Posted in Mom, Moments, Spirit animals

A little visitor from heaven

It was Mom’s Birthday just the other day and as mentioned before that special day has changed a lot for me since her passing two years ago. Over the past two years it has turned into a time that brings up memories, but mostly the pain of her not being here anymore. It’s a day when her loss is just a little more apparent, and it cut’s just a little deeper than usually. A day that would cast a lingering cloud over my own birthday just one day after hers, and I found it hard to enjoy my own special day. I think it was in the days ahead that I prepared myself to feel this heartache all over again. I came to expect it, that it would unfold like it had in recent years. But this year was different and I had a little helper to distract me, my Cinnamon Girl. And then an unexpected visitor showed up and Mom came to play with her.

If you don’t know the story, it was only days after Mom passed that a dragonfly landed and sat on my hand in a serene park setting. Already believing in the signs of animal spirits I looked up the meaning and it was said that dragonflies assist our dearly departed on their flight to heaven. I was lost, hurt and sad, feeling the waves of Grief as I was working through my loss. I instantly knew that it was Mom, it was a sign from her to let me know that she was ok and at peace. I will never forget this powerful moment and it has stayed with me as a special occurrence and message from Mom.

We were out on a walk when a dragonfly, beautiful in black and white, a dancer between two worlds, between light and darkness came to visit us. Mom always had a special heart for animals, especially for dogs. Cinnamon was off leash, running through the meadows, head up into the sky, playing and chasing after something I couldn’t make out at first. I was too fixed on watching her enjoying herself, but then I saw it and it was a dragonfly. Again I knew right away that it was Mom and I smiled. She had come for her birthday to send another sign that she was ok. To lift my sorrows and sad feelings, and turn them into a joyful game of chase and dance. It couldn’t have been a better moment and I felt like I had received a great gift. And so did Mom by playing with my Cinnamon Girl. Fly high and happy Birthday Mom. Thank you for stopping by.

Posted in Celebration, Life, Mom

Birthday Week

Birthday week always leaves me a little uneasy and feeling blue. For many years Mom and I celebrated our Birthdays one day apart, hers on the 19th of July and mine on the 20th. I still hear her telling me that I should have hurried up coming into this world so we could have celebrated on the same day. In many ways it always felt like the same day, one (two) long day (s) rolled into one celebration.

Today it starts and it’s Mom’s birthday. It’s the second year since her passing and birthday week has not been the same since. It brings pains and sorrows, a love unexpressed although I talk to her often and she is aware of what’s in my heart. My own birthday has changed too, and I’m the one still here, the one left behind. A shadow lingers no matter how hard anyone tries to make it special. Sadness creeps up and the memories are still bittersweet. It’s hard to be happy and carefree, hard to enjoy your special day when you are still missing the one that used to be such a big part of that day. Perhaps it will always be this way, until the end of my time now.

I marked the picture above as one of my favorite pictures of Mom (on the left). It was taken in 2018, celebrating her birthday at her favorite medieval castle. She was already in a wheelchair but thanks to family and friends we made it possible to take her out of the nursing home for a special celebration. I wrote about it before but this picture has something else. Something exclusive to me. It was the look on Moms face when I look at this picture. Blame, anger, hard feelings towards me, disbelief, disgust, unworthiness, it all had vanished in that moment and transformed into love, forgiveness and gratefulness. I can see it in her face and it is a picture that speaks a thousand words to me. She never had to tell me and yet I knew how much that day meant to her. And because of it this day will forever be special to me and this picture will always be one of my favorites.

Happy Birthday Mom, I still miss you, my mind still talks to you, my heart still looks for you, but my soul knows that you are at peace and relieved from all pain.

Posted in Holidays, Love, Mom

Dear Mom – Heavenly Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day in heaven. Today is the day that we celebrate and give thanks to all the wonderful things you do, just a little more than usual. For all the hard work, the love, and the sacrifices that go into making you so special and who you are. A mother. Today we reflect this love and show our appreciation for a special person like no other. You….

