I am a person who likes to analyze things... I am always looking at the UNDERLYING reasons for everything. It is part of the equation for me... and I like it when all my equations are completely solved. I never realized how MUCH I love math... not until I became an adult.... and started to notice that I use math even when math doesn't seem like the answer... I count number of letters in words.. in names... I change everything into patterns. It is how my brain makes sense of this world. So in looking for patterns I analyze the WHYS of decisions that I make... to me there is a certainty of it all making sense if I can JUST FIND THE EQUATION.
It is a strange thing to see yourself as an analytical thinker... and a spiritualist. For many those things seem ALMOST at counter purposes. And yet... they are NOT. I am assistant Pastor of my church... I am a Morris Pratt student. I have made the firm resolve that I will be.... an ordained reverend in a few short years. I am well on my way to it... with my lowest grade being 97 percent NOT TOO SHABBY. But then I have always enjoyed being the student. If somehow being a student could be a VOCATION... I would have arranged for it years ago. So... being someone who questions the life around me... someone who is searching for answers... someone who is seeking to solve the equations that life presents us is not such a stretch. Spiritualism is a great fit for me because it resolves to be more than simply a religion. Spiritualism is firm in its purpose to be a religion yes... but also a philosophy and a SCIENCE! You begin perhaps to see why it appeals a little bit... for that highly analytical mind of mine that is looking for PROOF... Spiritualism says... " YES... let's prove Spirit in Action!" and has for a very long time set about doing just that. For every medium and every healer that is certified by the NSAC there is a necessary requirement of affidavits signed by the receiver of the message or healing saying that THIS HAS HAPPENED. I have received a healing from this person... I have gotten a message from the other side from this person. To me... this is a wonderful requirement. One that I was slightly nervous of as I started Morris Pratt.... but that I saw the need for. As I have gathered my OWN affadavits from people who say "YES YOUR MESSAGE OR HEALING WAS ON POINT!!!"It builds my confidence in my own ability... and it stands as a history of authenticity and accuracy. For my ever questioning mind... the continued proof stands as a testament to the TRUTH that is spoken. One of the things that I learned as I embarked on my learning about Spiritualism is that... many of the strongest supporters through history..... ACTUALLY started along the path of debunking Spiritualim. These individuals approached Spiritualism as skeptics with the INTENTION of finding the gimmick and ousting charlatans, only to find that the SCIENCE of Spiritualism and the PROOF of Spirit changed them to believers. I love this fact... I love it... because I have always been a seeker.... and to know that I am not ALONE gives me solace. To know that not only is my questioning not frowned upon... but it is supported and that it is ENCOURAGED gave me hope.
There is another reason that Spiritualism called to me: I am the mother of children on the other side. I was raised first in a Science of Mind church followed by Unity. I was a young adult when I first went to the Spiritualist camp with my parents. I read everything. I read books from Unity from Spiritualism From Eckankar to Wicca and Witta, to Hinduism and Buddhism. I never wanted a label other than being Spiritual. It wasn't until I had become a mother of Angels that I settled into one place. My choice was specific.. I went to Spiritualism because Mediumship is considered the work of GOD... and because those who are Mediums are often drawn to the Spiritualist church if they are looking for a congregation to join. I wanted direct communication with my little ones. I wanted to reach through that veil. I was not content with knowing that I will see them again someday soon... I wanted COMMUNION with them. I knew that Spiritualism would offer me that.
I was surprised when it offered me more though... MUCH MUCH MORE. I was surprised when my own mediumship ( which was strong with animals but not always Humans) became stronger. When that happened.. I was stunned. But when Spirit guided me into the place of offering a sermon I was stunned. When the opportunity to continue my education with Morris Pratt presented itself I jumped, nervous... but feeling that it was the right step for myself and my family. My husband was wildly supportive... and off I went.
