My mom! =)

Mom making a goofy face!

I would like everyone to meet my Mom...Mom - everyone!  =)

She would soooooo kick my ass for using this picture, but, honestly, I can't think of a better picture that captures the goofiness of her personality.

Unfortunately I lost my mom  on May 22, 2007 to cancer, and yet I am so thankful that her struggle with it was relatively short.  My parents had come down for Thanksgiving in Nov. 2006, by Christmas 2006 we found out that she had been in the hospital with pneumonia and that the doctors had found something abnormal on her chest x-rays, and she was gone by May of 2007.

In those 5 months or so there were a lot of late night emergency drives from Missouri to Illinois.  Seven hour drives at the drop of a hat to get to the hospital where Mom had just been taken, the wonder what was going on, the worry that she would be gone by the time we got there, and all the emotional turmoil that goes with it.

At the end of her life she was in the hospice to make her departure as comfortable as possible.  Now, luckily, DH and I have our own businesses, and as long as we have internet we can pretty much work from anywhere.  So it made things somewhat easier, but it got to the point where visiting Mom in the hospice was getting impossible for me to handle.  She was losing touch with consciousness, she wasn't able to join in conversation, and you could just see her losing her fight.  In the end she simply wasn't even aware (or at least visibly so) that we were there to visit or that she could hear us speaking to her.  So I told my Dad that we needed to get back home for a while, that the woman that was in the bed was my Mom, but my Mom wasn't there.  I just felt that her soul was already working it's transition at that point, and I just couldn't wait for the inevitable.

DH and I came back home and just chose to wait for that call.  When it came, I woke DH up, and we started the packing process all over again to  make the final trip.  I was physically and emotionally drained.  After 5 months of running and worrying and crying I just had nothing left....running on auto pilot doesn't come close to describing it.  As I'm walking around trying to get stuff packed up again, I smell fresh cut flowers.  It was like I had just walked into a flower shop.  It was overwhelming.  In that moment I knew mom had visited to tell me that she loved me and thanked me for the fresh flowers that I had bought her almost every day she was in the hospital and in the hospice.  At that moment I told Mom "I love you too and you're welcome!" and the smell of fresh cut flowers just disappeared; I told DH about it as we packed things up and got back on the road.

There have been other smaller things that have happened since she crossed that made me think it might be her way of showing that she's still hanging around. I avoid going back to the house, in which I grew up, though because that isn't home anymore without my Mom.  Recently, though, we had to go back because my father was getting married.  We stayed a day after he and his new wife left for their honeymoon, and dad had asked that I go through the stuff that's in the house and take with me anything that I wanted to keep of Mom's or mine.  So DH and I made a trip to Walmart to buy some cheap storage tubs to pack some stuff up in, and then we set about going from room to room, closet to closet, drawer to drawer trying to find what we could find.

I went into the master bedroom and started looking through all of the areas in the room where Mom had kept her clothes and stuff.  I didn't think that there was going to be anything left because when we had been up there helping dad though through her clothes and stuff it was pretty empty by the time we got done, but I did a once through of her areas just to make sure. 

DH had left to go to the front of the house to the living room, and, once I finished looking around, I walked through the door, across the hallway and into my old bedroom, mumbling something along the lines of "Well, at least that's one room out of the way."  In the amount of time it took me to take those 15 or 20 steps, with my back on the room and my focus switched over to the next room, there was a huge BANG in the master bedroom like someone took their fist and hit the top of my dad's dresser with as much force as they could.  I looked in the living room and DH was still sitting there doing work, so I called him to come back with me to help me look.  We walked back to the master bedroom and started opening the drawers on Dad's dresser and in the first drawer we found a grocery bag that was tied shut.  We opened the bag and inside was some of my Grandma's (my Mom's mom) sewing stuff, and old wax pad Gram had used to help her old iron slide better across clothes, and an old eraser of my Mom's that she had used when she was in 1st grade.

Now I am slow on the uptake, but even I got it.  =)  We finished digging through all of my dad's stuff too, and did end up finding some stuff of my Grandma's that apparently Mom wanted us to take with us.

