In March 2004, I was back from some travels and broken-hearted over the end of a love affair. My former colleague Angus offered me a suite in his family home and a small UBC contract to get me going again.  It was my beloved nephew, Geoffrey, the son of my brother Marc and his former wife, my dear friend Mo, that moved me into that little suite at Angus’ when I was so sad and disoriented. To Geoff it was a ‘no-brainer’—of course he would help—and I remember how grateful I felt, and proud to have such an amazing nephew, and with a truck!

Two months later, on May 5th—Cinco de Mayo—Geoff died at just thirty years old. I was already in therapy but this devastating blow to our family sent me into deeper confusion. I wanted to understand Geoff’s death somehow. Over the coming months I began the therapeutic use of entheogens, defined as “substances, typically of plant origin, that produce non-ordinary states of consciousness.”

A year later I travelled to South America and began working with the powerful plant medicine ayahuasca, wishing Geoff could have done the same and thinking that he might still be with us if he had. It wasn’t until last week, after visiting with one of Geoff’s oldest friends, Duncan, that I learned that Geoff had known about ayahuasca and was curious, but hadn’t chosen to make the trek.

Mo shares a story from when Geoff was a little boy—maybe seven or eight years old. They were on a camping trip and the two of them had gone for a hike. As they walked back along the trail Geoff kicked a small stone off the path. He asked her, “Mom, if I hadn’t kicked that stone, would everything still be the same?” Mo replied, “I’m sorry Geoff, I just don’t know the answer to that.”

Geoff loved talking about philosophy. Duncan described him as the most curious person he’s ever known—and the best company. But it was Geoff’s humour and honesty that Duncan returned to repeatedly, and the depth and intelligence with which Geoff embodied these qualities. They allowed him to put people at ease and genuinely connect with them, even in potentially difficult circumstances. It was quite a gift. 

This past Sunday I attended a family constellation workshop. This powerful healing modality emerged in the early 70s through the work of German psychotherapist, Bert Hellinger. He discovered that people are linked to an invisible field he calls the Knowing Field, and that this field can be accessed to provide information that was previously hidden or unknown. Once revealed the information can induce healing, not only for the individual but for his or her entire family system.

I brought my sorrow over losing Geoff to the constellation circle and during the process something started to shift. I realized that I had Geoff and Geoff’s death collapsed in my psyche somehow, and I couldn’t think of one without the other. That the pain of the loss had me push him away, too. In this regard, I had truly lost my beloved nephew.

I started to remember what he felt like, and how I felt around him. How much I loved his humour, his kindness, his tenderness, his steadfastness. And how much I truly missed him.

Geoff chose his path, or perhaps Geoff’s path chose him. He would believe the latter. It took him away from us far too soon and the repercussions of that are still palpable. But something inside me is feeling him again. Relating to him as the beautiful soul he is and always was. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.

Who have you lost touch with in your life, whose nature might be called back to you in some essential way?   Let me know, I’d love to hear!