Keep in Touch
Bess on her honeymoon Photo by Joseph Butel
I am Sandra Butel and this is my beautywalk.
Bessie Butel has died. Yes, it is true. My Mom Elizabeth (Bessie) Butel has left the building. Her body is an empty shell of the gentle presence she had been throughout all of my 55+ years of life on our spinning blue planet.
Somewhere a picture has been taken on a cell phone of her body at peace and soon it will ping into my inbox so I can see her departure with my own eyes when I am up to it.
This edition of my beautywalk is dedicated to her memory.
Time to Say Goodbye
A rooster crows outside the odd Japanese style Airbnb that Nico, Francis and I have called our home here in Puerto Princesa for the last two days. So much has happened here in between the Filipino tricycle rides and so-so food and the delicious Korean ice cream treats.
It felt so special to be reunited once again with Nico in the Philippines after a week spent together over Christmas at a pet sit in Hanoi, Vietnam. Almost like magic, he had materialized out of a series of messages in cyberspace; flesh and bone and spirit. We were once again able to enjoy our lovely adult son with his sensitive heart and deep ability to connect with the world around him.
We joined together in our concern over my Mom’s latest hospital visit and the news that she was refusing anything beyond palliative treatment for her congestive heart failure and pneumonia. It sounded like she was getting better and then in the morning a whole series of messages made it clear that she likely wasn’t going to get any better.
I was informed by my sister Lisa that Mom was awake and lucid and I sent a few messages to let her know I was thinking of her. I don’t know what made me decide to call her - I had tried texting her on Messenger just before heading out on one last scooter beach adventure with Francis and Nico, but there had been no answer. I could have let it go, but somehow I got the sense that I should try calling her directly, using my Skype credits. I will be forever grateful that I did.
She replied and was happy to hear from us. There was a slight slur to her words, either from the morphine or maybe from her having taken her teeth out before going to bed. Apart from that, she was her usual loving and kind self.
Her words to us three were full of love and kindness and peace. She told us each individually that she loved and cherished us and that she was so grateful to have had each of us in her life. She said she didn’t want us to change our travel plans in order to try to see her before she died. She wanted us to enjoy our lives to the fullest and was so glad that we were all together and in a beautiful place. She reasoned that she could live two more hours or two more years. She expressed both her gratitude at the level of care and love she was being given from the nurses and her dear friends Gloria and Sharon. She told us that she was ready to embrace whatever came next and that she did not want any more interventions beyond pain relief for whatever time she had left.
The Inimitable Bessie Butel Photo by Joseph Butel
The Beauty and Flow of LIfe (and Death)
We each got a chance to tell her how much she meant to us and the energy on the call was so peaceful and beautiful and poignant and real. After the call, we all felt both sad and oddly at ease with her choice to let nature take its course. We vowed to bring her spirit with us on our day’s adventure as we gathered our lunch and snacks and water and bathing suits and towels together, put on our sunscreen and helmets and sped off on our rented scooters towards the amazing beaches on the east coast of Palawan Island. Before leaving the city limits, we pulled up to the Shell station for gas. In this moment of pause, I was overwhelmed with emotion and sobbed, my heart burning with the enormity of the hole my Mother’s death would leave in our lives.
Leaning In
We drove through the countryside; mountainous and so full of green, in awe at the beauty around us. At first, I found myself fighting the back and forth and up and down motion of the scooter, fear flooding my body and my hands gripping around Francis’s waist. I felt each bump of the road, and I felt my body tense up and I knew that I needed to figure out how to really let go if I was going to do justice to this day that we had dedicated to my dear Mom and her upcoming final voyage to the world beyond the stars.
With time, deep breaths, and a timely tip from my dear partner, I learned to lean into the curves instead of fighting them.With each new turn in the road I felt more and more like a true participant in the creation of this glorious day of bon voyage to Bessie. I was no longer just a passenger on this journey. I felt empowered to make the curves more elegant and smooth by moving my body left and then right and then left again as we rounded yet another patch of empty road surrounded by stunning scenery. I focused on the deliciousness of the air that was flowing across my arms and legs and that was ruffling up my hair when I opened the visor of my bright orange helmet.
With the spirit of Bessie Butel guiding us all, we found a gorgeous beach, almost totally deserted with lovely white sand, spectacular trees that provided shade and clear turquoise water that we revelled in together. This beach was paradise and being together the three of us, with memories of the sounds and sights of Bessie Butel, was glorious. The softness of the water, the salt upon our skin, the changing currents that would bring a flow of cold water every once in a while, all contributed to making this an unforgettable day.
Before and After
At two in the morning the dogs started to join in with the roosters, letting it be known that they were ready to start a new day. I had not slept yet - I was waiting for Nico to come home from a night out, but mostly I was waiting for news about my Mom. I had the feeling that her death was going to come soon and I wanted to be awake for it if at all possible.
There was a flash of light in the darkness and I knew this message was going to be a point of before and after. I laid awake thinking about my Mom and started the process of making peace with the story of her life and her passing. Pausing to reflect on, and find ease with, my decision to take her at her word and not get into the frenzy of trying to figure out how to fly across the globe to try to get to her before she died. I needed to honor my decision to leave Regina and live a life of travel and adventure. Part of my contemplation was to take the time to accept the consequences of my choice to let my siblings deal with the first round of the inevitable clean up on their own and to do what I could to support them from afar. I also needed to build up my courage to request that a memorial service be postponed until sometime in the spring or summer until my return to Canada.
As my siblings and I thought about what Mom would have wanted and reminisced on how much she loved a big family gathering it was decided that we would look at August 2024 (around the date when we would have celebrated her 90th birthday). This way we could all come back to Saskatchewan and join together in a celebration of this special woman.