So thanks Mom!  Love ya!

Jewells =)

Enough Already!

I tried to get a post up yesterday, but the post is a pretty emotional topic for me (my mom) so I'm going to take the weekend trying to pound it out.

In the meantime though I have been utterly overwhelmed by the amount of negativity that seems to be coming from all directions this week; flowing completely unchecked.  It's nauseating really.  Media....politics....blah, blah, blah...  Seriously, doesn't anyone have anything nice to say or do, or BE?  Honestly, all the bull is not only irritating, but down right exhausting.  Days and weeks like this just make me want to unplug from the world and disappear for a while....but I'm not sure my system could handle the shock of coming back to the "real" world.

So, today I went searching for something, that could possibly put into a visual, my desire to change the vibe of this week, and I found this picture with the quote on the bottom.  In case you can't read the small print "Your life is your garden, your thoughts are the seeds.  If your life isn't awesome, you've been watering the weeds.  -- Terry Prince"  That pretty much sums it up for me.  =) 

Maybe if we all took a moment to stop and alter the course of our thoughts we could make enough of a difference that there would be some positive changes in this incredibly crazy world that we live in.

So take some time to water your garden and pull those weeds!

Jewell =)

Living, Learning, Searching

I am friends with a beautiful (inside and out), blond haired, willowy, intelligent woman who I love dearly.  It's hard to think of her as a woman though because she's more like the little sister that I never had and so in my mind she'll always be that way.

She and I recently got the opportunity to reconnect in person after about 11 years of not seeing or speaking with one another.  It's one of those connections that never seems to diminish over time.  Of course, we have lost out on a lot of information about the other over the years, but outside of the need to catch up it's still just us - like we've never missed a beat.

While we now keep in touch through Facebook, I've learned that she loves doing yoga and she's turned into quite the travel hound.  She loves to go off and visit and learn about other places and cultures.  Truth be told, her adventurous spirit makes me nervous for her because of her beautiful blond American looks.  In so many ways, she is much braver than I am...if for no other reason than she is willing to eat things that I couldn't consciously put on my plate let alone into my mouth. 

Anyway, her most recent trip was to China where she was able to visit and meet up with friends, as well as visit Tibet.  She was there 2 weeks, and though China is probably a very unique place to visit, the sheer amount of people would probably force me back onto the plane.

I followed her blog daily, and was forced to think a little deeper than normal when it comes to living vicariously through her pictures.  Here's a couple small excerpts of her blog with regard to part of her visit to Tibet (I hope she doesn't mind).

"This monastery is in Shigatse, the 2nd biggest city in Tibet with population of 300,000.  It has 1000 active monks and nuns and was the first time I actually saw many monks actively working chanting in assembly halls.  A few were in the big assembly hall (see picture below) counting money that devotees leave at different assembly halls with specific buddhas that they are praying to for wisdom, health, etc.  I was very much reminded of the baskets they pass at Catholic mass...so needless to say I continue to feel alienated by organized religion of all sorts.  So, I will continue my spiritual journey but coming to Tibet has only confirmed for me what doesn’t resonate with me in religion, not was does.  I’m very surprised by this but I will continue asking questions and searching."

<<< snip >>>

"I’ve always thought that I would go to someplace like Tibet and feel some sort of spiritual belonging or understanding or have an aha moment.  My friend, Bobbi, once pointed out to me that a personal awakening can happen in your backyard, not necessarily on a mountain top in Bhutan.  Well now I know she is/was right (not that I ever doubted that).  I can say for sure that I now know that the moments I have on my yoga mat at YogaView in Chicago are amazing spiritual moments and blessings!!  I will no longer take them for granted just because they are in my backyard (Many thanks and love to my yoga teachers...Quinn, Claire, Erica, Erica, and Tom!!!)  As I walked through these monasteries and temples seeing elderly people barely able to walk performing their religious traditions I reflected quite a bit about the Eastern versus Western perspective.  We discussed this idea in yoga teacher training, the idea of the 3rd perspective.  Not just believing something or in someone just because it is 1000’s of years old, but taking it in and making up your own mind.  What feels right in your heart and soul.   And the idea of devotion...I don’t have the audacity to question the devotion of anyone having never walked in their shoes...but what inspires devotion or what circumstances require devotion?  Now that is a question worth spending a lifetime traveling the world to answer!"

