Home for a Family of the Opioid Crisis
Donation protected
* * * Trigger warning. What follows deals with suicidal ideation and a mental health related death. Please exercise care if choosing to read this and seek help if you need it. You are not alone. * * *
In the weeks after my husband died, I would wander the house looking around at things, discerning what was most essential. What was essential to life. At that time we were still in our family home, the home we'd moved across the country to, looking out over the Georgia Straight, atop a forested bluff on Pender Island on BC's Pacific Northwest Coast. Sandbox in the yard. Two young kids and one on the way, growing eagerly in my swelling belly. Gardens abloom, a young orchard just beginning to bear fruit. We'd been lucky. We lived with challenges, but we had been doing well.
Stability was always a process and true steadiness just beyond reach. Living with my husbands Bipolar Disorder type 1 was a pendulum of ok, ok for now, and not ok. Out of the blue we could go from a "normal", functioning family to having conversations about "next options" in suicidal moments. The options were never great. Pharmaceuticals were a safety net but the balance of it was imperfect.
My husband Michael Stone was a Buddhist teacher with a large following and international recognition. He authored numerous books. He was an expert of working with mental states because he navigated his constantly; the expansive glimmering haunt of an incredible neurodiverse mind. He had all the tools, and was working hard to remain above water. His outlook was usually good, he would talk about how he would continue because of the kids. He would never, ever, succumb to the dark and leave the kids. Despite how he died I know this was true. He would never from his right mind leave any of us.
The spring of 2017 was unforgiving. A pile of of stressors in our life culminated in a spiral for Michael that swung downwards in the months before his death. Even though things were obviously increasingly difficult, the good moments were very good, and the possibility of making it through this time always felt believable. Somewhere between those thoughts and July 13, 2017 Michael became desperate. He slipped out of a "normal" state of mind. He felt opioids could bring him the relief he needed, and he secretly stopped his medication regimen and sought to self medicate. He was found unresponsive in Victoria BC on July 14th and declared brain dead hours later. Fentanyl poisoning. His body kept working for three days on life support before contributing two kidneys and both lungs to three different people whose lives continue and for which we are forever grateful.
In those early days after, I decided that the most important things in life were ephemeral. Childhood. Relationships. Ritual things that burn, that create aroma and space and a somatic ripple. Aromatics. Fire. The light through the plumb tree casting dancing shadows on our bedroom walls. The body, even. Humour.
Maybe this helped me accept the groundlessness and rupture, and knowing that our home was not for keeping. We'd have to move. There was no will, and I was not on the deed (oops!). I kept telling myself that the limbo was ok, the transience was ok, that we could navigate anything moving forwards together as a family with Michael in the background, in the ether, in dreams and in synchronicity.
We are now, today, a month beyond the three year mark. I have partnered with Jude, a friend of Michael's and a miracle of a being who swept into our lives in the months after Ezra, my third baby, was born. The the kids affectionately call Jude Judy and we joke that they have a Mama, a Papa and a Jude. The estate process continues, as these things go sometimes. Due to covid and everything shutting down, including the courts that approve Estate accounting which is our final step, the Estate process has seriously stalled. We are living in a small suite above my parents garage on Saltspring Island. We were able to secure 5 acres of land on this island in part from the support of a GoFundMe Campaign in the weeks after Michael died. We look forward to building a small home there when the Estate wraps up. Jude has 27 years of carpentry experience and has built all kinds of things from boats to galleries, cabinetry and an urn.
We've been lucky to be hosted by my parents for this long haul. Their continued support in this way is immense. And we really, desperately need a way to step forwards on our own. It's painful to speak to how much we need this. This campaign feels like a big ask. We need help to build our family a home. A home for now home. Until we can take a more solid step.
Inspired by the ingenuity of the Tiny House movement, we recently went on an epic pandemic camping trip to Cranbrook to look at an RV we had our eyes on that we imagined we could renovate to live in on our land while we prepare to settle there. All the way to Cranbrook everything went badly. Some of us got sick. The brakes failed. The kids were at their wits ends. Then finally arriving in Cranbrook, the RV we were sure would be the solution was a dud. We were despondent. That night the kids fell asleep and I hit a wall. Again, another end. Jude was reassuring. I lay on my side in the dark and made a quiet wish to Michael. Come on Michael, we need you. Help us get a home. We need this so much. If you can pull any strings, this is the time. The next morning Jude woke me up, "I found an RV. It's in Kamloops, it looks perfect, and look," Jude showed me the listing. The RV photos showed a Buddha on the kitchen counter, and the number 42 on the exterior door, like a made up address. Our eyebrows raised in unison. Michael was 42 when he died. This year Jude is 42. We hit the road to Kamloops.
