As many of you may know, I lost my sister in August of 2022, two years after losing my mom. I had just given birth to my littlest baby in June, and this news absolutely rocked my world and my poor postpartum mind, and sparked a huge shift in my practice. I mentioned in my last blog post that my local smoke shop was a huge part of my spiritual journey, and I’m going to explain where that started.
The Journey Begins
On the morning of August 18, 2022, I woke up to a phone call from my sister. When I picked up, I heard an unfamiliar voice on the other end, telling me that something had happened while they were out of state, and they had been trying to reach me so that the hospital could contact me.
Without going into details, she was in bad shape, and they needed my consent for an intervention that could potentially save her life, though it was not a guarantee. After being given a run down, I decided to go ahead with it, in hopes it would save her. My brain was not fully processing what was happening, though part of me knew this was the beginning of the end.
I was trying to figure out what I could even do. She was states away and I had a 7 week old baby at home who was exclusively breastfed and I couldn’t leave and would not fare well on a 10 hour drive. There was nothing I could do besides sit around and wait for an update. Looking back, part of me wishes I had done more, but I have finally accepted that I did everything I could with the cards I was dealt.
My partner at the time had called out of work, since we had no idea what the day would hold. My life felt like it was put on pause, and I spent most of the day pacing, making phone calls and trying to find a way to cope outside of taking care of my children. Usually when we were in a position like this before, we would sit around and chain smoke cigarettes to try to ground and give our anxious bodies something to do while we talked or sat around waiting. I did not want to do that being that I was nursing my little one, and he had just a few months prior quit cigarettes and switched to a no nicotine vape. I kept taking his vape, which prompted me to head over to my local shop and get my own.
I remember that as I was on my way over there, I was on the phone with the hospital. I was told that despite the intervention, my sister was once again declining, and I had to make the decision on whether or not to stop the interventions and place her on comfort care, which we know as “pulling the plug.” My entire world stopped at that moment and I was transported to the day just 17 months prior, where I knew my mom would not make it, but I had to make an official decision to stop the medical interventions and allow her body to pass on its own.
I was standing right outside the smoke shop when I got the news, a spot I have deemed my “sad girl spot.” This seemingly normal spot to the average eye, was a spot where my entire world shattered. I sat here at times when I wanted to revisit the moment, playing it over and over again hoping that it was all a dream and that it ended differently. I still sit here sometimes when I miss her, or when I’m dealing with heavy sadness or guilt or need to figure out a solution to a problem.
Choosing Kindness
What I remember the most about that moment was dealing with the thought of having to make this decision states away over the phone, and then having to go be a normal member of society. I walked into the smoke shop, completely defeated. I was met with such kindness, that after I walked out, I felt like I would be able to handle the rest of the day and the upcoming days of hell that would follow. Their kindness helped me in a moment of utter despair and I will never EVER forget that.
This was way different to an experience I had after losing my mom. During a worldwide shut down in March of 2020, I was looking for something to wear to my mother’s funeral, and my partner and I didn’t want to bring our daughters into any stores, but he didn’t want to leave me to deal with my thoughts alone and I felt like I couldn’t drive, so we’d drive together and take turns going into the places we needed to go.
So there I was, outside a Kohl’s, my partner had gone in looking for something and then I was going to go in after. I was so exhausted from everything I’d been dealing with, my mom’s death and then having to make arrangements, that I took a little nap in the car while my children slept. Then my children and I were abruptly woken up by intense banging on my car window. I rolled down my window to a woman screaming at me that my car was on. I told her I was aware, and that my kids were in the car and it was cold outside. She proceeded to scream in my face that my car being on was polluting the air and it “wasn’t that cold.” I rolled my window up, and she kept banging on my window and screaming that she was calling the cops. She never did, she was just on a power trip, and she had no idea what I was going through or why I was napping in my car on a random afternoon.
Looking back, my Aries moon wishes I would have gotten out of the car, and screamed right back in her face that I didn’t give a shit what power trip she was on, and that I just lost my mom and was only even there for her to scream at because I needed something to wear to her funeral. Lucky her, I guess.
I remember after this, I called my partner freaking out and asking when he was coming back to the car. When he went back to the car, I went inside to look for shoes. The nice young lady was showing me very cute heels, but I turned most of them away and told her I needed something for my mom’s funeral. She froze, looked at me, and said “I lost my mom, too.” She asked how old I was, and I told her I was 24, and she shared that she was around the same age when her mom passed away. She shared some words of encouragement, and then I found a simple black pair of heels that I still own today.
This takes me back to another moment I had earlier this year. I was processing some very traumatic information, and was missing my mom beyond belief. I had walked into another one of my usual spots, Sweet Love Cafe, after pacing around and cleaning up the litter that had piled up outside. I walked in, asked the girl to make me her favorite drink, which happened to be a version of my own favorite, and walked to the bathroom to wash my hands.
When I came back, I looked at her, my eyes filled with tears, and said “thank you for always being kind to me.” She responded so kindly, and asked if everything was okay. I just started sobbing telling her my mom’s anniversary was coming up, and that I was missing her and my sister so much. She told me they would always be there for me, and that I was welcome anytime, even if I just needed to sit in silence. I always knew this was a safe place, but in that moment, I felt like I was being wrapped in a huge energetic hug and was once again reminded that I am not alone.
I sit out on the bench outside the cafe often, a place where I overlook my sad girl spot. It's almost like I can see myself again in that moment when I was so lost and my world was shattered. I remember what it felt like when I was met with kindness in my darkest moments, and all of my troubles just seem to melt away.
All of this leads me to say this: at the end of the day, you never know what someone is going through, and choosing kindness can literally rejuvenate a person’s spirit. This is something that the woman who was working in the shoe department that day, the owner of the smoke shop, and the owners of the cafe showed me. In those moments, when I felt so alone, and so defeated, they chose kindness, and I was able to go back into the world with my light intact, even if it was wavering.
Leave a comment