Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!
Keeping the light on for you,
Carol
The sugar sand and scattered shells are still friendly to my tender feet. This Gulf shore was once my home, and now, at a seaside conference, I bask in its warmth once again. Lost in the thoughts of years past, the ebb and flow of the tide licks my toes as I stroll.
My parents moved us here in the late 1970s, bravely traversing uncharted territory far from the historical family seat. Likely a midlife crisis, my folks were determined to escape winter and forge a new beginning in this utopia, the best medicine for all of us as we bonded with the tropical clime.
Years here provided happiness as well as a few requisite heartaches. Mom and Dad had been resolute to move so that we kids would be fortunate benefactors of opportunities and new experiences otherwise out of reach in our original hometown.
Reflecting on my parents’ courage to have bucked the generational system, I saunter and reminisce along the saltwater on this pristine afternoon. Serenaded by the singing of gulls and gentle surf, the music, textures, and memories are comfortable comrades.
As I amble along the beachfront, my foot touches an unfamiliar object in the sand. Lost in the loving fog of time travel, I give it little thought. This composition change, however, had piqued my subconscious, inexplicably prompting me to turn back and investigate. Discovering the rounded edge of a stone, I dig around it, discovering I had stepped on one barely visible pole of a perfectly shaped heart.
No more than an inch or so in size, I stare at this petite object of affection and smile, my eyes misting. After a quick rinse and cradled in the palm of my hand, I marvel at its indefectibility and cosmic timing: a perfect day, a place my mother had adored, and my consciousness swimming in memories.
I know this token was strategically placed in my path. This serendipitous find had not been the first one that had come my way, but was another unexpected gift and spiritual link in an ethereal chain.
Just after Mom’s passing, eight years prior, my dad, husband, and I were quietly working in our basement. Walking toward them, I halted. Looking down at the concrete, a wet, perfectly shaped heart was waiting to be discovered.
Calling the boys over, we searched high and low for a leaking water source, finding nothing. We all started to weep, and Mom, it seemed, had been tearful too. My engineer husband stood in disbelief at this otherworldly shade of gray in his very black and white world. We were all too stunned to snap a picture, but at least there were three witnesses.
Another manifestation occurred one winter morning heading to work. Triggered by a random memory of Mom, sadness temporarily consumed me. Another impeccable rendering, its chalky medium consistent with a season of salted roads, appeared on our garage floor in an area devoid of boot or tire tracks. I noticed the perfectly shaped heart as I got in my car and this time, I smiled. With Mom’s wink, I took a few deep breaths, centering myself for the day ahead. I also had the presence of mind to record the image with my cell phone camera.
On yet another occasion, hurriedly shuffling my small daughters to a dance recital, Mom appeared again. While lamenting how much my mother would have adored watching, I glanced down to sidestep a slushy puddle. An impeccable perfectly shaped heart greeted me in the yuck. Not a snowy Rorschach version, but a faultless form, let me know that Mom indeed had the best seat in the house to cheer on her granddaughters.
These sightings, strung along over the years when I least expected them, have been greatly comforting. Having always believed in nudges from the Great Beyond, no validation is needed. Skeptics and pragmatists of the physical world demand logical explanations, yet the spiritual world seems to frequently have the final say or last laugh.
A conversation with a favorite pastor lent credence to these connections. She too had been privy to such experiences and counseled others trying to make sense of their own. Her words offered healing and hope, a soothing balm I needed at the time.
It is this connecting of dots that so often goes unnoticed in the cyclone of the world we live in. Requiring patience, mindfulness and gratitude, our dear ones are dropping breadcrumbs along our mortal journeys to help nurture these virtues within us. Keeping their celestial schedules private, their cameos are quiet but emotionally punctual.
I now choose to not seek out these spectacles, but remain open to their possibility and joyousness when they surface. No longer bringing tears of sadness, they offer appreciative solace.
While gone from our sight, our loved ones’ spirits are indeed by our sides, their occasional winks the reassurance we need in knowing they are getting along just fine in the Afterlife. And all they desire of us is to simply pay attention.
Thank you for this, Carol. I so look for these little gifts from my loved ones in Heaven. They are what keeps me going.
I completely agree!
sending a string of hearts to you!
Thank you Mary!
Beautiful
Thank you Mimi!