’t ask grieving people to make big choices or decisions. “How can I help” is a big choice. But “Can I take the kids this afternoon so you can have some time to yourself” is a much smaller one. “Will you be home tonight?” is a small choice. “What restaurant do you like” is a small decision. Just showing up to cut their grass because you noticed it needed cutting is loads better than asking, “Do you want me to cut the grass?” Or, “I’m going to Target. What can I get you while I’m there?” is better than “Can I run any errands for you?”

It won’t always be like this. If you stick around, eventually they will surface and ways to be helpful will make themselves known. But in the first few days, especially, it helps to remove as many decisions from their plate as you can!”

Original Words from: Hugh Hollowell Jr.

I missed you quietly today. So quietly that no one noticed.
I missed you as I climbed out of bed and as I brushed my teeth; when I waited at the lights on the drive into work and as I heard the rain outside my window.
I missed you as I ordered lunch and as I kicked off my shoes when I got home; as I switched off the lights and climbed into bed for the night.
I missed you without tears or noise or fanfare.
But oh how I felt it.
I felt it in the morning, at lunchtime, in the evening and at night. I felt it as I woke, as I waited, as I worked. I felt it at home, on the road, in the light, in the dark, in the rain.
I felt it in every one of those moments, each one sitting heavier and heavier as the weight of me missing you kept growing and growing.
Yes, I missed you so quietly today.
But I felt it so loudly.
***
Becky Hemsley Poetry 2024

When you say goodbye to a parent, you are suddenly living in a whole new world.
You are no longer ‘the child’ and regardless of how long you have officially been ‘grown up’ for, you realise you actually never were until this moment. The shock of this adjustment will shake your very core.
When you have finally said goodbye to both your parents, assuming you were lucky enough to have had two. You are an orphan on this earth and that never, ever gets easier to take no matter how old and grey you are yourself and no matter how many children of your own you have.
You see, a part of your body is physically connected to the people that made it and also a part of your soul. When they no longer live, it is as if you are missing something practical that you need – like a finger or an arm. Because really, you are. You are missing your parent and that is something far more necessary than any limb.
And yet the connection is so strong it carries on somehow, no-one knows how exactly. But they are there. In some way, shape or form they are still guiding you if you listen closely enough. You can hear the words they would choose to say to you.
You can feel the warmth of their approval, their smile when a goal is achieved, their all-consuming love filling the air around you when a baby is born they haven’t met.
If you watch your children very closely you will see that they too have a connection with your parents long after they are gone. They will say things that resonate with you because it brings so many memories of the parent you are missing. They will carry on traits, thoughts and sometimes they will even see them in their dreams.
This is not something we can explain.
Love is a very mystical and wondrous entity.
It is far better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all and grief, grief is the price of that love. The deeper the love the stronger the grief.
When you say goodbye to a parent, do not forget to connect with that little girl who still lives inside you somewhere.
Take very good care of her, for she, she will be alone and scared.
When you say goodbye to your parents, you lose an identity, a place in the world. When the people who put you on this earth are no longer here, it changes everything.
Look after yourself the way they looked after you and listen out for them when you need it the most.
They never really leave.
- Donna Ashworth

WHEN YOU SAY GOODBYE TO A PARENT
You are suddenly living in a whole new world.

You are no longer ‘the child’ and regardless of how long you have officially been ‘grown up’ for, you realise you actually never were until this moment. The shock of this adjustment will shake your very core.

When you have finally said goodbye to both your parents, assuming you were lucky enough to have had two. You are an orphan on this earth and that never, ever gets easier to take no matter how old and grey you are yourself and no matter how many children of your own you have.

You see, a part of your body is physically connected to the people that made it and also a part of your soul. When they no longer live, it is as if you are missing something practical that you need – like a finger or an arm. Because really, you are. You are missing your parent and that is something far more necessary than any limb.

And yet the connection is so strong it carries on somehow, no-one knows how exactly. But they are there. In some way, shape or form they are still guiding you if you listen closely enough. You can hear the words they would choose to say to you.

You can feel the warmth of their approval, their smile when a goal is achieved, their all-consuming love filling the air around you when a baby is born they haven’t met.

If you watch your children very closely you will see that they too have a connection with your parents long after they are gone. They will say things that resonate with you because it brings so many memories of the parent you are missing. They will carry on traits, thoughts and sometimes they will even see them in their dreams.

This is not something we can explain.

Love is a very mystical and wondrous entity.

It is far better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all and grief, grief is the price of that love. The deeper the love the stronger the grief.

When you say goodbye to a parent, do not forget to connect with that little girl who still lives inside you somewhere.

