Some of  you  may  have  taken the opportunity  to  hear  Dr Alan Wolfelt , a renowned and  gifted grief  counselor and director of the Centre for Loss and Transition in Fort Collins, Colorado  brought in by  Oceanside  Hospice  last  September.   Dr. Wolfelt speaks of grief as the internal response to loss and mourning the shared social response to loss as one journeys towards reconciling grief.

As a woman who  put an infant  daughter  up for  adoption  many  years  ago  and  has  since re-united with her, I realized after attending  Dr Wolfelt’s  workshop that  this is what  my  journey  over the  years  has been about. My  mourning  has been  reflected and continues to be so in   songs I  write and  perform, in  written  articles  and facilitating  adoption  workshops,  and in planning  for  a healing  retreat.

‘It’s Cool Having Three Grandmothers’  is a story  with an  adoption theme crafted  from a perspective of  a young  girl  named Holly  who  has  three grandmothers. 

It’s Cool Having Three Grandmas!

“Just one more sleep and I’ll be flying to British Columbia to visit Grandma Jose,” I said as Mom walked into my room. “It’s awesome! I’m only twelve and flying on my own.”

“Dad and I felt you were ready for this kind of experience, Holly. I just came in to check on how your packing is going.”

My big brass bed was already disappearing under my skirt, jeans, shorts, t-shirts, hoodie, sandals and runners. “I hope I can get this into my carry-on.” I waved a hand at my iPod and charger, hairbrush, nail polish, hair ties, hat, sun glasses, Kindle reader, jewelry and a few energy bars.

“You sound stressed. Can you use some help?” Mom asked.  “Thanks. Mom. I can handle it,” I said. “Listening to my music helps loads.”

“Did you know I’m the only one of my friends with three grandmas?”

“You’ve never mentioned it. Speaking of grandmas, Grandma Marie must have your Hermione quilt almost finished.”

“Yesterday she told me it would be ready later this afternoon,” I said. “It’s going to look so cool on my bed. Grandma Marie also said, ‘You get animated like Grandma Jose does when you’re excited about something.’ That was when I was telling her how cool it was that Grandma Jose had booked me into an archeological dig at the Royal Tyrrell Museum in Drumheller.”

“Grandma Marie takes time to listen when I want to talk about Grandma Jose. Do you think it’s because she stayed with her for a few days when she was on her trip to B.C.? Maybe it’s because we invite her to dinner when Grandma Jose visits us?”

“That’s quite possible, honey,” Mom said.

“I wish Grandma Stella was that way. When I want to talk about Grandma Jose, she gets kind of quiet and always changes the subject.”

Mom said, “Maybe next time you could ask her about that.”

“I’m glad Grandma Stella loves reading as much as I do. We chat a lot about the latest books we’ve downloaded onto our Kindles. She never misses any of my soccer practices or games either. Rain or shine she’s there cheering for me.”

“Sounds like Grandma Stella is your number one fan.” said Mom.

“After you and Dad, she really is.” I said. “Grandma Jose is so different. I think of her as my funky Grandma. I just love the cool outfits she keeps sending.”

Mom said, “Funky describes Grandma Jose perfectly.”

“Mom, my friends call me Fashion Chick. I think it’s because they’re jealous. I prefer that to being teased about my flaming red hair though,” I said. “It’s neat when we are out together and someone thinks I’m older than they are. They roll their eyes. I smile and say ‘Darlings, being taller, slimmer and pulling my long hair back in a ponytail adds a few years to my age!’”

Mom laughed and said, “I can just picture you doing that and loving every minute of it!  Now I have something to do in the kitchen and from the looks of it you still have to pack.”

“Packing sucks,” I said, as she left my room.

An hour later I’d almost finished, even made room for Spike my little Dino stuffy. It only seemed fair to take him to the land of dinosaurs with me!

Now, I could relax on my bed for a few minutes. Reaching over for the digital viewer remote, I pressed play. A slide show of some of my favorite photos from last summer’s camping trip in the Rockies with Mom and Grandma Jose began. Seeing the mother grizzly with her cubs digging for roots on that avalanche slope, me at the end of my first long hike near Lake Louise, my legs feeling like wet noodles and Grandma Jose and I beside the gigantic ice- explorer at the Columbia Icefields – it all made me wish Grandma Jose lived closer.

For some reason during Grandma Jose’s last visit, I had started wondering whose mom she was. Grandma Marie was Dad’s mom and Grandma Stella was Mom’s mom so it made sense that Grandma Jose had to be someone’s mom. But whose mom?

Grandma Jose acted kind of weird when I came into her room and asked her. It was like she didn’t hear me. She just reached into her suitcase and handed me a small gift bag with this beautiful Harry Potter charm bracelet. I was so surprised I ran out of the room to show Mom.

