Sending Love Into The Universe

 

I have just changed my life. It is Monday and I have just sent off a piece of the new me, courageous, CONFIDENT, CHANGE MY LIFE – ME into the universe, the big, bright blue sky.

 

Angel-wings

Angel-wings (Photo credit: johnb/Derbys/UK.)

 

Yes, I’m taking a chance at doing something different. At least, I am trying. I’m sending this with a hug and a wish out to the atmosphere, with the Spirits that I believe in, with my Angels and my Dad to help me when he can “there is only so much he can do. His hands are tied.” I don’t doubt that for a second, I trust you implicitly. Just so you know. I love to imagine that you are not in pain anymore and that I can almost hear you laugh, and I can practically stroke your soft, sweet face, I would smell the shaving cologne as strong as you used to splash on your neck.” The perfume factory.”

Angel

Angel (Photo credit: Stephie189)

I’m trying, to rev up, like the motors of the airplanes you used to love, worship. The rumbling has started within me. For the first time I am trying for lift-off instead of being grounded forever. I too, need a change. I need to get out of the shadows and into the sunlight and through my chronic pain. I can do that.

I know I come across as pure emotion but as you know, deep down inside me, I am very, very strong, I will come through. I can handle what the world gives me, I should certainly be able to handle change, a new direction, movement, and climbing out of my comfort zone. I will do it with Faith and Spirit on my side.

Let it begin. I’m Ready.

 

 

 

Miley Cyrus, The Climb

 

 

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Restless Spirit I

Restless Spirit I (Photo credit: Bill Liao)

I know if you could help me in any way, you would. There is no doubt in my mind, not a second’s hesitation that your “hands are tied.” Did you think I ever doubted that? No, not once. I know you would move the stars and the earth and the moon and the seas to help make sense of my life, to our life, to guide us on an easy path.

But, that’s not your job, I understand, really I do. You sent me signs and I was so grateful: a bird, our numbers, songs: My Immortal,by Evanescence, Dance With My Father Again, by Luther Vandross.

You knew I was there at the hospital everyday, you and I were the ones that counted. She remembers the day before you died but you did that on purpose, you wanted to see me laughing at you sticking out your tongue, how we heard over the loudspeaker that my car was about to be towed.

I miss you, Daddy, but I know you are with me.

I believe.

 

/photo credit Bill Liao

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All That Is Good: Roland Comtois

Angel Cloud - HDR

Angel Cloud – HDR (Photo credit: Free HDR Photos – http://www.freestock.ca)

I don’t idolize “celebrities” or “actors” like some people do, I need to know a person inside and out before I hand over my heart. However, there is one man who I absolutely adore and I have met him personally several times. His name is Roland Comtois, he is a Medium, receiving messages from the other side (those who have passed away) and giving them to those who have lost a loved one. I DON’T work for Roland nor do I sell his books or get a percentage of anything he sells. I just want you to know that I believe in him so much and that he is such an amazingly GOOD PERSON that I wanted to share his name with you.

He rarely does private meetings anymore but he so kind and gentle with a voice that sounds like angels playing their harps, like laughter in the heavens, like what pure honesty would sound like. I have never doubted him for a minute, except the first time I ever went to a gathering at Helen’s house (Starvisions) and he picked up on that and said out loud that I was there “checking him out.” So true.

Roland Comtois. He is a medium, with a heart and a spirit so open that I imagine dozens of white doves fly from his heart and pass his messages from those who have passed to those who are living. I was lucky enough to get two of those purple papers and Roland knew my name even though there were no name tags nor was he told in advance who was coming. He stood over me, with his soft, gentle eyes and addressed me, gave me a message from my father who had passed, and I burst into tears with joy and peace and love. I am the lucky recipient of two Purple Papers and I was the conduit for another woman in the audience.

His message is sweet and simple, we don’t NEED a medium to get messages from our loved ones, which I have always known. I do get messages on my own and have for years. But, for those that don’t, keep your heart open, ask for messages from your angels, from God, from the person you miss, directly, and be open to any sign that may come. Be patient and open and most of all, believe in yourself. The sign will may not be blatant like a photo or a picture, mine come in initials and numbers or music and birds. My first message, the most important one, came in the form of a luggage tag. Yes, it’s true.

Be aware of your surroundings and be open to love. I consider it an absolute privilege and honor to have met Roland in person. Thank you, world.

Special thanks to http://www.freestock.ca

Father’s Day Without Fathers

Potato Salad

For those of us whose fathers are deceased or for people who never knew their fathers at all, Father’s Day is tough. Just like Mother’s Day is for people who do not have a mother any longer or who did not know their mother. I am inundated with advertisements and gift suggestions to get my father: electronics, shavers, cologne, new tv sets, ties. I wish I could get my father a gift but I can’t, he is dead. People say “I lost my father ten years ago.” Lost somehow implies the possibility of him being found and unfortunately, we all know that is not true. I did not lose my father like a wallet or a cellphone, he died.