Take very good care of her, for she, she will be alone and scared.

When you say goodbye to your parents, you lose an identity, a place in the world. When the people who put you on this earth are no longer here, it changes everything.

Look after yourself the way they looked after you and listen out for them when you need it the most.

They never really leave.

Donna Ashworth
From my poetry collection

Marked annually in Canada on April 28, the National Day of Mourning is a day to remember and honour those lives lost or injured due to a workplace tragedy. It’s also a day to collectively renew our commitment to improving health and safety in the workplace and to preventing further injuries, illnesses and deaths. Traditionally on April 28, the Canadian flag flies at half-mast on Parliament Hill and on all federal government buildings. Employers and workers observe Day of Mourning in a variety of ways. Some light candles, lay wreaths, wear commemorative pins, ribbons or black armbands, and pause for a moment of silence.

According to the Association of Workers’ Compensation Boards of Canada (AWCBC), in 2022, there were 993 workplace fatalities recorded in Canada. Among these deaths were 33 young workers aged 15-24. Add to these fatalities the 348,747 accepted claims (an increase of 71,530 from the previous year) for lost time due to a work-related injury or disease, including 40,203 from workers aged 15-24, and the fact these statistics only include what is reported and accepted by the compensation boards, there is no doubt the total number of workers impacted is even greater.

And it’s not just these numbers on which we need to reflect. With each worker tragedy there are loved ones, family members, friends and co-workers who are directly affected, left behind, and deeply impacted – their lives also forever changed.

In 1991, eight years after the day of remembrance was launched by the Canadian Labour Congress, the Parliament of Canada passed the Workers Mourning Day Act making April 28 an official Day of Mourning. Today the Day of Mourning has since spread to more than 100 countries around the world and is recognized as Workers’ Memorial Day, and as International Workers’ Memorial Day by the International Labour Organisation (ILO) and the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC).

Never forgotten 🌹

You Don’t Just Lose Someone Once.

You don’t just lose someone once.
You lose them when you close your eyes at night.
And as you open them each morning.
You lose them throughout the day.

An unused coffee cup.
An empty chair.
A pair of boots no longer there.
You lose them as the sun sets.
And darkness closes in.

You lose them as you wonder why.
Staring at a star lit sky.
You lose them on the big days.
Anniversaries.
Birthdays.
Graduations.
Holidays.
Weddings.
And the regular days too.

You lose them in a song they used to sing.
The scent of their cologne.
A slice of their favorite pie.
You lose them in conversations you will never have.
And all the words unsaid.

You lose them in all the places they’ve been.
And all the places they longed to go.
You lose them in what could have been.
And all the dreams you shared.
You lose them as the seasons change.
The snow blows.
The flowers blossom.
The grass grows.
The leaves fall.
You lose them again and again.
Day after day.
Month after month.
Year after year.

You lose them as you pick up the broken pieces.
And begin your life anew.
You lose them when you realize.
This is your new reality.
They are never coming back.
No matter how much
You miss them or
Need them.
No matter how hard you pray.
They are gone.
And you must go on.
Alone.

Time marches on, carrying them further and further way.
You lose them as your hair whitens and your body bends with age.
Your memory fades.
And the details begin to blur.
Their face stares back at you from a faded photograph.
Someone you used to know.
You think you might have loved them once.
A long time ago.

Back then.
When you were whole.
You don’t just lose someone once.
You lose them every day.
Over and over again.
For the rest of your life.

Love as if it's your final moment. The pain of losing someone changes the trajectory of our journey.

❤️ The thing about life is that at the end of it,
we always wish there had been more. ❤️

More time.
More hugs.
More kisses.
More laughs.
More memories.
More deep conversations.
More silliness and playfulness.
More opportunities for connection.
More awareness of how fast time can move.
More appreciation for how much the small things matter.
More insight into how many things don’t actually matter at all.
More life.
More.

Because when it’s time to say goodbye,
we are never truly ready.

So maybe today is a good day to try harder to shake off the things that don’t matter.
Focus your energy, your time, your attention, and your heart on the things that truly matter the most.

Live the life you have now and squeeze more out of it.

Because at the end of it,
we’ll always wish there had been more.