Two days later we purchased the 30' Class C Motorhome and began our journey home up and down the mountains, into valleys and across ferries. What's next? What's possible? What do we need? What's most essential?
We have a plan, and we need your help. It's a sound vehicle, mechanically it's perfect and well maintained. Inside, it needs an overhaul. We can lift the ceiling to gain vertical space by a whopping 3 feet which is huge in a tiny home. With five beings to house, this means we can stack beds into bunks that leaves us with 15 precious feet lengthwise for kitchen and dining. This is important. We will build the walls to improve indoor air quality by using healthy insulation and materials, and reinforce them to withstand high vibrations. We'll improve safety by installing proper seat belts for the kids and rewiring some wacky nests of cables and transformers. We need a propane range, a fridge, a composting toilet and an instant hot water heater.
Jude's background in boat building and decades of cabinet making mean we can approach this project like both of those things- like a boat and like a cabinet. Strong, light, and designed to utilise all the nooks. We are currently demolishing the interior and prepping to take the walls down so we are ready to continue. To really jump in we need help to know we can finish the project.
We had some family support, and emergency funds to draw on which made it possible to purchase the Motorhome, which we got for a great deal. We live on Child Tax Benefits and a stipend from work I do to support Michael's online offerings, and CERB for Jude for now; when that ends our income will remain tenuous. I have PTSD which has worsened this year, and this limits how much Jude can leave the house to work. I'm getting better, and it's a slow path. I am hopeful that a place that feels like home will help me heal.
We estimate that this rebuild would cost approximately $20,000. We can do all the labour ourselves, so these are material costs. We would have a mobile home, that we can take to our land, where we can build outdoor living infrastructure (decks, a bathtub and outdoor shower) to make it very liveable while the Estate wraps up and then while we build a home with a foundation. With the Motorhome we can even drive across the country some day to visit family in Ontario and Montreal.
Please consider contributing to this fundraiser and sharing this campaign on your social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram) to help us reach our goal and begin building. Any funds above our goal or that aren't used in the build will go towards infrastructure at our land (a septic system would enable us to be properly set up there and the cost is about 25k).
Thank you from Carina, Jude, Dolphin, Hudson and Ezra.
I can't speak for him, but I imagine from Michael too.
In the weeks after my husband died, I would wander the house looking around at things, discerning what was most essential. What was essential to life. At that time we were still in our family home, the home we'd moved across the country to, looking out over the Georgia Straight, atop a forested bluff on Pender Island on BC's Pacific Northwest Coast. Sandbox in the yard. Two young kids and one on the way, growing eagerly in my swelling belly. Gardens abloom, a young orchard just beginning to bear fruit. We'd been lucky. We lived with challenges, but we had been doing well.
Stability was always a process and true steadiness just beyond reach. Living with my husbands Bipolar Disorder type 1 was a pendulum of ok, ok for now, and not ok. Out of the blue we could go from a "normal", functioning family to having conversations about "next options" in suicidal moments. The options were never great. Pharmaceuticals were a safety net but the balance of it was imperfect.
My husband Michael Stone was a Buddhist teacher with a large following and international recognition. He authored numerous books. He was an expert of working with mental states because he navigated his constantly; the expansive glimmering haunt of an incredible neurodiverse mind. He had all the tools, and was working hard to remain above water. His outlook was usually good, he would talk about how he would continue because of the kids. He would never, ever, succumb to the dark and leave the kids. Despite how he died I know this was true. He would never from his right mind leave any of us.
The spring of 2017 was unforgiving. A pile of of stressors in our life culminated in a spiral for Michael that swung downwards in the months before his death. Even though things were obviously increasingly difficult, the good moments were very good, and the possibility of making it through this time always felt believable. Somewhere between those thoughts and July 13, 2017 Michael became desperate. He slipped out of a "normal" state of mind. He felt opioids could bring him the relief he needed, and he secretly stopped his medication regimen and sought to self medicate. He was found unresponsive in Victoria BC on July 14th and declared brain dead hours later. Fentanyl poisoning. His body kept working for three days on life support before contributing two kidneys and both lungs to three different people whose lives continue and for which we are forever grateful.
In those early days after, I decided that the most important things in life were ephemeral. Childhood. Relationships. Ritual things that burn, that create aroma and space and a somatic ripple. Aromatics. Fire. The light through the plumb tree casting dancing shadows on our bedroom walls. The body, even. Humour.