This isn’t a blog for ideas for gifts but rather a suggestion on what you might do to remember your father. Honor them, not with flowers or chocolates (unless your dad had a penchant for some special type of chocolate.) Honor them with your memories. I go to the cemetery around Father’s Day to pay my respects. to clean the gravestone, to rearrange the stones that adorn it, to talk to my dad. This year I went four weeks early because my mother was having a procedure done and I visited the cemetery at that time. It’s okay.  I gave thanks for him being there, in spirit, from signs and messages I received from him.  I knew he was watching, I knew he cared. I don’t doubt that for a second.

Make a collage if you like to do that, sit and sip your father’s favorite drink, eat food that you both used to love to eat; eat his favorite food (German potato salad) or something the two of you used to share. Share a memory with someone who cares or just tell it to yourself, or your sibling. Siblings add details to each other’s lives that perhaps one of you has forgotten. Talk to your dad, you can go to a quiet place or you can go to a favorite place that you used to go to with your dad,  it doesn’t matter. After you talk, listen. Be aware that you can get messages from those who have passed if your heart is open and YOU are open to receiving messages.

This year my son’s High School Graduation falls on Father’s Day. I couldn’t be happier. I know my dad will be there with his grandson that he adored. I know that he will be watching him cross the stage for his diploma. His spirit will be there with love and pride, of that I have no doubt. Love comes in many forms, in different ways; leave your mind and heart open and I guarantee, you will feel the love. It can be in a form of a soft breeze on your cheek, the shape of a heart in the clouds, a memory of a time that was special to you and your dad. Honor those who are no longer with you. Hold up a glass and make a toast to the past, to the person, to the memories that live in your heart.

ICD Jewelery Store – Meant To Be

This is a true story about how things sometimes work out the way they should. Oprah used to talk about that a lot.  Synchronicity, things happening because they are “meant to be.” Yesterday, I wrote a blog called “Saying Goodbye To Oprah” today I experienced what she has always talked about.

1) I had a new Doctor’s appointment and when I asked the new Doctor if she was ever in touch with the Doctor who had retired she said “in fact, I’m seeing him tonight.”  I asked her to please tell him about an article I wrote about the loss of my dear friend “Loving Dawn” that was published in a local magazine. She said she would but as I was about to leave I remembered I had copies in my trunk that I had just picked up from the editor the day before. I ran down and got the magazine, happy to show them.  No coincidence there.

2) I stopped by the florist to order my son’s girlfriend’s corsage, continued on to the library and decided to go to a shoe store.

3) I parked my car, (having no sense of direction whatsoever) where I thought the shoe store was. I couldn’t find it. It turned out that I parked in front of a store called ICD Jewelery. When I saw the name I remembered my son saying that he bought his girlfriend’s birthday present there. The door was held open and I decided to walk in and browse. In the past I had always assumed that it was just high-end stuff but it isn’t. It’s a wonderful combination of completely affordable jewelery AND beautiful expensive, sparkling pieces.

4) I  looked around keeping my daughter’s upcoming 17th birthday in mind, I even saw the lovely bracelet my son had bought. There were beautiful pieces in EVERY price range. After chatting with a nice woman named Sarah I softly said:  ” You are doing this store a disservice, you really should advertise more.” She smiled and said “can I repeat that?” I said “I guess so.” She called the owner over, an absolutely stunning and  beautiful woman (she should be a model) named Varda Singer and asked me to repeat my comment. I did, I asked where they advertised because I had no idea that this store sold things in all price ranges. I am the type of person that should live with focus groups. I try every new product, I can predict if something will work or not, I know “star” quality before others. If I really liked this store my friends would too. If I didn’t know about this store they probably didn’t either.

5) The owner, Varda, said “she pays so much in advertising in publications it’s sometimes not worth it.”  After talking with her about the jewelery, both high-end and inexpensive, she fell silent. She looked at me, took a gorgeous pink beaded bracelet off the display, handed it to me and said, “word of mouth: this is how I like to get people to the store.” Before I knew it she took the price tag off and presented the bracelet to me as a present.”If people like it and ask where you got it, you tell them.”  No one had ever given me a present like that and I was shocked.  I said “No, no, no, no… ” but she insisted and put it on my arm.

6) All she knew was that I was a mom window shopping for her daughter. She had no idea I wrote a blog.  We laughed and talked some more and out of the blue she threw in a Hebrew word that I recognized immediately.  The word “Beshert” it’s meaning:  “meant to be” or “destiny.”