When I asked Mom that question later, while she and Grandma Jose were having tea, she finally said, ‘Grandma Jose is a special family friend; that’s why we call her Grandma.’  The way she said it still made me think she wanted to say more.

Something smelled good!  Hmm. Mom must be making my favorite chocolate pecan cookies, I thought. I pressed the stop button on the remote and raced into the kitchen.

“Mom did you bake my favorite cookies?” I asked.

“I sure did. I was just about to call you.  Ready for some?”

“You have to ask?  My packing is almost finished. They’ll taste even better!”

“Come and sit down, honey. There is something I’d like you to know before you fly out tomorrow to visit Grandma Jose.”

“What is it Mom?”

“Remember that day Grandma Jose and I were having tea and you asked whose mother Grandma Jose was?”

“You told me we call her Grandma Jose because she is a very special friend,” I said.

“I wasn’t quite prepared for your question Holly. I knew it was a matter of time before you’d ask it, though. Now I’m sorry I didn’t answer it more honestly,” Mom said. “It’s time you knew that Grandma Jose is my biological mother. She is the mother who gave birth to me.”

“That means Grandma Jose really is my Grandma,” I said, puzzled. “I often wondered if she might be after you told me you were adopted. Why didn’t you tell me then?” I wondered how Grandma Jose felt about me not knowing. “Why did Grandma Jose give you up?”

“Your Grandma was a student when I was born,” Mom said. “Being unable to care for me, she wanted me to be adopted into a loving family, hoping I’d have brothers and sisters.  That is how Grandma Stella became my mother. All that your Grandma hoped for me happened.”

“I’m sad for Grandma Jose. I remember how much I cried giving up my puppy because of allergies. I knew who was taking my puppy. I don’t think it was that way for her.”

“You’re right,” she said.

“When did she find you?” I asked.

“Your Grandma searched and finally found me just about the time you turned two. Grandma Jose had named me Sara when I was born. Grandma Stella changed my name to Jose soon after I was adopted. She had no way of knowing then that it also was Grandma Jose’s name.”

I said, “I always thought it was strange that you both had the same name. That’s kind of way out!”

Mom said, “It hasn’t been easy for Grandma Stella to accept the fact that Grandma Jose has been welcomed into our family.”

“I don’t understand why,” I said.

“I think Grandma Stella thought she might lose me to Grandma Jose. Grandma Jose is a very special person but Grandma Stella is the only mother I have ever known. I love her very much. Nothing can change that.”

“So that’s why Grandma Stella never seems interested in hearing anything I say about Grandma Jose. I‘m going to tell Grandma Jose that you finally told me she really is my grandma. I still wish you would have told me this sooner,” I said and headed for my room.

I needed time in my room to think about what Mom had told me. She came in later to see how I was doing. “Holly, this hasn’t been easy for me either, she said. “When you get back we can talk more about it if you like.”

I said, “I think I might like that, Mom.”

It was brutal getting up so early this morning going to the airport. I was so sleepy. My flight from Toronto was more crowded than I thought it would be. Better not forget to text Mom and Dad as soon as I’m with Grandma Jose, I reminded myself as we landed.

Grandma Jose ran toward me with a big smile and outstretched arms.  She was hard to miss dressed in purple and green with her flaming red hair partially hidden by that wide brim hat.

As I flew into her arms she said, “It’s so good to see you again, little one.”

I hugged her tightly. “It’s so good to be here with you,” I said.  Before I left mom told me you really are my Grandma. I think having three Grandmas is so cool!”

By Jule Briese (aka Ms Butterfly)
Richard Rohr talks about ‘loving both halves of life” and how the first half of our life prepares us for the second half of life. During the first half of life, my choice to enter the teaching profession resulted in becoming a life long learner. This has created wonderful opportunities to serve in meaningful ways and to develop a variety of skills and discover new interests.

The second stage of my life continues to deepen and expand these skills and interests. Tranquil Shores Facilitation is now my way of reaching out to the community, offering Nurturing Workshops in the areas of Inner Growth, Finding Balance, Restorative Communication and Healing Retreats for women who put their infants up for adoption.

My belief in the power of energy to heal continues to be nurtured through energy courses and offering energy based healing sessions as well as volunteering in self care at Oceanside Hospice.

I am presently taking courses from the Centre for Transition and Loss located in Fort Collins, Colorado, with the goal of completing the Death and Grief Studies Certificate. This certificate will hopefully create opportunities in the future of companioning those along their journey in grief and mourning.

The words of the mystic Meister Eckhart resonated for me when he wrote “Where shall we begin? Begin with the heart. For the spring of life arises from the heart and from there it runs in a circular manner.”

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