Sunday, August 24, 2014

Day 85: Never Forget

Today I was standing in the kitchen of our share house in Westhampton, cleaning up from breakfast and the weekend and getting ready to go to the beach. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and it was otherwise a normal, beautiful day.

I was alone with Ginger, and Shawn had left his computer on the table, playing a random playlist of songs on Spotify. A song started to play and it made me stop what I was doing. It was a song I have only heard a few times in my life; a song that was popular when my mom was young, which I last heard played as part of a slideshow at my aunt's memorial service two years ago. I don't believe in coincidences, but I do believe in messages from "the other side." Stop reading now if you just rolled your eyes -- I'm about to take this post into Long Island Medium territory.

I believe that the song was a message from my aunt. She picked a quiet time, when I was alone and in a contemplative mood, to send me a little sign that only I would recognize as her saying hello. I don't know why she chose to reach out to me today in that way, but it made me feel her presence with me. It reminded me that she is by my side always, caring for me and my loved ones, watching over us. And, of course, I started crying hysterically. I don't know how to process these memories. I wish they made me feel happy and loved, which is how I think my deceased loved ones intend them, but the pain of their loss is still too fresh. I am instantly filled with an immediate and deep feeling of loss and sadness. I don't know when this will go away. I don't think it ever will. Today, in the middle of a beautiful day in a beautiful house, I cried and cried until it felt like I could never stop.The crying didn't make me feel better, I just kept feeling worse and worse.

I don't go searching from messages from the beyond, but I'm certain they are everywhere. On September 11 every year in NYC, to me the air feels heavy with them. When I was planning my wedding last year, I felt the love and support from my late grandmothers and my aunt all around me, in ways I could not express, but felt comforted by. These feelings make me miss the people who I have lost more, but it helps me to never forget them.

Beach day with my mom, aunt and cousin 20+ years ago

The last time I got a message from my aunt, loud and clear, was at my wedding. That was exactly one year and one week ago today, so maybe that explains why she chose today to send me another message. At my wedding, just a few minutes after Shawn and I exchanged vows, I tripped over the train of my dress and went tumbling down a steep stone staircase. I landed in soft grass with just a couple scrapes and bruises -- I didn't even have grass stains on my dress. It was a miracle that I wasn't more badly injured. I was shaken, but I managed to regroup and I tried to act like nothing had happened. Minutes later, my entire extended family gathered nearby because we were going to take photos together. I looked into the crowd, where all my cousins and aunts and uncles were gathered. Without thinking, I looked quickly for my aunt. Before I could self-correct and remind myself that she is no longer with us, I swear I saw her. Maybe it was the sunset that clouded my vision. Or maybe my adrenaline was pumping and I wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe I saw one of her daughters and thought, for a split second, that it was her.

I was hesitant to share these experiences here, in this public forum. But the truth is, I don't care if you believe me or not. I know what I saw and I know what I feel. I still often feel the presence of my loved ones who are no longer here in the physical world. The next time you find yourself in a quiet moment, take a deep breath and listen closely to the world around you -- and you might feel a message from your departed loved ones, too.

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