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Gender: Female
Member since: Fri Nov 26, 2004, 04:56 AM
Number of posts: 27,711

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how sad. it's always a tragedy

when we lose someone we love.
i'm so sorry.

it's hard saying 'goodbye for now' to a mom

they are the ones who knew us first
the one we've known the longest in our life

much sympathy

thank you kesha.

it was a hard day. but that was expected.


i had a great aunt who was a nun--born in the early 1900s or late 1800s (i forget). when she died they sent her prayer book to my grandmother. there was a poem on a small piece of paper inside the book. because i was always writing poetry my grandma gave me the poem and asked me what it meant.

it was a love poem--and not about god or jesus.

there were several veiled "clues" in the poem--and i even got out a map to try and figure out one of the lines.

as it turned out--
my great aunt (the nun) had fallen in love with another nun, and they kept their relationship secret/private. the other nun was finally transfered somewhere else and they were separated. my great aunt was pinning for the love of her life.

it was a beautiful poem--heartbreaking actually--

but how wonderful she had, at least, found someone for a little while to give her heart to.

what you said got me thinking

"On Long Island Medium, it becomes apparent that they are searching as hard for a way to reach us as we are searching for a means to reach them."

during my mom's last couple of hours i told her i didn't know how i would do it but that i would find her again someday. she asked me hopefully, "do you really think so?" and i said yes, absolutely.

turns out she found me first!

btw--i watch that show every week.

i'm sorry about your dad's passing

--there doesn't seem to be a good expression for such a thing--

if i said "my condolences on the loss of your father"--that wouldn't be accurate because i don't believe you have lost him except in the physical sense.

i believe those who have "passed on" have "passed on" or "crossed over" to another dimension and they are able to continue to see us/be with us/hear us. i don't believe they miss us at all because they are still around us.

some people pray for their loved ones--i believe we can still talk to them and that they can, and do, hear us. they listen, they watch, they "whisper" to us (even if we don't consciously hear them) and try to help us and communicate messages to us.

i believe they give us signs in order to communicate with us when we ask for them and even when we don't ask. with my mom--for the first number of months--i didn't think to ask for signs--all i could think of was "she's gone, she's gone, she's gone!" i was so bereft. and my mother was probably thinking "i'm still here! pay attention!"

and in my private hysterics one time there was a loud bang on the outside of the house which snapped me out of it. i went outside to see what had hit the side of the house. there was nothing there.

another time i was sobbing and i heard a crash in my daughter's bedroom. my daughter had gone back to college three days before and her door was closed. the sound snapped me out of my hysterical state and i went to investigate, finding a heavy container had fallen off a footstool in her room.

and the first time i sat down to read anything (about five months after my mom "left" i was reading the book "we don't die" when the light flashed on and off at the same time there was a knocking sound on the wall behind the couch--this was done in a pattern of two knocks and then five with the light flashing off and on each time. when i realized i hadn't blown a fuse it occurred to me that the knocking was the reverse of a "signal" we used for each other (the "shave and a haircut--two bits) which my mom and i used to let each other know it was us on the other side of a door. and on the other side of the wall where the knocking came from was my mom's bedroom.

definitely look. and listen. and tell your dad to give you a sign that he's still near.

it's been really hard for me adjusting to my mom's physical absence because we lived together and i miss her in this house, in my day-to-day existence where i could see her.

because of her physical death we were forced to enter into a new phase in our relationship--and i've come to understand that, in spite of her lack of physical presence, our relationship continues and so does our love for each other.

love doesn't die and apparently neither do we--not really. but losing someone from this physical dimension that we are currently in can be the hardest thing in the world. and because of that you have my deepest sympathy.

it happened again today!

before i left the house i asked my mom for another sign
backing out of the driveway, i asked again
driving down the street i thought about these license plates i've seen lately--one was "mom," one was an unusual nickname my daughter called her, and one was an obscure nickname i called her.
i thought--"well, i guess i've seen them all. now i just need to see a license plate with your name on it."

so--about ten/fifteen minutes later, as i was listening to an emerson, lake and palmer song called "from the beginning" as i sat in a traffic jam and decided to move into the right lane that seemed to be moving a bit, the line from the song said:
"you see it's all clear,"
and i looked at the plate on the car in front of the car i had just been behind moments ago... and it was my mom's name!

and the song continued, "you were meant to be here..."

and i burst into tears.
it was her name! not a popular name by any means--and there were no extra letters or numbers on the plate.
just her name.....

"...from the beginning."

thank you, mom, for all the signs you give me that let me know that you are here--reaching out to me across the dimensions. please don't stop.

very touching

how wonderful she made the connection between his words and the hearts she sees and how wonderful that she is in the right place at the right time to notice them.

i told my daughter this and added that i can't recall ever noticing a heart shaped cloud. my daughter, who always tries to look for the logical explanation first rather than the supernatural/spiritual explanation, replied: "yeah, but you're not looking for hearts--and how often do you look at the clouds?"

i told her that her grandpa frequently commented on the cloud formations and when i'm out and about i have a tendency to notice them and think of my dad (sometimes thinking "he would love seeing this." and i don't recall noticing a heart shaped cloud. ever.

sometimes i think those who have passed simply whisper in our ear to get us to turn our head and look and notice. what i mean is that i don't think your brother actually made the cloud form a shape like a heart--instead, i think he compelled his daughter to look up and notice it when she did--thereby making the connection.

what a lovely thing for him to say to her--what a perfect symbol for him to have left her with.

maybe getting messages/signs is dependent

on the closeness or type of relationship we had with someone. (the closer you were the more someone on the other side is compelled to communicate? maybe it is something to that effect.)

through the years i've lost a number of people in my life. but out of all the aunts, uncles, grandmas, friends, etc. i've had very limited experiences. i only remember one a.d.c. from my father and two visitation dreams where his physical health was first improving and then when he was completely healed. and i had one a.d.c. from one of my grandmothers--who i was very close to and who lived with us--shortly after she passed.

but for two and a half years it seems i have been so fortunate for having gotten so many from my mother that i can't even count them anymore. but we lived together for years and were the best of friends. i've never been as close to anyone as i was with her--and this period in my life has been the most difficult/devastating i've ever experienced.

a couple hours before my mom passed--and we were together just waiting for the inevitable--i said to her, "i don't know how but i will find you again." she looked at me sadly and asked, "do you really think so?" and i told her yes, i really do. and i did feel that way. so strongly--because while i was telling her it was okay to let go (from this life and this body) i just felt there was no way we were going to be completely separated forever.

and as it turned out--she found me first. and i am so grateful for that.

yet in all this time i have not had a single dream of her that i can recall. i think of her each night before i fall asleep, i tell myself to dream of her or to go and see her but i don't remember a single one. i read that perhaps one of the reasons we don't have a visitation dream is for our own benefit--being that we wouldn't want to get out of bed or we'd want to sleep all the time with the hope of seeing them again. which would possibly be the case with me--especially during that first year and a half.
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