To be honest with you, I am struggling today and it’s an emotional one for me. Much is going on in my life right now. Add a thing like Mother’s Day and the emotions are quadrupled. Fact is, I miss you and no matter how much time passes, that empty void, that hole that is left behind from losing a loved one, just never fills again. Death and loss changes a person and it’s a pain that will be with you for the rest of your life.

Remembering you, I did things a little different this year. I can’t visit your grave, nor can I bring and place flowers for you there. But I don’t think that I need to be at that particular spot to honor you and to show my love and respect for you. You are with me in spirit wherever I am and that is not bound to being in Germany or at your place of rest.

I didn’t want to get a bouquet of flowers that wilts and dies without a trace in 7 days. I got a plant for you, dedicated to your memory and today, which will be around for some time to be enjoyed. Really what I wanted to do is plant a tree for you, but it will have to wait a little as I won’t have a permanent address for awhile. I want your tree to be wherever I see myself living out the rest of my life. You always loved purple and it was your favorite color. Seeing this little plant with it’s purple centers reminded me of you and I knew you’d like it.

Mom, there is not a day that goes by where you don’t cross my mind in some ways. It’s still hard to find the words sorting all the feelings, but even that I know that I don’t have to convey or try to explain. You can now see it all, even the things you struggled with seeing while you were still here in the physical. You now know my heart and you see the unconditional love it has always held for you.

I love you and miss you.

Posted in Death, Life, Mom

On this Day

Another anniversary, another painful memory. The last one in the cycle of one full year without you. Holiday, birthdays, special occasions, things have been different and surely not the same without you, Mom.

One year ago today, I carried you to your final resting place next to Dad. After many years you were finally reunited with who has always been the love of your life. It was a beautiful service and I remember it in a way as if only you and I were there. Everything was on auto pilot and I had my own pace. I didn’t hear or witnessed much around me, the things I worried about prior to the service merely fell to the wayside and lost their significance. None of it mattered in that time and in that place. Carrying you out of church, we almost lost all the proceeding people behind us, and gently I was asked to slow down to allow time for others to follow. I was in my own world. With you. This was hard. Setting you down on the side of the grave. Letting go. Of you, in the physical sense of relating to you in the urn I was carrying.

Today on the anniversary of your funeral, I remember that day and all the emotions that were felt on that day, the days prior, and the days that have come and gone. I am thinking about our beginning and the time when you carried me during your pregnancy. And I am thinking about the ending and me carrying you for the last time to rest for all eternity. I am thinking about your dash, the little line between the date you were born and the date you left us. How you lived your dash and all the times you were alive.

Today I howl with the wolves remembering you. May my heart always be kind and forgiving, never holding a grudge because of foolish pride or the ego. May my mind be fierce and aware. May I be conscious of all the special things, the miracles, and blessings that constantly surround us. May I never take life for granted and always make time for the people in my life. For I have learned over and over that I may not get the chance to do so another day. And may my spirit be brave in the face of adversity and never forget to get back up. May the warrior within me, like yours, never stop fighting and remain united in spirit, courage, and integrity….always.

Posted in Death, Mom

The day off….Numbness

The day off – September the 28th, the anniversary of Mom’s death. I dreaded this day, but now I’m not really sure why it gave me so much anxiety. Of course it’s a painful day for me, the anniversary of her leaving this world, but perhaps it was more of the unknown that had me up in arms. I didn’t know what I’d be thinking, or how I’d be feeling. Would everything change all of a sudden? Would I cry non stop? Did I want to be left alone? Would I be unapproachable?

It takes me by surprise to think that this was the reason, knowing that I usually don’t care about the unknown. Knowing that I usually go with the flow. I’m not one that needs to have everything under control and over the years I learned to roll with the punches as they appear. Maybe this one was a expected one, one that I saw coming. Perhaps it was something different all together and all I knew was that it was the anniversary of a terrible day in my life, a day that happened one year ago.

