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Wednesday, September 8, 2010

when i get to the other side

September 16 will be the one year anniversary of my mom's transition into Light.  She has been making her presence known for the past few days.

Last week, I went to lunch with daughter #1 who is getting married next October.  She wants to get married in Italy.  Mr. Friendly has been struggling with that request, understandably.  It's really far from here and you can't drive there not to mention the (ahem!) cost.  Note to 50-somethings:  save your money!  Last July, daughter #2 got married.  Mom was alive then.  She could not attend the wedding, but she bought THE DRESS.  Daughter #2 was a vision in it and Mom was delighted to gift it to her.  

When Mom died, she left me a small inheritance.  Since daughter #1 has been talking wedding in Italy, I've been saying, "And Mom will spring for the dress!"  That felt right and fair and I know Mom would be doing that herself if she were still in her body and had her hands on her check book! 

Back to Mr. Friendly and the balking.  Daughter # 2 visited San Antonio week before last for my birthday.  Over dinner I said, "We have to talk wedding with your sister.  I need details."  So, she and I grilled Daughter #1 over chips and salsa.  Daughter #1, who NEVER drinks at all, had two Coconut Margaritas (yuk! but like I said, she's not a drinker).  Daughter #2 had two real Margaritas.  I had too many glasses of iced tea.  But we got to the crux of it:  Daughter #1 is worried that she'll send out the "save the dates" and Mr. Friendly will flake and not actually spring for the Italian wedding.

Okay.  Now  we're getting somewhere.  And you're wondering what this has to do with Mom?  Back to lunch last week with Daughter #1.  It dawned on me that the price of a dress might go a long way toward a trip for two to Italy (did I mention that THE DRESS was a vision?).  I mentioned this possibility with some trepidation as Daughter #1 has a clear vision of what an Italian wedding looks like and I wasn't sure that the dress could be forgone.

I worked up my courage and after lunch, I ventured the plan:  I (Mom and Granddaddy too, to be fair, as he died 29 days after Mom last year and also left me a small inheritance) will give you the same "dress-money" as we gave your sister, plus a little so, no matter what, you can go to Italy and get married there.

She loved it.  She said, "That feels really good (knowing now she can go and if Mr. Friendly cowboys up for non-essentials like a dress, a photographer, a small reception, so be it).

As soon as I told her, tears began to stream down my face.  As I said, "I know Mom will like this too," I began to bawl and so did Daughter #1.  The whole truck filled with super-powered love, the kind that swirls and lifts and zooms around.  I began to shake.  I knew Mom was there and dancing a jig!  Daughter #1 hopped out of the truck, renewed with hope of her dream coming true.  

Now that's a grandmother's dream too, right?  So, just in case I had any doubt that Mom was totally "IN," on the way home the scent of Pine filled the truck.  That's the scent she and I agreed her Spirit would have, if she had a choice.  I'd sensed it over and over again, first on the morning of the day she died and then for weeks after her transition, but I haven't sensed it for some time now until that day last week.  Wow.  I began to cry again,  these tears a brew of bitter-sweet melancholy and joy.  I do miss her so.

Even though I have not sensed the aroma of her Spirit much lately, all sense that I do get of her is deep peace and assurance.  Last night I was aware of her Spirit in meditation.  I was feeling down.  I spoke to her, asking for "help."  A few seconds passed and then a song by Walela came to mind from a CD I'd given her a few years ago and which I played some during her memorial:  "And when I get to the other side, I'm gonna put on my wings and fly...."  Wow.  I wasn't thinking of that song at all and then there it was in my head, just that line.  I smiled.  "So, did you put on your wings and fly?" I asked.  The thought, "yes, yes I did" came back.  "Good," I said, "Good."  "Can you hear me?"  I asked.  The thought, "yes, yes I can."  "I really need some help," I said.  The thought, "I am here, but I am not The Christ.  Pray to The Christ."  

Ahhh!  She's still working on me from "the other side" and she's still here for me as she always said she would be.  

Apparently, the veil really is very thin.

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