Today I stand before people and I say with out hesitation... I AM a SPIRITUALIST... my voice does not shake. I also stand before others and say I AM A MEDIUM... looking those people proudly in the eye. This is a new self confidence... that has been offered to me by the church I attend, the congregation I am a part of, the learning I have opened myself to. And as I settle into who I am and how confident I am to voice it.... I settle into WHY I AM. because those sweet spirits are not apart from me... they are right with me. I don't need an intermediary I am capable of communicating with them myself.... and. ... .... Spiritualism did not GIVE me these gifts... .Spiritualism helped me to recognize my own potential and allow it to blossom.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Friday, September 18, 2015
September
They say what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.... I kind of feel that way about the month of September. I would say January too because that is when Aislynn passed... but somehow January doesn't hit me as hard... I am not sure why.
Today September 18th is my son Aidan's birthday. He would be 9. It is also the day that he passed... 9 years ago. I held him for a very short time on this earth. And it will never ever seem to be enough. Last Saturday I was crying on the phone with my mom as the dread of this day pressed on me. As I felt my breathing constrict already in preparation for this day. Last year my Gran passed on the 15th.,... of September. It didn't take any of us by surprise she had brain cancer... she was on hospice. The anniversary of her funeral is the 20th... Last year was a tough one. Only hours after crying on the phone with my mom... I got another call from her... My mother's sister was in the hospital and there wasn't long. My mom left in a hurry to be by her sister's bed. Aunt PJ is still hanging on... home now with Hospice... but I suspect there is going to be another reason for September to be hard before too much longer.
Oddly October also has a loss that is remembered... many many many months do... but September seems bigger somehow... maybe it is the weather change... maybe it is something deeper I don't know. It isn't like September doesn't have the days to celebrate... My Father's birthday... both of my Father-in-Laws' birtdays... two of my sister in laws birthdays. Many many friends birthdays. These are days to celebrate... days to be grateful for the people who are in my life. Still somehow September is melancholy ... still some how I brace for September and I feel like the other shoe is about to fall.
This year I had great plans... I was going to keep busy. I tried so hard... but friends were busy... So my husband took the day off... but his boss said " EH we need you buddy"... and our bank account said "HMM not such a great idea there". So we tried a different way... we decided to have him come home early... and I was going to keep busy by doing the Friday bank and grocery run... but... he needed the card that has our funds on it... so... I have nothing to do that with. So... we were going to decorate a tree at church... only it is rainy and stormy... and my youngest has a cold with a fever. ... ... ... Kind of feeling STALLED. I tried so hard to fill today.. to be busy... because I don't want to sit around just feeling... because feeling can turn to wallowing.. and I don't want to do that. Still... every attempt to fill today has been thwarted... and here I sit...
Still maybe there is a reason I sit here. Last Sunday I gave a sermon on plans... on how they change... and today I found this photo graphic on facebook:
A reminder... that we all have our dark times... but if you use them correctly... they help you to grow. And even in the day that My son died there were things to celebrate... not the least of which was his life.... that I have photos... that he took breath... that I held him while he did take breath. So I will take the lessons from this... and I will find a way to make the darkness light in my life.
My little boy... is missed... dearly dearly missed. and always will be. And this day... I am sad... very very sad. Most likely always will be, but today I search for ways to celebrate that life... even with the tears... even with the sadness. Today... I let it go... the guilt of still being alive... the need to live. The feeling that I let people down by not being over all of this... the feeling of guilt for not LIVING the grief. So many things that can crowd in... and none of it is ME... not at the core. So today... I washed my little girls hair.. and brushed it... such a relaxing way to spend time... and we are preparing to go to an indoor parrot exhibit... it isn't what we planned.... but plans change... they have to in order to keep up with life... and sometimes failed plans can make for an amazing experience. So I am holding out for that. And if my eyes fill with tears... it is okay... and if my heart smiles because of Ashlynn and Taryn... then... that is okay too. Because sadness is a feeling that comes... but a feeling that also goes when happiness knocks on the door. And because being aware of what is me and what is coming from outside helps me to be present in the moment..... and being present in the moment is what allows me to make a connection with my son... who is simply a thought away and who is always with me.