~Shared from Anonymous

The harder we love
Means the harder we grieve
The harder it is
To go on when they leave

The harder to sleep
And the harder to wake
To know they’re not here
With each breath that we take

It’s hard to look forward
And hard to look back
Stuck in the middle,
Imprisoned and trapped

Where the harder the darkness
The harsher the light,
The harsher this world
That keeps spinning with life

But when that world’s feeling
So painful and hard
And you can’t imagine
Escaping the dark

It might help a little
To know it’s because
The harder we grieve
Means the harder we loved

******

This one resonated with so many people last time I last shared it, that I wanted to post it again today for anyone that needs it 💔

Becky Hemsley 2023
Art by the ever-wonderful lucyclaireillustration

🐾
I'm the one who's always waiting for you.🐾

Your car has a special sound that I have imprinted on my senses, I can recognize it in a thousand.
Your steps have a magic bell.
Your voice is music to my ears.
If I see your joy, it makes me happy!.
Your scent is the best.
Your presence moves my senses.
Your waking up wakes me up
I contemplate you sleeping and for me you are my everything , I am happy watching your sleep.
Your look is a ray of light.
Your hands upon me, hold the lightness of peace and the sublime display of infinite love.
When you leave, I feel a huge void in my heart.
I keep waiting for you again and again.
I am the one who will wait for you all your life today, tomorrow and forever:
I am your dog.

Today someone asked about my fork tattoo (which most of the time I forget I have) but I’m glad they did. I needed the reminder of what it symbolized. I have a couple friends that are going through tough times right now. I hope they find peace in this message. For those who don’t know what it means, I’ll share the story below.

“There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things ‘in order,’ she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
‘There’s one more thing,’ she said excitedly.
‘What’s that?’ came the Pastor’s reply.
‘This is very important,’ the young woman continued. ‘I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.’

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
‘That surprises you, doesn’t it?’ the young woman asked.
‘Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request,’ said the Pastor.
The young woman explained. ‘My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming, like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!’
‘So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, ‘What’s with the fork?!’ Then I want you to tell them: ‘Keep your fork. The best is yet to come.’
The Pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.
At the funeral people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, ‘What’s with the fork?’ And over and over again he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.”
So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share. Being friends with someone is not an opportunity, but a sweet responsibility

And just remember…keep your fork!
The BEST is yet to come!”

"Grief is not linear. It's not a slow progression forward toward healing, it's a zigzag, a terrible back-and-forth from devastated to okay until finally there are more okay patches and fewer devastated ones. The mind can't handle emotions like grief and terror for any sustained period of time, so it takes some downtime." – Lisa Unger, Beautiful Lies: A Novel⁠⁣ 💕🦋

When it comes to grief, remember this:

You have not broken a bone.
There is no default treatment,
no cure,
no timeline
for your healing.

You cannot strap your heart to the heart next to it
and hope that it mends itself.

You cannot wrap it in a cast
and protect it from further breaking.

You cannot rest it for weeks or months.

You cannot rely on your other heart
like you might a leg or an arm.

You have not broken a bone.

And yet, like a broken bone, your heart will always now have a vulnerable spot. A bruise, a burn, a scar.

And just as your arm can still ache after breaking
when it has been holding too much for too long,
so your heart may ache.

When it has been holding too much.
For too long.

But just as your once-broken arm can still hold things and your once-broken leg can still dance,
so your heart will learn to carry you forward.

Even when it aches.

❤️‍🩹

******

Becky Hemsley 2023
Stunning artwork by Amanda Cass

From When I Am Gone

🎬 12th Anniversary Special - Jon Underwood's Soul Film is Here 🎬

Dear cherished Death Cafe community,

As promised, Jon's long-anticipated Soul Film is finally ready, and I'm delighted to confirm its release times! Jon, the founder of Death Cafe, has left a profound impact, and this film offers an intimate look into his life and work.

🕗 Early Access for Patrons: The film will go live on Patreon at 8 PM BST tonight for our generous supporters. Not a patron yet? There's still time to join! www.patreon.com/deathcafe
🕛 General Release: For our wider community, the film will be accessible for all at 12 PM BST tomorrow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTndxkWODt8

Don't miss this personal portrait featuring conversations with Jon's close friends, our Mum and Death Cafe co-founder Susan Barsky Reid, and associates from Jamyang, along with Jon himself discussing the importance of talking about death. It's a tribute you won't want to miss.

Whether you contribute or simply share this message, your support is invaluable in keeping Jon's vision alive.

Sending much warmth and gratitude,
Jools

For more about our 12th anniversary and the journey so far, check out our latest blog post: https://deathcafe.com/blog/964/
To learn more about Death Cafe and our mission, visit our website: www.deathcafe.com/what

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yTndxkWODt8&fbclid=IwAR2Muv-MC-kHVeCeLyPYtdWabq1WVRIeWx1Ixqj05SGCD-qKosT9QRvvM8A_aem_AaUJeRyVBAboatzLsi4SQ79dgJs6cNnQPMN6UKcqBbj9nbrQeSx2wsBjH6bvDa4Wm4YGHKR71Y5eU3BFWcy8IFOa -sheet

Unveiling the Heart of Death Cafe: A Soul Film tribute to Jon Underwood on our 12th anniversary Dive into the untold facets of Jon Underwood, the founder of Death Cafe, as we celebrate our monumental 12th anniversary. This Soul Film offers intimate inte...