How many times have I had some of these same thoughts over the years?  All of this caused me to think about what I have learned and not learned as yet about religion, spirituality, and the path that we choose to take in life.

Part of my comment to her post was "Keep in mind though, your truth can only be found within you, not without!"

I don't know if that is something that I came up with on my own or if it was something that I read, or something that is a little bit of both.  Yet it's something that I know to be true right now.  Could it change?  Will it change?  I don't know...I imagine, like all things about myself, it will grow, develop, be discarded, be revised....

Religion, as an entity, frequently pisses me off.  Spirituality seems so vague.  Yet, we keep looking for that one thing - that thing that will make us complete, will validate us, will teach us something new and unequivocal about life and the life greater than ourselves.

It's a surprise that for all the words that all the languages in all the world have, put together they just don't seem to fill that void that keeps us searching...

Onward on my journey!

Jewell =)

The power of dreams

The new movie that's out called Inception, deals in the world of dreaming.  It was something that DH had to see [I bowed out as I am not that much into dream manipulation or Leonardo DiCaprio], and he has since informed me [on multiple occasions] that it's awesome, fantastic, the best movie he's ever seen of it's kind...blah blah blah....  =)

Then, today, I received a comment [my first on this blog - woo hoo!] from Jenn on one of my other posts, where she mentioned her dreams are detailed enough that she actually receives significant (and sometimes prophetic) information from them.

All of this has made me think of dreams, and some of the dreams that I have had.  The thing is, I'm pretty sure that I have them, but don't tend to remember them.  I know for certain I have never had any kind of dream that portended the future for me in any way, and I have never done any lucid dreaming while I was sleeping like DH.

No, the dreams that I have that I actually remember are ones where loved ones who've crossed come to visit me.  Even then, I remember the visuals of the whole thing - but rarely is there ever any audio to go with them.  I'm not sure if lack of sound is normal in the dream state or not, but, for me, my dream-time visitations don't have any sound or words to go with them.

For example, when I first began to look for the spiritual path that fits me and to try and develop my psychic/mediumistic abilities, dream-time visits became a rather common occurrence.  My grandfather, has visited me in multiple dreams.  We talk non-stop, we laugh, we talk some more, and, as my body gets ready to rouse itself, I cry at having to leave him behind again...and inevitably wake up crying for him all over again.

My mom has also come to visit, and, though those dream-time visits seem to be shorter, than those I've had with my grandfather, they are just as intense and tearful as the ones I've had with him.

Regardless of the person who's visiting or where we are at, the colors in my dream-time visits are insanely brilliant - so much so that they almost seem to have a life of their own.  If you have ever seen the movie "What Dreams May Come" that movie's colors are fantastic, and still no where close to the intensity of color that these visits get.  They are definitely otherworldly, and very special!

Jewell

Awesome!

Ok, so here is the deal...DH and I have a ghost.  Actually, if anyone were to ask my opinion [which they rarely do *snicker*], we probably have at least 3 as I can be sure of.  In all reality though, there could definitely be more.

We moved into this house going on 6 years ago, and almost immediately we kept hearing heavy footsteps.  Like a large man wearing heavy work boots walking through the parts of the house that have hard flooring.  At first neither of us said anything to the other.  One day, though, I heard the walking and asked DH what he was doing or where he was going.  He yelled at me from the other end of the house and asked if I was talking to him.  I walked in and looked at him, and he had been sitting on the couch the whole time with his headphones in.  He hadn't been up walking around and definitely didn't have his boots on while he was sitting there.  Hmm... 

Since then we have had many different experiences to varying degrees, and they have convinced us that we have a ghost (or ghosts) in the house.  Recently though one of them was feeling pretty noisy.  Whoever [my current name for the ghost(s) until I have something more concrete to call him/her/them] made the sound of sighing in aggravation in my ear, whispered in my SIL's ear, and moved a necklace I had sitting on my dresser. 

