Cheeky Kid

I attended an inspiring drop-in at the ISA this week, long overdue.  It was not because of a burning desire to hear from anyone in particular that I went - it was because I knew that even listening to messages meant for others always leaves me feeling enheartened, particularly in that space.

There were five mediums ready to work with spirit but before they began, we did something a little different - each member of the audience was asked to write down the name of someone in spirit that we were hoping to connect with that evening.  No surprise that I wrote down "Michael" because obviously it is always wonderful to hear from him.  After we all placed our folded papers in a basket, the mediums each took turns pulling names and relaying the messages.  The energy was excellent, resulting in detailed and meaningful readings.  

As the two hour session drew to a close, one of the mediums stood up and announced that rather than drawing a name, she would work with the spirit who had shown himself to her while she was awaiting her turn.  She described his personality, his age group, and the accident.  Once I determined it was Michael, she went on to say that he was feeling responsible for the added emotional challenges I have had these past few weeks and that he felt sad while watching me cope.  The medium then reiterated something I already knew - that Michael was coming into his own more fully now, and helping others.  All of this was comforting to hear.

Later, while driving home, it dawned on me that the most poignant part of his communication was not the message itself but rather how he had chosen to come through. The folded paper with his name on it would not physically get picked from the basket - that was for the masses, not for him.  He would come through on his own terms rather than follow the format set out for the group.  This had been one of Michael's strong personality traits on this side and he was now showing it to me from over there.  Recognizing this inside joke, I had a good laugh and was reminded that he is still my cheeky kid!

Opposite Sides of the Same Coin

Eighteen months in and still, most moments in my day are filtered through the lens of losing my son.  Thankfully, a little less frequently, and for the most part, with reduced intensity.  Two recent experiences in particular come to mind.  Both nonevents to an outsider, yet milestones for me.  Firstly, the entire twenty-four hours of August 7th passed without registering the significance of that date at all.  The first time, since March 7th, when I did not reflect upon a one month marker. Largely due to being out of the country and in a completely different time zone.  While observing this the following morning, I was enheartened. Pleasantly surprised.  Secondly, later that month, after an evening of exploring Zurich with a Swiss friend, I returned to my hotel room.  It was only then when I realized that not once had I thought of the loss during that entire six hour excursion.  The longest stretch by far during this year and a half.  In both cases, it was recognizing the absence of something that left me feeling encouraged.  Seeing what was not there. Experiencing opposite sides of the same coin.  This coin most definitely a penny.