For days now I have had the most terrible tension in my neck and shoulders. You know the one that gives you headaches and makes life miserable. So bad in fact that I actually took a muscle relaxer because the pain got too intense. And I’m not a pill person and have a high threshold for pain. I prefer and much rather handle issues in a holistic manner, with essential oils, but it got so bad that I needed it to be gone or at least ease up a bit. Walking became painful and I even skipped my work out. I even exchanged the pillows in my bed for an extra firm version to add support. I guess I pleaded my case and have made myself believe that I needed to take this pill. And to be honest I didn’t even think clear enough for the use of a homemade remedy and just grabbed the pills. Ughhh…

Anyways, I felt better this morning and it paid off. I’m glad because I surely wasn’t going to take another. During my cup of Joe, I remembered a sweet lady I met during my walk yesterday. She was having a garage sale in the neighborhood, the annual neighborhood sale in my community, and yeah I missed it. I surely could have tried to sell some of things instead of just donating. A little extra money is always helpful, but as long as my stuff is finding a good home with someone less fortunate, I’m ok with that too.

I stopped to have a closer look at her sale. We got to chatting right away and actually had a lot in common. From crafting, to essential oils, from tarot cards, to energy healing and who knows what else. I ended up with a cute little bag full of beads for future projects. I had $5 to spend but she was so kind and generous, just throwing things in, not even charging me for it. Plus the bag had a dragonfly on it and I knew Mom was there, working her magic again. We talked about my crafts and the Etsy store and I promised to stop by and bring a business card.

This morning I did, armed with a pair of my handmade Austrian Crystal earrings I was going to gift her, and a few of my crafts for show and tell. I was relieved she loved the earrings and they complimented her outfit perfectly with the same color scheme. She also fell in love with one of felted bags and I ended up making a sale. Yay. Long story short she works in the insurance business and I ended up switching the homeowners insurance for the house and the vehicles. Per year a whopping savings of $1700. Crazy isn’t it? Who knew and I really gotten ripped off prior. Magical how things work out at times.

On my walk I found more feathers and two pennies from heaven, both from my parents I believe. They knew it was a tough day for me and I know they worked hard with their interventions on keeping me distracted throughout the day. It worked, mostly and if I had to describe how I felt, I’d say that I felt mainly numb. This day is just a reminder about a horrible day that happened in the past. It doesn’t really feel more painful than any other, and the pain is always here, throughout the year, on every other day. It doesn’t require an anniversary to feel more intense, and I’m not sure that it can be felt at a deeper level than it is already. It’s evening time now and I feel drained and tired. I feel exhausted to be honest and my stomach hurts from a little mass that seems to get bigger. I wonder if it is an ulcer (which would probably be the lesser of the evils) and after a little trouble this afternoon it seems triggered. I know I should have it checked but it will have to wait for now and faith will have to carry me until I can.

Thank you Mom and Dad for walking besides me today and for the special souls that reached out to me, in person or on this blog. It truly meant a lot to me and I’m blessed to be surrounded by you, the light in my days. 🙏🏼

I made Mom a bracelet (picture above). A dragonfly, a feather, and her first name initial. I will wear it from time to time I think.

Posted in Death, Life, Mom

Remembering you – A letter to Mom

Hello Mom,

It is a year that you left us. A year the dreaded phone call arrived, you know, the one I was so scared off, for so many years prior to actually receiving it. Maybe you never knew because we never talked about those kind of things. One year ago, your health declined for the worse and my flight was booked. Soon I’d be there to hold your hand, to give you courage, and a reason to go on, to fight with you the fight for your life like you had done so many times before.

I remember the last time you were this sick and then miraculously recovered against all odds. Afterwards I was joking with you, grateful, but also comparing you to a cat with nine lives. You yourself made fun about it, saying that you were jumping off the grim reapers shovel once more. But this would not be the case this time and it would be your last fight. On September the 28th it was confirmed in that very phone call. You had passed away and you were on your way of becoming an angel. I was too late, and the last time I saw you in person and said goodbye, was with a promise to be back soon, to do whatever I could to take you out of the nursing home and bring you back into your own four walls. It wasn’t a forever goodbye, such as a goodbye to your life, although every time I did leave always held the possibility that I’d never see you again. That thought itself was scary enough and always weighed heavily on me. I prayed, and I hoped, I believed, and I pushed it away, not wanting to think about it coming true. But it did and the inevitable call came.

