Goodbye, Farewell, Amen

Another Mountie has taken his life, because of  post traumatic stress, and the R.C.M.P's inability to care for its members who are terribly damaged by the work they have sworn to do, to serve and to protect.

This is very hard to hear. 

There is a brotherhood and sisterhood with mounties, whether or not we ever met each other, we share the training, intense, exhausting, intimate...we share the risks, we share the courage, the insecurities, the fear, the laughter/dark humor that often only we can appreciate, the bad days the good days. 

The first officer suicide that hit me was my troopmate, Manon Chamberlain, less than a year out of training, she shot herself with her service revolver, a young woman I lived with and shared meals with and classes with and drill with for 6 agonizing months. 

Traditionally in a troop, back then anyway, the french girls didn't really like the english girls, but Manon and I bonded over bringing up the rear in most five mile runs! I miss her even though I probably would not have seen her again after depot. 

The lives of front line personnel are not easy. They/we have seen things only soldiers in combat can imagine. You don't go home and walk it off. It stays with you as a permanent blemish on your heart and mind, a lump in your throat you try to swallow away but it comes back, over and over, the more you see, the more justice lets you down. 

We only hear of the police officers who die in the line of fire, never much who die from the fire in their souls, from failing at fixing things that just cannot be fixed, failing to serve and protect the way we intended. I have seen horrific things. My family does not know about it nor will they ever know. I am happy my career in the RCMP was not a long one because I think I was spared far more pain and trauma than many of my colleagues who take that with them into retirement, hopefully to a natural old aged death. The next time you criticize a cop for being rude or arrogant or unfair or unfriendly or make donut shop jokes or call them pigs or worse......think about my brother Ken Barker, and all the men and women on the front lines, from 911 operators to paramedics to firemen and women to emergency room staff, and then decide if you can walk perfectly in their shoes. Or if you even would want to.
Godspeed Ken....I honor you.


Sian Thomson, #37559

I'll be seeing you

I recently made peace with my adult child¹s estrangement from me. 

After hearing the false accusations, lies, delusions, blame, rumors, and heart
shattering silence on too many mothers days, birthdays, christmases, I left.

I left my hope.

I took it out of my heart and discarded it.

I know that I was being poisoned by each day that I hoped she would come
back to me. 

So with a heavy heart, I left my grief of three years, knowing that I had
already put it off too long.

For the first few weeks, my body seemed to reject this. For three years I
had thought about what if¹s, waited for the phone to ring on special
occasions, cried when something reminded me of her or my grandchildren,
prayed for reconciliation. I didn¹t know who I was without my daughter and
grandchildren. Despite the kindness of friends and even strangers. I could
not help feeling utterly alone. Even though I have other children who are in
my life, it felt like I had a broken set. 

But it was this sense of aloneness that set me free. 

Somewhere along the way, I let go. I released all of the
optimism, that she would come back to me, and the pessimism that she
would not.  

The shards of her buried deep in my brain.

I stopped wondering if the things she had made me think about myself were
true. 

I began to see how extraordinary, breathtakingly beautiful life is. 

I meditated, drank too much coffee, went to therapy, laughed, and found
joy again. 

My children who have stayed by my side were reborn in my eyes, a
new, smaller set, richer, more precious, cherished, admired deeply.

Once I discovered that my happiness depends only on myself, nothing could
hurt me anymore. I have found and continue to find peace. Each day I am
closer to it than I was yesterday. I am a work in progress but I am full to
the brim with gratitude and joy. 

And so, since I have opened a new chapter in my life, I want to peacefully part with the contents of the last chapter.

The end of my maternal bond with her was the catalyst for a wealth of
positive changes in my life. It was a symbol, but most importantly, it was an
act of self-love. It was a realization that I deserved to be happy and I
could choose to be. I am moving forward with strength and grace and deep,
lasting peace. I am going to be who I was meant to be, and take those on the
journey who were meant to take that adventure with me.

I gave her life, and she has flown away, I no longer have to look to the sky to
wonder what could have been because  what is happening now has grounded me
on an exciting path to my destiny.

Maybe she will join me on my path someday, but I know now I can make the journey without her.

Namaste