Who's That Honking?

     Earlier this month, after running errands for the following day's family get-together, I was driving north on Capilano Road when I approached a red light at the Ridgewood Drive intersection, close to my home. First in line was a sedan, followed by a black pickup truck, then me. After the light turned green, the sedan was not quick enough off the mark as far as the truck driver was concerned, so they gave a short honk. It had only been a matter of maybe two seconds, but as far as the truck driver was concerned, that wait was too long. 
      I can also be impatient behind the wheel at times, but a honk two seconds in was pushing it. I was instantly reminded of my son. Mike had also had a pickup truck and liked to travel fast. It flashed through my mind that he too may have honked in that situation. Smiling to myself while slowly shaking my head from side to side with a silent 'oh Mike',  I started following the traffic up the hill. Moments later, I noticed the truck's license plate: MG 8600 which I immediately read as Michael Gibson, born in '86, and now no longer here. By the time I turned into my driveway, I was laughing and flooded with gratitude for this opportunity to add one more occurrence to my long list of fabulous experiences of feeling connected to my son.
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Did That Just Happen?

 

     In advance of my upcoming overseas trip, I downloaded an app onto my cellphone yesterday afternoon, in order to help me stay connected with family, without incurring any great costs. I had heard reference made to WhatsApp a couple of times, but knew nothing about it. Once downloaded, I noticed an updated list of my phone contacts, notifying me of those using this app. Scrolling down, I saw Michael Gibson listed there, with the notation, "Hey there! I am using WhatsApp". What?! Had he downloaded this app before he died? Was it even around five years ago? Impulsively, I went into the Chat function and typed,
 "Miss you 💗".
     Obviously, he would not actually answer his phone. My assumption was that the message would go out into the ether and that the intention behind it would be felt by my son. Seconds later, I heard an audio alert on my cell and read the reply, "Sorry, but who r u?" In that moment, I felt as if I was in a parallel universe. I walked into my living room and settled into the lounge chair located near the large, open, glass sliding door. It took me a few minutes to figure out that Michael's cell number must have been reassigned to someone else so I typed out a short reply apologizing for the mistaken identity.
     When I was done, I sat there looking out into the yard, contemplating what had just happened when I suddenly caught sight of a tiny feather drifting down, just outside the door opening. I jumped up, stepped outside, and started laughing as I watched it land on the path, right beside the glass door. "Are you kidding?" and "Did that just happen?" swirled around in my mind. This time around it was a light grey feather, instead of the usual white, and I am not yet sure if the colour is of great significance or not. One thing I do know for sure is how grateful I am to have access to the myriad ways of staying connected to family, regardless of where in the world we may be.  
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Heartfelt Visit

Spending an engaging evening over wine and appies with one of my daughters here last night.  Along with two acquaintances adjusting to a very recent loss.  This mother and daughter now a family of two.  The four of us taking turns filling each other in.  Sharing anecdotes about the ups and downs of life.  Some much appreciated laughter too. Touching upon the gifts available to us after experiencing a profound loss.  Greater compassion for others.  Increased confidence and freedom to make fitting choices for oneself.  Deeper appreciation for the right here, right now.  A heartfelt visit leaving me feeling connected, uplifted, and grateful.

Fun in the Sun

Off to enjoy the sun and sand.  Time for some long overdue fun.  A good friend generously loaning us the use of her oceanfront condo.  Looking forward to experiencing the physical representation of the vision shown in that meditation last spring.  Walking the beach.   Swimming with the turtles.  Contemplating that link between the stars above and those below.  Feeling infinitely connected.

Reassuring Experience

Michael coming through to visit his sisters.  Dog by his side, at the ISA last night.  Sharing specific and detailed messages with his energy. Including a shout-out to his dad as well.  Leaving no doubt as to the identity of this, their brother's, spirit.  Another reassuring experience demonstrating the continued existence of beings.  Clearly remaining connected to each other.

Side By Side

Their remains now finally resting in peace, side by side.  Finding a significant measure of comfort in this.  Michael and Kelly so deeply connected in this lifetime.  Belonging together.  This a physical symbol of that.  In the aftermath of calamity, it can be the little things that matter. 