Bessie Butel with great grandson Shep
Tiny Drops
Over the next week I continued my beautywalk on Palawan Island in the Philippines. Each time I found myself surrounded by natural beauty I would pause and close my eyes and my Mom’s face would appear just above my left eye. At moments she looked as I remembered her from when I was a baby, sitting with me on the beach as I examined the sand between my toes. Then, she transformed into an octogenarian, sitting across the table as we played a friendly hand of cribbage (that she handily won). Sometimes I saw her with her striking white head of hair and sometimes she had her dyed ash blond hair that was short and tidy around her ears. In all of these imaginings she was happy and peaceful and radiating her love for me and for all of her family. I kept her near to me each step of my journey and felt held by her heart and her undying support and encouragement for living my best and most unique life.
As we headed into the Unesco World Heritage Site of the Underground River near Sabang town in Palawan, I started to think about how my Mom’s life was something like the stunning stalagmites and stalactites in these caves. One tiny drop of rain at a time, over the span of millions of years, created this breathtaking beauty.
This made me think of all the tiny drops of kindness Bessie Butel showered upon everyone around her. This became evident in all the messages my siblings and I have received from the wide diversity of people whose lives had been touched by my Mother in her almost 90 years on the earth. She touched people with her teaching, with her smiles, her quick and kind wit, her hugs and her interest in people’s stories and in books. She invited so many to share in her delicious food that she cooked with care either on her own or with her group of church ladies. She was so quick to see the beauty in the world around her and she often exclaimed at it with expressions of gratitude and joy for the wonder of it all. I carry on this legacy in my beautywalk and in my efforts to find the gift in my everyday challenges.
Me and Mom loving it up Photo by Joe Butel
Living Legacy
Even as her heart lay broken with congestive heart failure and from missing her dear husband Joe, she was giving back to me. Giving me permission to continue sucking the marrow out of this beautywalk that my life had become.
I thought of this as we rode on an overstuffed bus on the way to El Nido, Palawan. As we wound our way through an oasis of lush greenery, I could see verdant rice fields at varying stages of their growth cycle. The driver’s rosary hanging from the rear view mirror swayed in a circular pattern, mirroring the curving road.. I was grinning from ear to ear and giggling on the inside and from time to time laughing out loud as we hit a particularly poignant bump in the road that shook us all about like a martini.
A priceless soundtrack of old folk and rock songs from the 70’s blared out of the crackly bus speakers. The joyful melodies were irresistible and I found myself unable to resist singing along in my outside voice. This soundtrack was accented by quick bursts of the bus horn as the driver announced his presence at yet another blind corner. I was typing on my IPhone with one finger and making many errors as my finger and phone screen kept losing contact with one another. I was singing along to Dan Fogelberg’s “Leader of the Band” and suddenly the lyrics gave me such a heartfelt connection to my Mom. She was the leader of our family band and now I was being given the opportunity to carry on her legacy as I became “the living legacy of the leader of the band”.
The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument and his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band
(Dan Fogelberg, The Leader of the Band)
Time to Go
As I continued to delve into the lyrics I hit upon another line that resonated deeply with me about the relationship that had recently developed between my Mom and me.
I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go
(Dan Fogelberg, The Leader of the Band)
How beautiful it was that we had been able to see and accept each other's needs for the next steps of our individual beautywalks; mine to wander the world and hers to be at peace in her final resting place. We had grown to a place of connection and deep love for one another and we were able to offer each other the freedom and permission to decide ourselves when it was our time to go.
In the beginning of my travels with TrustedHouseSitters my Mom would text me on a regular basis asking me when I was coming home. I’m not sure if she came to understand the pang of guilt this triggered in me, but over time her appeals to come home shifted to messages of inspiration and encouragement. In the end, she expressed a complete peace with my travels and this simple shift made me feel seen and heard. She commended me on the courage that it had taken to let go of everything I had known and to venture out on my own into a brand new world. A world where Sandra Butel was no longer Boss Lady but was this newly emerging golden being of light and hope and empathy and service to others .
Bess and Joe say farewell to Roderick AVE by Sandra Butel
Keep in Touch
Her last words to me were, “Keep in touch.” These were the words she would say at the end of each of our phone calls and text messages as I grew into my new life. These were the words that held me and hugged me even while they were generously letting me go.
I intend to do just that; keeping the beauty of her spirit near to my heart and allowing her essence to flow through me to add one more drop of kindness and love to all those I come in contact with. I will focus my attention and my intention on seeing the gift and the beauty in the sights and experiences and people that cross my path day by day. This will be my way of keeping in touch with her spirit and carrying her memory with me wherever my beautywalk may take me.
I am Sandra Butel and this is my beautywalk. What’s yours?
Keep in Touch. Photo by Francis Marchildon
Resources for Further Study and Personal Growth
If you want to read more about my Mom’s beautiful life here is a link to her online obituary. https://leaderpost.remembering.ca/obituary/elizabeth-butel-1089264996
If you are grieving the loss of someone special in your life there are many resources available to help you through this very difficult time. Talking to a counsellor or a coach has been a great help to me throughout the many losses in my life and I am confident that there is a kind and patient human out there just waiting to be of service to you in your grief. If you want to take a chance and reach out to me I would be glad to take a coach approach with you as you take the first shaky steps into a new life after loss. First session is free.
A book that I found particularly impactful was David Kessler’s “Finding Meaning: The Sixth Stage of Grief” where he expands on his work with Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in a meaningful way.
For those of you over 50 who would like a trip down memory lane - check out Dan Fogelberg’s Leader of the Band
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