Today I believe it had happen this way and I’m not sure if I could have been strong enough to sit next to you, saying my final goodbye, watching you take your last breath. I know that it would have broken me even more, maybe beyond the point of repair, and I know that this wasn’t what you wanted for me. Perhaps in your final hours you bestowed your biggest kindness towards me, going off towards the light in silence and alone. I know you weren’t afraid in the end and you were looking forward to reunite with Dad. You knew I would find a way to go on and not be haunted by those final images of you being in pain, finally letting go.

A year has past since you’ve been gone. A year of coming to some sort of acceptance as I wander through the streets of loneliness, missing you more than I could have ever imagined. A year of trying to celebrate holidays and special occasions without you, trying to make it through and holding it together somehow. Family traits and values passed down, remnants of YOU, a strong woman, tough and resilient, who and what you always resembled to me growing up. I would have failed you during your last hours and I wouldn’t have been able to hold it together.

The fact is that I don’t share those same views and I am not afraid to show my emotions. I don’t see them as a weakness and I don’t buy into upholding a front, a facade that hides and is made of steel. I am not afraid to say that it’s not the same without you, and that you cross my mind on most days. Special occasions such as your birthday have become times that are now harder than usual. Harder because they can’t be shared, harder because you are not here .

I find myself surrounded by the memory that is you and the time we did get to spend together. In the end you embraced me as your daughter and I think you even forgave me. You finally understood that me coming to the States was not at all to leave you behind, abandoned, and all alone. I was simply trying to live my life, to be responsible and strong, just like you, like you have raised me. How could I have realized the impact of such a decision.

Many dragonflies have sat with me this summer and my response is always a painful smile and a whisper that says “Hello Mom.” I know it is you and I remember how you came and sat on my hand shortly after your passing. I had just arrived in Germany and on a sunny fall day, you, a beautiful dragonfly, landed on my hand, sharing a couple of moments with me. I will never forget it, and I immediately knew you came to tell me that you were ok and made the transition to heaven. It was a message from you trying to put me at ease, lifting some of the burden and the pain I felt.

Mom, I don’t know how many times I have talked to you over the past year. Feeling that I never really got to say goodbye. Looking to understand, but never really feeling a sense of closure. You’re simply gone, no more, and it’s hard not being able to call you on the phone and hear your voice. Luckily you left me a few surprise videos, recording yourself by accident and a few times I’ve even managed to view a live picture and get a few seconds of footage, or a little video clip of you. Sometimes I even manage a smile. But most of the times it’s just torture and pain knowing you are gone. It’s a feeling of loss, a hole, something that can’t be filled and lives deep inside my heart. I know you are always with me and yet you are not. I know I love with the memories and although they are precious and priceless, sometimes they don’t seem enough and bring little to no comfort.

You have sent me so many feathers over the past year and I am sure it is because you see my pain. I know you are watching over me and perhaps it is for the first in a long time you are actually finding fulfillment to give me all your care and love. It was too hard for you to do in real life and I know you struggled with it. You just didn’t know how but I know it wasn’t because you didn’t care, but because of your own tough life and having to grow up way too early in a war. It was something you never learned and perhaps you have never received it yourself. Therefore you couldn’t pass it forward although it was something I needed above all from you.

I like to think that you are in a better place where there is no suffering and somehow I know this to be true. I am grateful you didn’t have to experience the current times, as I couldn’t imagine you in that home and me unable to see you.

I know that grief never ends, but it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love and I have always loved you dearly. I miss you Mom.

Posted in Life, Mom, Moon

Full moon of summer

Picture taken from google

The final full moon of summer will rise in the sky tonight, on September 2nd. I am not camping under the elusive Moonlight this month, but I will celebrate this special time with a little drumming and starring at grandmother moon in awe and admiration.

It’s hard to believe, but summer is nearing it’s end and soon a crips autumn air will fill our lungs and prepare our land for father winter. One good thing is that the fires will cease and soon the devastation will be covered in snow, at least in some areas.