Thank you DR. Wayne Dyer from reaching through the veil to offer me a little bit of insight. So we head to the Lorikeet exhibit with the INTENTION of celebrating his life.... and his Spirit... and with the knowledge that as I AM spirit... I am never separated from a little boy who lived for such a short time. I love his essence and as I reach to him with the light of LOVE... he is there.
Today September 18th is my son Aidan's birthday. He would be 9. It is also the day that he passed... 9 years ago. I held him for a very short time on this earth. And it will never ever seem to be enough. Last Saturday I was crying on the phone with my mom as the dread of this day pressed on me. As I felt my breathing constrict already in preparation for this day. Last year my Gran passed on the 15th.,... of September. It didn't take any of us by surprise she had brain cancer... she was on hospice. The anniversary of her funeral is the 20th... Last year was a tough one. Only hours after crying on the phone with my mom... I got another call from her... My mother's sister was in the hospital and there wasn't long. My mom left in a hurry to be by her sister's bed. Aunt PJ is still hanging on... home now with Hospice... but I suspect there is going to be another reason for September to be hard before too much longer.
Oddly October also has a loss that is remembered... many many many months do... but September seems bigger somehow... maybe it is the weather change... maybe it is something deeper I don't know. It isn't like September doesn't have the days to celebrate... My Father's birthday... both of my Father-in-Laws' birtdays... two of my sister in laws birthdays. Many many friends birthdays. These are days to celebrate... days to be grateful for the people who are in my life. Still somehow September is melancholy ... still some how I brace for September and I feel like the other shoe is about to fall.
This year I had great plans... I was going to keep busy. I tried so hard... but friends were busy... So my husband took the day off... but his boss said " EH we need you buddy"... and our bank account said "HMM not such a great idea there". So we tried a different way... we decided to have him come home early... and I was going to keep busy by doing the Friday bank and grocery run... but... he needed the card that has our funds on it... so... I have nothing to do that with. So... we were going to decorate a tree at church... only it is rainy and stormy... and my youngest has a cold with a fever. ... ... ... Kind of feeling STALLED. I tried so hard to fill today.. to be busy... because I don't want to sit around just feeling... because feeling can turn to wallowing.. and I don't want to do that. Still... every attempt to fill today has been thwarted... and here I sit...
Still maybe there is a reason I sit here. Last Sunday I gave a sermon on plans... on how they change... and today I found this photo graphic on facebook:
A reminder... that we all have our dark times... but if you use them correctly... they help you to grow. And even in the day that My son died there were things to celebrate... not the least of which was his life.... that I have photos... that he took breath... that I held him while he did take breath. So I will take the lessons from this... and I will find a way to make the darkness light in my life.
My little boy... is missed... dearly dearly missed. and always will be. And this day... I am sad... very very sad. Most likely always will be, but today I search for ways to celebrate that life... even with the tears... even with the sadness. Today... I let it go... the guilt of still being alive... the need to live. The feeling that I let people down by not being over all of this... the feeling of guilt for not LIVING the grief. So many things that can crowd in... and none of it is ME... not at the core. So today... I washed my little girls hair.. and brushed it... such a relaxing way to spend time... and we are preparing to go to an indoor parrot exhibit... it isn't what we planned.... but plans change... they have to in order to keep up with life... and sometimes failed plans can make for an amazing experience. So I am holding out for that. And if my eyes fill with tears... it is okay... and if my heart smiles because of Ashlynn and Taryn... then... that is okay too. Because sadness is a feeling that comes... but a feeling that also goes when happiness knocks on the door. And because being aware of what is me and what is coming from outside helps me to be present in the moment..... and being present in the moment is what allows me to make a connection with my son... who is simply a thought away and who is always with me.
Thank you DR. Wayne Dyer from reaching through the veil to offer me a little bit of insight. So we head to the Lorikeet exhibit with the INTENTION of celebrating his life.... and his Spirit... and with the knowledge that as I AM spirit... I am never separated from a little boy who lived for such a short time. I love his essence and as I reach to him with the light of LOVE... he is there.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
I am a child loss survivor.