Maybe this helped me accept the groundlessness and rupture, and knowing that our home was not for keeping. We'd have to move. There was no will, and I was not on the deed (oops!). I kept telling myself that the limbo was ok, the transience was ok, that we could navigate anything moving forwards together as a family with Michael in the background, in the ether, in dreams and in synchronicity.
We are now, today, a month beyond the three year mark. I have partnered with Jude, a friend of Michael's and a miracle of a being who swept into our lives in the months after Ezra, my third baby, was born. The the kids affectionately call Jude Judy and we joke that they have a Mama, a Papa and a Jude. The estate process continues, as these things go sometimes. Due to covid and everything shutting down, including the courts that approve Estate accounting which is our final step, the Estate process has seriously stalled. We are living in a small suite above my parents garage on Saltspring Island. We were able to secure 5 acres of land on this island in part from the support of a GoFundMe Campaign in the weeks after Michael died. We look forward to building a small home there when the Estate wraps up. Jude has 27 years of carpentry experience and has built all kinds of things from boats to galleries, cabinetry and an urn.
We've been lucky to be hosted by my parents for this long haul. Their continued support in this way is immense. And we really, desperately need a way to step forwards on our own. It's painful to speak to how much we need this. This campaign feels like a big ask. We need help to build our family a home. A home for now home. Until we can take a more solid step.
Inspired by the ingenuity of the Tiny House movement, we recently went on an epic pandemic camping trip to Cranbrook to look at an RV we had our eyes on that we imagined we could renovate to live in on our land while we prepare to settle there. All the way to Cranbrook everything went badly. Some of us got sick. The brakes failed. The kids were at their wits ends. Then finally arriving in Cranbrook, the RV we were sure would be the solution was a dud. We were despondent. That night the kids fell asleep and I hit a wall. Again, another end. Jude was reassuring. I lay on my side in the dark and made a quiet wish to Michael. Come on Michael, we need you. Help us get a home. We need this so much. If you can pull any strings, this is the time. The next morning Jude woke me up, "I found an RV. It's in Kamloops, it looks perfect, and look," Jude showed me the listing. The RV photos showed a Buddha on the kitchen counter, and the number 42 on the exterior door, like a made up address. Our eyebrows raised in unison. Michael was 42 when he died. This year Jude is 42. We hit the road to Kamloops.
Two days later we purchased the 30' Class C Motorhome and began our journey home up and down the mountains, into valleys and across ferries. What's next? What's possible? What do we need? What's most essential?
We have a plan, and we need your help. It's a sound vehicle, mechanically it's perfect and well maintained. Inside, it needs an overhaul. We can lift the ceiling to gain vertical space by a whopping 3 feet which is huge in a tiny home. With five beings to house, this means we can stack beds into bunks that leaves us with 15 precious feet lengthwise for kitchen and dining. This is important. We will build the walls to improve indoor air quality by using healthy insulation and materials, and reinforce them to withstand high vibrations. We'll improve safety by installing proper seat belts for the kids and rewiring some wacky nests of cables and transformers. We need a propane range, a fridge, a composting toilet and an instant hot water heater.
Jude's background in boat building and decades of cabinet making mean we can approach this project like both of those things- like a boat and like a cabinet. Strong, light, and designed to utilise all the nooks. We are currently demolishing the interior and prepping to take the walls down so we are ready to continue. To really jump in we need help to know we can finish the project.
We had some family support, and emergency funds to draw on which made it possible to purchase the Motorhome, which we got for a great deal. We live on Child Tax Benefits and a stipend from work I do to support Michael's online offerings, and CERB for Jude for now; when that ends our income will remain tenuous. I have PTSD which has worsened this year, and this limits how much Jude can leave the house to work. I'm getting better, and it's a slow path. I am hopeful that a place that feels like home will help me heal.
We estimate that this rebuild would cost approximately $20,000. We can do all the labour ourselves, so these are material costs. We would have a mobile home, that we can take to our land, where we can build outdoor living infrastructure (decks, a bathtub and outdoor shower) to make it very liveable while the Estate wraps up and then while we build a home with a foundation. With the Motorhome we can even drive across the country some day to visit family in Ontario and Montreal.
Please consider contributing to this fundraiser and sharing this campaign on your social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram) to help us reach our goal and begin building. Any funds above our goal or that aren't used in the build will go towards infrastructure at our land (a septic system would enable us to be properly set up there and the cost is about 25k).
Thank you from Carina, Jude, Dolphin, Hudson and Ezra.
I can't speak for him, but I imagine from Michael too.
Organizer and beneficiary
Carina Stone
Organizer
Salt Spring Island, BC
Jude Farmer
Beneficiary