If you're in the Okanagan Valley and you're interested...

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=693177502838007&set=a.552901953532230&type=3&mibextid=CDWPTG

Gratitude + Grapes is back on October 15th at Sperling Vineyards with Mind Over Mat.

Tickets are on sale https://hospicecoha.org/special-events/gratitude-and-grapes-2023/


-activity

Always remember them and speak their name ❤

When someone dies, the first thing to do is nothing. Don't run out and call the nurse. Don't pick up the phone. Take a deep breath and be present to the magnitude of the moment.

There's a grace to being at the bedside of someone you love as they make their transition out of this world. At the moment they take their last breath, there's an incredible sacredness in the space. The veil between the worlds opens.

We're so unprepared and untrained in how to deal with death that sometimes a kind of panic response kicks in. "They're dead!"

We knew they were going to die, so their being dead is not a surprise. It's not a problem to be solved. It's very sad, but it's not cause to panic.

If anything, their death is cause to take a deep breath, to stop, and be really present to what's happening. If you're at home, maybe put on the kettle and make a cup of tea.

Sit at the bedside and just be present to the experience in the room. What's happening for you? What might be happening for them? What other presences are here that might be supporting them on their way? Tune into all the beauty and magic.

Pausing gives your soul a chance to adjust, because no matter how prepared we are, a death is still a shock. If we kick right into "do" mode, and call 911, or call the hospice, we never get a chance to absorb the enormity of the event.

Give yourself five minutes or 10 minutes, or 15 minutes just to be. You'll never get that time back again if you don't take it now.

After that, do the smallest thing you can. Call the one person who needs to be called. Engage whatever systems need to be engaged, but engage them at the very most minimal level. Move really, really, really, slowly, because this is a period where it's easy for body and soul to get separated.

Our bodies can gallop forwards, but sometimes our souls haven't caught up. If you have an opportunity to be quiet and be present, take it. Accept and acclimatize and adjust to what's happening. Then, as the train starts rolling, and all the things that happen after a death kick in, you'll be better prepared.

You won't get a chance to catch your breath later on. You need to do it now.

Being present in the moments after death is an incredible gift to yourself, it's a gift to the people you're with, and it's a gift to the person who's just died. They're just a hair's breath away. They're just starting their new journey in the world without a body. If you keep a calm space around their body, and in the room, they're launched in a more beautiful way. It's a service to both sides of the veil.

Sarah Kerr

Be gentle with your heart and trust the grieving process. Take the time to sort through all that you are experiencing.

Good Morning everyone 👋

I hope you're enjoying a wonderful cuppa coffee/tea/water on this beautiful morning... Now that communities are opening up again there is change in the air.

Stay tuned as there may be some exciting news coming soon 🙉🙊🙏

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and a richness to life that nothing else can bring.
~ Oscar Wilde ~

~ Art by Blenda Tyvoll ~

An important reminder...Grief is unique. We all move at our own pace. The key is to remember to slow down to the pace of your grief and listen to what it has to share with you. It knows your way through.

For those that can't be here ❤



https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yw95R0Vl4_c&feature=youtu.be

The Duchess of Cambridge & Tom Walker - 'For Those Who Can't Be Here' @ Westminster Abbey, 2021 Watch The Duchess of Cambridge and Tom Walker perform 'For Those Who Can't Be Here' at Westminster Abbey for Royal Carols: Together At Christmas.The performa...

For the planner in all of us, time to start thinking, talking and planning our Advance Care Plan



https://www.npr.org/sections/money/2016/10/05/496751771/episode-521-the-town-that-loves-death

Episode 521: The Town That Loves Death On today's episode, we'll take you to a place where dying has become acceptable dinner conversation. A place that also happens to have the lowest healthcare spending of any region in the country.

Kelowna Death Cafe updated their website address.

I encourage you to look for the peaceful and tranquil moments in your day.

Fear does not stop death. It stops life. And worrying does not take away tomorrow's troubles; it takes away today's peace. Important words for us to remember during this time.

A great way to start the day. Let's write down these questions followed by the answers. Peace be among you today and always.

Kelowna Death Cafe updated their business hours.