7) I told them I wanted to blog about this experience (I am not a paid employee nor am I a sponsor or a PR agent and I am not getting any kind of kickback!)  I asked Varda if we could tie this special day in with my blog. If people read this blog and wanted to go to the store, perhaps they could get a $5 dollar discount? She thought about it, shook her head and said with a smile said:”please tell people that if they just drop by the store and mention your blog, they will get a free “bracelet” too.”

I will REPEAT THAT: Mention that you read this blog and get a free bracelet. Stop by there, look around, you won’t be disappointed.  They are located in the town of Chappaqua, NY, 75 South Greeley Avenue. You can reach them at 914-238-3646 or at ICDJLTD@aol.com. or visit:  http://www.icdjewelry.com/

Thank you again, Varda, for my pink bracelet.

My free gift from ICD Jewelery in Chappaqua, NY

The Message

I don’t know how to begin to write this, other than with a hushed voice,  barely a whisper. It is something so important to me and something I believe in, even though I know many will scoff.  I don’t really care, I know what I have felt, seen, heard, experienced. I have felt the chills go up and down my arms, tiny hairs sticking straight up. Others, like me, will rejoice in the affirmation that they are not “imagining things” that “it’s not a coincidence.”  What we know, those of us who believe, cannot be swayed. It is a gift for us, from the other side.

After my father died in 2002 I was lost, overcome by grief and had never felt the breaking of my heart in such a literal way. Life, as I knew it, had ended. No more pep-talks from my dad, no more nurturing hugs, no more inside jokes. My dad had lived his life as a company man, working for TWA airlines for most of his life, well over forty years. He loved TWA, volunteered to be a flight attendant when there was a flight attendant strike; flew to Chicago for milk when there was a milk strike in NY to feed my sister.  He volunteered for anything TWA related; he was not a pilot although sometimes I think he thought he was.

A few days after the funeral, in the bitter, frosty cold, I finally dragged myself out of the house just to get some fresh air. I needed a destination so I drove to a thrift shop a few towns away that I had liked to go to in the past. I walked in, looked around, saw nothing of interest and walked out again. On my way in there was a clear pathway, no litter, no clutter, no loose pieces of paper, nothing. On my way out of the thrift shop not fifteen minutes later I walked down three steps and saw a bright, red, plastic wrapped luggage tag. It said TWA on it. I knew that was a sign from my dad and I crumpled up and cried right there on the pavement. I was overcome yet thankful for the message, he was still with me and I knew he always would be. I carry that card, to this day, in my pocketbook.

I had received messages from my dad, given to me by others, for example the lovely and talented Roland Comtois, a  psychic who channels messages from the dead to the living.  In fact, a message was waiting for me, written down by Roland, before I even appeared at his event. Also, I had felt my father while I was sitting at my children’s school recitals and there would be a rush of wind out of no where.  I knew Dad was watching. Admittedly, the messages, throughout the years became less frequent but to this day, when I need my Dad the most, he is there. I believe this to my core and while my mom gets scared by these stories, I get comforted.

Two weeks ago we drove our daughter to sleep away camp in Connecticut. On the way there I noticed the car ahead of us whose license plate was 222-TWA. I gasped and eagerly showed my husband who is definitely a skeptic. He smiled and I knew that he didn’t believe the way I did but it didn’t matter. “Hi Dad” I whispered. Just nights before I prayed for my dad to be with us; my husband has been unemployed since September and I have been sick with an auto-immune disease for 3 years. I told him, “Mom is really worried” which was true and he always had been so protective of my mom. “We need your help, Dad. Please.”

We dropped our daughter off, and kissed and hugged good-bye leaving her in the arms of her friends she hadn’t seen in a year. There was a lot of happy squealing and shouts of joy, a good time for parents to leave, knowing that she was happy.

The drive home was uneventful except for my husband excitedly shouting “Look at that car!”  I turned my head to the side and right in front of us was the license plate 888-TWA.  My husband became an instant convert,  knowing that the number 8 was a special number between my father and I since I was a little girl. “Thank you Daddy” I said, trying to figure out what the message was.

The pep-talk I had been missing was right in front of me. The glass of water, for me had always been “half empty” but for my dad it had always been “half full.” I used to over-worry everything and now, as my Dad once instructed, “just try to be in neutral” and I was trying, with a grateful smile above. My prayers had been answered, he was letting us know that he was there, he had heard us, he would help.

The lights in our bedroom, on the right side, go dim for hours at a time, and then they come back on later, this has been happening for three weeks now. The bulbs don’t burn out, they just have this pattern, day in and day out, night and day.  For some people it could be explained by a loose circuit. But to me, it’s my father staying in touch and winking.