Because of the latest wave of activity, DH and I got to talking about the different things that had been going on.  He had mentioned that he had felt like someone had been blowing on his ear or that there were little breezes on his ear or back of his neck.  So one night when he was working late at our office I decided to try to emulate the ghost hunting shows on TV.

So, while the house was quiet, I grabbed one of my little cameras that records video [an accidental discovery since I only learned it was possible to do this on the 4th of July. I've only had the camera for 6 or 7 months - HA!].  I turned out the lights in the bedroom, sat on the bed and started talking out loud to see if I could get anything on audio or video.  Nothing. I basically sat there for 13 minutes talking to myself in the dark. *sigh*  

During the course of the taping I asked whoever it was that was messing with DH's ears to please stop it.  See, DH really, REALLY hates having his ears messed with.  So I told whoever to please stop messing with his ears, and to pinch his toes or something instead.  I really did it with the intention of making DH more comfortable...you know...the whole ear thing. 

So, not getting anywhere with the recording I hit the sack about midnight.  Normally when DH is up late he will sleep in the spare room so that he doesn't wake me up [actually I think it has more to do with this rumor that I snore].  This night, though, he woke me up coming into the bedroom at 3 am.

ME: "What are you doing?"

DH: "I'm coming to bed in here."

ME: "Why?"

DH: "Because something keeps messing with my toes!"

ME: [snort, giggle] "That's awesome!" [giggle that bubbles into a full fledged giddy laugh]

DH: "What?!"

ME: [laughing as hysterically as possible when 1/2 asleep]  "That's awesome!"

DH: "Why?"

ME: "I asked it to do that on tape.  I have it on tape."  [pause - giggle]  "That's so awesome!"

Of course he had no clue what I was talking about, assumed I was pretty much having a different conversation in my head, and went to bed.  I, on the other hand, had so much adrenaline flowing from the validation that someone [other than the cats] was listening to me talk to myself that I had to get up an do some work until I calmed back down.

The next day, DH and I discussed what had happened, and he was stone cold shocked at what I told him.  He described the feeling on his toes like someone was trying to grab a toe through the covers but couldn't quite get a grip because they would slip off.  Apparently he wasn't amused and came running to sleep with his wife.  =)  HA!

I am forever under strict orders to not use him as a guinea pig unless he's been informed.  [Party pooper!]

Jewell  =)

My first real memory...

Ok, so maybe not so much my first real memory, but my first real significant event in something that I remember but have never really been able to explain.

When I was still in school [like not out of HS, still living at home school] my grandfather died.  It was the middle of the night, and everyone was in bed asleep.  For whatever reason, I jolted awake from a sound sleep, pulled the covers over my head, and started crying [bawling really, truth be told].  I remember saying something along the lines of "Oh, grandpa!" while I cried.  I didn't know why I was doing it or how I knew that he was gone, but I knew it as sure as the tears rolled down my face that he had died.

Probably 2 minutes later I heard the phone ring in my parents room and my dad's muffled answer, and shortly after that my mom speaking in muffled tones.  I don't know if she was talking on the phone or responding to dad, but shortly after they came into my room to officially tell me he was gone.

Apparently he had sat down in his favorite chair to watch the news like he did every night, their poodle Muffin had jumped up in his lap as she usually did, and he closed his eyes.  [Now, in my family, to watch TV with your eyes closed is pretty standard procedure.  I mean really, I think we are all born with off switches in our asses.  The sad thing is that my grandfather wasn't even related by blood...so this means it was a contagious thing even back then!]  When grandma was ready to call it a night, she got up to take out the dog and wake up grandpa so she could drag him off to bed like she did every night.  It was then that she discovered he'd passed away in his sleep as he sat in that arm chair with the dog.

To this day I don't have any idea what it was that woke me up, or how I knew that he was gone.  It's not like in the movies where he would have been standing at the end of the bed telling me his final goodbyes while I was still too groggy to process that he was standing in my bedroom.  What I am sure of is that I just knew...now to find out how.....

Jewell  =)