I am a child loss survivor. I have held in my arms children who I then had a funeral for. I am also a miscarriage survivor. I have held in my womb life that never took breath. I have ultrasound photos of children who were never " babies" and babies who were never " children." I am not alone. I am not the only one. I am the mother of two amazing little girls who are alive and well, who run and jump and play, and because I have these sweet girls here with me on this side I am not supposed to talk about their sister and brother. I am supposed to forget my children who have forged their path in the other world before me. I am supposed to remember that I have living babies... as if that makes up for ... THE OTHERS. It is an unwritten rule. A rule that you only come to understand when you have lost your little one. That... while you have had a tragic loss... you are NOT supposed to share it. You are to get over it and focus on the good.
I realized very quickly that I could NOT stay silent. Staying silent was driving me slowly insane. I realized that I felt guilty for my grief, a grief that will continue for the rest of my life, because I was supposed to be over it already. And yet I felt guilt at the thought of NOT feeling grief because... They were my children. MY CHILDREN. For those of you who have kids... look at them... and then... imagine they are gone. Forever... never ever to return to your arms in this life time. NOW... if you have more than one children... look at a DIFFERENT child and imagine how you are supposed to feel lucky because you have that child... maybe even hear some one say " well YES Jimmy is gone, but GEORGE over there is ALIVE. That makes it better." No... no it doesn't because George is NOT Jimmy and should never feel that he is a replacement for the other. What a terrible thing to do to George... AND Jimmy. Yes... you see. One is not and will never be a replacement for the other. It isn't fair to mommy or daddy either.
Infant loss is not actually all that rare, pregnancy loss is even LESS rare. I would be willing to guarantee that you know someone ( other than myself) who has suffered one or both. What is worse.. if you know a woman who has suffered it once... odds are... she has suffered it multiple times. Strangely when I refused to stop talking... when I got uppity and started remembering my babies posting photos on facebook and talking about them....I got 100% validation that I am not alone. I got women who I hadn't known had lost coming to me and saying... This is my story. When I started talking about it I started to get friends who asked if they could send other friends my way because she had just lost a baby.. she had just miscarried.. she needs some support and I know you have been there. This has happened because I have NOT sat silently... because I have worked actively to make those children a part of our family not a part of our dirty laundry that shouldn't be aired. The best part of being vocal and earning all of these friends who needed support... is that.... I have also been able to watch as miracles have happened... and mommy's have found their arms filled... sometimes with more than they had ever thought possible. I believe in miracles because I have watched them happen again and again. That is a pretty freaking awesome side benefit of making a new friend... one who knows how it feels to let go.
I personally cannot live in a place of constant grief. And living my life normally has gotten easier with the passage of time. Living a "normal" life however is not a life with out them. For myself IT CANNOT be. There is not a single day where I do not think of those babies. And I work actively to find a way to fit those little ones into my life in an every day way. I share them.. I say their names... I remember them. I have told my children who were born after them... about them... I have shared their names and birthdays with my living children. I cannot hide them away. Sharing them means facing grief waves at times... It means being filled with a soul deep sadness but it means riding those waves out, because I would rather be sad than forget them. I would rather face those waves... knowing that they may take my breath away... that they may cut my knees out from under me... but that it is worth it to remember MY CHILDREN.
A friend who I value greatly once told me that when she became facebook friends with me she was at first a little unsettled by how I share my little ones: By how I post about their short lives, about their birthdays, about how I as their mommy feel. She followed that up with the fact that as I shared more, she came to see our angels as a PART of our family... and it became less and less uncomfortable. This was without a doubt one of the most amazing things I have ever heard about our babies. Because it not only validated their LIVES... but my effort to make them a part of OUR lives.
It is coming... my Aidan's birthday. My birthday every year starts the ticker.... the clock that winds down to the anniversary of the first day... and the last day... that I held the only son I have. This year it will be his ninth birthday. Nine years... what would his nine year old self be doing? What would his birthday list look like? Because Ashlynn started hers in January... and it gets longer every week. What would he be like? A reader like myself... A tinkerer like his daddy? There are some answers I will never have. I will never know what it will be like to have a Christmas dinner with all of my children. I don't cry every day any more... but there are days that I always cry... and September 18 is one of them.... As I am faced with a lifetime of commemorating a birthday for a boy who isn't on this earth to celebrate it. I haven't gotten it right... yet.., but I have a lifetime to figure it out.