September like so many other months this year reminded me of Mom. The end of this month will mark her one year death anniversary and it already drives back the memories in full force. A whole year has passed and I still can’t wrap my head around it on most days. It gets tolerable on some and on others it’s still so new, especially on holidays and on special occasions. Sometimes I wonder how long and how frequent these waves of grief will find me. I imagine forever. But that’s another story and today we are talking about the full moon, the corn moon. With it, it brings much needed positivity and who isn’t ready for that. We could use a change right about now, couldn’t we? So hold on and take a look at the predictions and what is coming your way. The stars are aligned and grandmother moon has many blessings to offer us this month. As a matter of fact, I think it has a little something for everyone. So take your pick, smile at the moon and consider it done.

  • Real love is coming
  • Meditation will bring clarity
  • Transparency in relationships
  • Explosion of money
  • Healing on a cellular level
  • Psychic flashes
  • Better job opportunities

What would you pick and why?

Posted in Celebration, Life, Mom

Happy Birthday to me

The day has come and it’s my birthday. The anniversary of the day on which a person was born, typically treated as an occasion for celebration and the giving of gifts.

Birthday – a day on which one or more years ago someone appeared in the world. It’s been definitely a few (more) years since I appeared in the world and today should be a day for celebration. Having reached another year to add to my number, remembering that age is simply the amount of years the world has been enjoying you, and that not all of us are that privileged to reach another year. This year I remember the ones that are no longer with us and who have not been so lucky to celebrate another birthday. Today I remember and feel the pain of lost loved ones and all who lost their battle to illness, accidents, violence and the pandemic. May their spirits Rest In Peace.

Today I disappear and go on another three day adventure with Mother Nature to put my own troubles on pause for a little while. To push myself to new heights and distract the mind from the first Birthdays without you. I will do my best to lift my spirits because I know there are people that work hard for this day to be special for me, and I appreciate it beyond words. It will be a time to simply be for me, and to let the emotions come as they are. I am doing my best and they say that the first year is the worst when you lost someone. Birthdays and holidays take on a different meaning and they sure do.

The importance is not to lose sight of the light because tough times will always surface from time to time. Today I will try to remember us both, our birthdays one day apart, and the gift and time we shared towards the end.

Stay tuned…I can’t wait to tell you about my new adventure. Memories are waiting to be made.

Posted in Loss, Mom

Happy Birthday in Heaven

I cried a lot this week Mom. I wish I could write a post celebrating you and telling you how much I miss you, but today I just can’t coax a cheerier self out of me. The whole week has been a struggle leading up to our birthdays, a time that was always special for us. You always said that I should have hurried up making my appearance into the world, because we could have celebrated on the same day instead of being one day apart. Well I think we celebrated together anyways and we just made it last a little longer. Although we celebrated many years apart from each other, and today this fact breaks my heart and I wish I could change it.

I woke up with hypertension stage 1 today and this has become rare for me, but was I surprised! No, not really and I knew today was not going to be ok. As I sit here remembering you, I struggle to put the words to paper that fill my heart. The small task of selecting a picture for this post brought tears and drove the pain a little deeper. I decided on this one because you are out and away from the nursing home you hated so much. You wear regular clothing and you are smiling big. I wish I could have seen this smile in person, but I was already gone by the time this picture came about.

The nursing home provided the care you needed and you knew it, but it took you away from your home and I hated the decision that had to be made, placing you there as soon as I arrived in Germany. It was awful and I was backed into a corner with no choice. I will never forget. There wasn’t a day I didn’t struggle with it and I still do. I know you couldn’t have survived as long you did without it, but it doesn’t make it easier, especially when I still hear you say that you had no reason to go on living if you had to be in there. It seems like it was an impossible decision for me to make, and both outcomes would have weighed heavy on me. I couldn’t win. How would I have felt if you died because I didn’t do everything in my power for you? How could I have done that? Didn’t you do the same for me as I was little and couldn’t care for myself? You cared for me and did everything in your power. And no, you didn’t place me in a home, but you could handle me and pick me up, something I couldn’t do for you as you couldn’t walk anymore. Would it have been enough and outweighed the point that I had to go against your wishes? I don’t know and I did what had to be done. Still I hated it and always wished it could have been different. Today and always, being an empath, I still carry the many hardships and sorrows of your life and don’t know how to not feel bad and deeply saddened about them.