Michael Makes an Appearance

Showing himself last night.  For the first time, appearing to me in a dream.  Wherein a dozen of his friends were gathering on the grass in front of our home.  Male and female.  Soon following me inside. Making their way into the living room.  Joining hands to form a circle. Supporting each other.  Me, proceeding into the kitchen alone.  Seeing my son standing there.  Wearing jeans and a long sleeved pale pink shirt.  Looking just as he had before he passed.  My mind instantly processing that his friends were unable to see him.  Then picking up on his thoughts.  Sensing the pride he was feeling for all of them helping each other through this ordeal.  Such a powerful dream leaving me deeply moved.  This morning, speaking to one of his sisters.  She describing her evening at the townhouse last night.  Baking banana bread while listening to songs that reminded her of Mike.  Later, together with her husband in the living room, watching the slide show that had played at his service.  Suddenly distracted by an intense white ball of light hovering in the kitchen.  The size of a grapefruit.  Seconds later, seeing it explode, filling the entire room with a brilliant flash of light. Then disappearing.  Same evening.  Same rooms involved.  Two completely different events.  Very likely related.  Both of us feeling connected and thankful today.  

Lasting Friendships

A walk along the seawall this morning with a friend of forty years.   Time to catch up on each other's lives.  A daily occurrence in junior high.  Less frequent during college and university life.  As young wives and working mothers, a couple of times a year.  More often now.  Our life philosophies may be different, daily routines unalike, and our neighbourhoods further apart.  It is the similarities however, that have kept us connected.  Married over thirty years.  Mothering three children.  Navigating family dynamics.  We both know what is involved.  The two of us valuing this relationship and making the effort to stay in touch a few times a year, every year.  Lasting friendships.  Priceless.

Michael Shares

Last night, I attended another powerful evening of mediumship at the ISA.  A good friend arrived as well and was able to share this experience with me.  About an hour in, the medium asked if she could come to me.  She mentioned that before the session started, she had overheard me saying that our family had hosted a memorial golf tournament for my son.  She then stated that he had been there with us and proceeded to share what was coming through from him. The following is what she said recorded as accurately as possible, without having taped the session.  My own observations, which I noted to myself while she was speaking, are in brackets:
He had a great sense of humour and things would come out of his mouth that made people laugh, not at him, but with him.  There was so much laughter at the celebration with some people laughing so hard that they were falling down! (absolutely)  During the golf game, many balls were lost including coloured ones, even a green one.  People did not even bother looking for them.  Apparently one ended up in a tree and you will find it some day without purposefully have to go looking for it.  There were many wild shots played out there. (Personally I lost 4 pink balls and did not spend much time looking for any of them) He was amazed by all the food we had and would have loved to have had some.  He loved to eat.  He could not believe how many people were there and was impressed that there was room for them all. (66 ) He wondered if the floor would collapse under the weight of so many people. (Bob actually reinforced the deck earlier this spring for just that reason) He was proud of the family for helping others with what has happened.  He had wanted to help others as well and was beginning to do that in his life.  He is happy that you honoured him in this way.  This tournament was the kind of thing he would have loved and enjoyed. ( I had this conversation with many people during the weekend)  By doing this you were creating memories and he had talked about making memories when he was alive. ( Bob and I specifically talked about this Sunday morning while we watched Michael's friends out on the dock rehashing the previous day) He is around you often, hears you talking to him, and knows that you hear him too. When he passed he immediately knew it was the right time to go. ( I knew that the moment I heard the news) The phrase "bass ackwards" came through.  ( I often use this play on "ass backwards" to describe crazy actions)  He knows that you are grieving, but that you are not stuck.  Once you got over the initial realization of what had happened you were able to start moving forward.  (Absolutely correct)
As my friend later commented, his words came through with playful, happy energy, infused with his sense of humour. I left feeling nurtured and uplifted. Connected and grateful. An experience chosen by few, available to all. 

One Full Season

Three months ago today.  A quarter of a year.  One full season has now passed.  Connecting numbers and dates to whatever significance they may have in my life, some of great importance, others quite obscure.  This is what I do.  Remembering childhood friend's birthdays forty years later, recalling anniversaries of various life events, acknowledging my children's half birthdays.  It is one way to connect to all those people and experiences that help shape who I am.  Michael's first choice for jersey number for all those team sports he played was always number 13.  Just saying.