A Message from the Other Side

I had been told that sometimes, when you are grieving, you dream of the person you've lost.  I've never had that experience...until last night.

Last night I dreamed (this does sound like the opening to Rebecca) that my mother visited me.  She was seated on a sofa and I was kneeling at her feet.  We talked about things I can't remember, but what I do remember is looking directly into her eyes and thanking her for coming back one last time to see me.

She then held out her hand with two Mass cards. (For those of you who aren't Catholic, a Mass card is card presented to a person telling them that you had a Mass said for them or someone they love.) The cards both had written on them very clearly "May 12," which is the date of my father's death.

I got the sense that she wanted me to have Masses said on that day, which I will.  Then, as I watched, she gradually got younger and younger, her hair growing darker and her features becoming more youthful until, she before she disappeared, she had long dark brown hair, just as she did when I was born.

And then I left my hypnogogic state and came fully awake.

Was it a dream? Or did my mother really visit me?

I'm not sure, but there's one more thing that happened yesterday that was unusual.  My mother was one of the most disorganized people in the world.  Everything was jumbled and tossed randomly and now much of it is in boxes in my garage.  Unsorted boxes which could contain anything from check statements from 1952 to the last napkin she used and stuck into her purse.

I felt compelled to go out there yesterday afternoon and, as I stood in the middle of the boxes, tears streaming down my face, I cried out:  "What is it you want me to find, Mother?"

I then opened a bag that had some keys and coin purse and piece of paper with her distinctive characteristically beautiful handwriting:

St. Jude Thaddeus, Known to help us and (I) pray that my daughter never lose heart when the way has so many pitfalls and God guides her step as she is shown the way....Let her know this will not be the true and final case....

I'm not quite sure what to make of it all, but I have the distinct impression that I've been given a message from my mother.

Tear Soup

Sometimes the best resources are written for children.

I went to a Bereavement Counselor today and read Tear Soup. 

I can't recommend it enough for anyone who is griefwalking.

Radio Silence Grief

I have discovered a new stage of grief.  I didn't know it was phase until a widow friend told me it was: the quiet time. 

I find myself withdrawing into silence, into myself.  I don't want to talk to people, go out, see anyone.  I just want to be alone...in my own inner being. I don't want to remember out loud or share.  I am griefwalking in radio silence.

It's rather odd, actually.  It feels like introversion to the nth degree and while I am an introvert at heart, this is extreme even for me.

My friend says that it's just a stage and it will pass.

I wonder what other surprise stages are waiting for me.

This is me.  I can immediately leap to the worst possible conclusion.

Pain in my shin? 
Cancer of the bone!!!

Higher than expected heat bill?
Foreclosure on my house!!!

Haven't heard from my son in a few days?
Dead in a car accident!!!!

It's a talent.

Sunday Gratitude

Just before my mother died, I was beginning to use Sunday's posts to list things I was grateful for.  I sort of fell off the gratitude stool into the grief pit, but today I'm making an effort to be grateful. It might not be bouncing up and down with whoop de do joy, but it's a start. 

And a start is the best I can do right now.


1. For primroses that survived since last spring.

2. For chocolate ice cream.









3. For a bit of sunshine today.

4. For the prayers of friends.

5. For Simply Lemonade.