Nearly ten months have past since heaven got a new angel and I can’t tell you enough how much you are missed. The waves of grief come and go, sometimes better, sometimes worse, and today feels as if I lost you all over again. I know you know and I have seen you around more as dragonflies have returned and surround me all the time. This week has been hard and I even created a diversion, birthday week, trying to keep my spirits up.

Having our birthdays so close together with you gone now, has taken on a painful meaning. I don’t know right now how I will ever look forward to another birthday, feeling this pain again and again. It’s just not the same and it never will be again. It has turned into a time of pain, sorrow and such immense heartache, it takes my breath away. I remember crying and crying, every day, for months after you passed. Eventually it got a little better and I could smile at the memory of you. Today I am right back to those early days and I guess it’s normal and the loss is still raw. Some would say that things will get better in time but I know it won’t. It never did with Dad and it never did with Nikki. Perhaps I feel too deeply and can’t get beyond it.

Mom, I love you and I am sorry for our lost time. All the years that we spent without each other, it seems impossible to me now and I don’t know how I ever managed to leave. I was so young, trying to live my own life, be strong and independent just like you were. I am sorry for leaving you behind, feeling lost, alone and lonely all these years. I am sorry I was a long distance daughter, your blood, only family member and closest contact thousands of miles away. I struggled all my life trying to win your acceptance as a daughter and to gain your love. “You and your feelings” you used to say, unable to step over your bitter feelings towards me for leaving you behind. I never realized you felt this way until years later. In the end spending 10 month with you, you finally accepted me and your wall lowered. It’s what I always wanted, right? Well I can tell you that in the end, losing you, hurt more than I could have ever imagined. I can’t say it would have been easier if you stayed mad at me, if you continued to reject and fight me. My love for you never wavered and was unconditional throughout. I just wanted to be your daughter and hoped to make you proud.

I am sorry I could not take you out of the nursing home and bring you home. I am sorry I wasn’t there during your final hours to hold your hand and take away the fear. And I am sorry I am still so far away, unable to visit you and Dad or bring flowers to your final resting place. I am still not able to take care of your house that you left behind and which is now mine. I am working on it, but today I don’t even know if I can keep it in the long run. I struggle with that as well. It was your everything, but the memory of it and the pain of all the lonely hours spent there reside within it’s walls. It was there where your tears fell, being alone, without Dad, without me and it is hard to bare. Time will tell if I can live with the memory and smile some day or if it will only bring sadness and the constant memory be too difficult.

Mom, I love you with all my heart. Happy birthday in heaven. Say hi to Dad for me.

Posted in Life, Mom

Thinking of you today and always

Happy Mother’s Day in heaven Mom. Today is just a little tougher than other days, and this year is the first Mother’s Day without you. Holiday and days like these will always be a little harder and take me back a little further to the memory of you. It’s days like these I wish I could at least stop by your resting place, bring you flowers and just stay for awhile. But even that is not possible being so far away. I know you would say that I wanted it that way and that I was the one who left. I was, but I could have never known the consequences of this move and how it would affect me over the course of my lifetime, and yours. I am grateful that Moni was able to bring you flowers for me, and still it’s not the same.

Nearly eight months have passed since you are gone and some days it still feels so fresh as if it was just yesterday. The pain reminds me of what you must have felt when Dad passed so young. I can only wish that as many people as possible don’t have to experience this feeling for as long as possible. For it is life changing and a pain that never goes away. It’s a pain you are left with for the rest of your life, a big hole that will never heal itself, and an emptiness that can’t be filled.

I miss you much and I love you more than you ever knew. The ray for me on this special day, even I can’t celebrate it with you, is that you are reunited with Dad and that you are in good hands.

Never forgotten you continue to live within my heart. Until we see each other again.

Happy Mother’s Day.