I realized very quickly that I could NOT stay silent. Staying silent was driving me slowly insane. I realized that I felt guilty for my grief, a grief that will continue for the rest of my life, because I was supposed to be over it already. And yet I felt guilt at the thought of NOT feeling grief because... They were my children. MY CHILDREN. For those of you who have kids... look at them... and then... imagine they are gone. Forever... never ever to return to your arms in this life time. NOW... if you have more than one children... look at a DIFFERENT child and imagine how you are supposed to feel lucky because you have that child... maybe even hear some one say " well YES Jimmy is gone, but GEORGE over there is ALIVE. That makes it better." No... no it doesn't because George is NOT Jimmy and should never feel that he is a replacement for the other. What a terrible thing to do to George... AND Jimmy. Yes... you see. One is not and will never be a replacement for the other. It isn't fair to mommy or daddy either.
Infant loss is not actually all that rare, pregnancy loss is even LESS rare. I would be willing to guarantee that you know someone ( other than myself) who has suffered one or both. What is worse.. if you know a woman who has suffered it once... odds are... she has suffered it multiple times. Strangely when I refused to stop talking... when I got uppity and started remembering my babies posting photos on facebook and talking about them....I got 100% validation that I am not alone. I got women who I hadn't known had lost coming to me and saying... This is my story. When I started talking about it I started to get friends who asked if they could send other friends my way because she had just lost a baby.. she had just miscarried.. she needs some support and I know you have been there. This has happened because I have NOT sat silently... because I have worked actively to make those children a part of our family not a part of our dirty laundry that shouldn't be aired. The best part of being vocal and earning all of these friends who needed support... is that.... I have also been able to watch as miracles have happened... and mommy's have found their arms filled... sometimes with more than they had ever thought possible. I believe in miracles because I have watched them happen again and again. That is a pretty freaking awesome side benefit of making a new friend... one who knows how it feels to let go.
I personally cannot live in a place of constant grief. And living my life normally has gotten easier with the passage of time. Living a "normal" life however is not a life with out them. For myself IT CANNOT be. There is not a single day where I do not think of those babies. And I work actively to find a way to fit those little ones into my life in an every day way. I share them.. I say their names... I remember them. I have told my children who were born after them... about them... I have shared their names and birthdays with my living children. I cannot hide them away. Sharing them means facing grief waves at times... It means being filled with a soul deep sadness but it means riding those waves out, because I would rather be sad than forget them. I would rather face those waves... knowing that they may take my breath away... that they may cut my knees out from under me... but that it is worth it to remember MY CHILDREN.
A friend who I value greatly once told me that when she became facebook friends with me she was at first a little unsettled by how I share my little ones: By how I post about their short lives, about their birthdays, about how I as their mommy feel. She followed that up with the fact that as I shared more, she came to see our angels as a PART of our family... and it became less and less uncomfortable. This was without a doubt one of the most amazing things I have ever heard about our babies. Because it not only validated their LIVES... but my effort to make them a part of OUR lives.
It is coming... my Aidan's birthday. My birthday every year starts the ticker.... the clock that winds down to the anniversary of the first day... and the last day... that I held the only son I have. This year it will be his ninth birthday. Nine years... what would his nine year old self be doing? What would his birthday list look like? Because Ashlynn started hers in January... and it gets longer every week. What would he be like? A reader like myself... A tinkerer like his daddy? There are some answers I will never have. I will never know what it will be like to have a Christmas dinner with all of my children. I don't cry every day any more... but there are days that I always cry... and September 18 is one of them.... As I am faced with a lifetime of commemorating a birthday for a boy who isn't on this earth to celebrate it. I haven't gotten it right... yet.., but I have a lifetime to figure it out.
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