Signs of the Divine...or just batsh*t craziness?
Good Morning, lovely one. I must admit to you, this cheerful "morning stuff" is not easy for me. In fact, it's so against my natural grain that after only one short week, my higher self is getting a wee bit cranky. I missed yesterday's posting because of a social engagement the night before. Enjoying life does throw a monkey wrench into things! Oh dear. I may simply need to switch over to a "Good Evening, Darling" message. We shall see. (As grown women ~ and human beings ~ we are allowed to change our minds. With no justification, explanation or remorse. Did you know that? It's true, darling!)
Outside of that, I've been having a rather challenging twenty-four hours ~ sorting through paperwork and attempting to ruthlessly purge. I'm sure you're at least a tad familiar with this process. It can be exasperating. And yet when it's over, it is extremely cleansing on a deeper level ~ like driving your soul through the car wash.
Quite honestly, I've been avoiding my filing cabinets as if they contain the bubonic plague ever since my move two months ago...because, in some ways, they do!
And so, it was of no great surprise to me that as I sorted through the reams of paper this past evening, I found myself dissolving into tears. Paperwork ~ also known as evidence ~ of a life that simply no longer exists. Of medical bills and school plays and report cards and notes from camp counselors talking about my son's twinkling eyes and insatiable curiosity, amazing vocabulary and "way with words"...even at the tender age of five. And not just evidence of Cole, but of his father. And of his siblings and the family of five we once were. Photographs and home repair records and hand-drawn moving announcements and ...well, the stuff of which a life is made. And in our case, an amazingly creative one.
It's all left me more than a bit emotionally depleted.
I feel fortunate to have these souvenirs of a life so filled with abundance and joy (and challenges!) but also, a bit annoyed, frankly, to have had it taken away. There really is nothing anyone can do or say when people we love are no longer physically with us. And even if we believe in the magic of eternity, and that we live on forever in some form, it doesn't take away the ache of no longer being able to hold a husband or son, or anyone we have loved so fully and so deeply. I'm sure you know what I mean.
But life is made up of more than merely what we can see before our eyes...and our limited sensory perception doesn't show us the entire story. And since losing my husband and son, I am not simply
a little bit sure of this, but 100%. I don't just believe it. I know it to be true.
Because, since they've "moved on" a lot of otherworldly, freaky shenanigans have occurred. And
I hold them at least partially responsible. :)
But in addition to those things, which I'm not delving into right now (because I am lacking the emotional capacity at this early hour!)...amazing little things happen all of the time. And here's one teensy example I'd love to share ~ not only because it's sweet and makes my heart smile~ but because it's about my October birthday, and it's still...October. And therefore, timely!
As most of you have already surmised, I am in the midst of a torrid and life-long love affair with
vintage treasures. Having said that, I stumbled upon this tiny Birthday Book at an antique shop "many moons ago." (A saying I am voting to resurrect, by the way!)
Birthday Books were meant for recording the birth dates of loved ones and acquaintances, and were often embellished with beautiful illustrations and poetic tidbits. (Yes, they actually used civilized and artistically pleasing tools such as this...prior to social media alerts.) You can still purchase "birthday books." Archaic as that may sound to some, I'm certain it won't surprise you that I myself have owned several. They bring us back to a more sensual and pleasurable time when we acknowledged fewer birthdays, perhaps...but in a more deeply humane and meaningful way. And we didn't have things beeping and buzzing to remind us of our 1,899 closest "friends" special days. (Sarcasm intended, darling.)
If we are to believe the opening page, this book was owned by a woman (or girl) named Ellen H. Morse. It's only a few inches tall and is cradled nicely when in the palm of my hand. Having always been a fan of all things tiny, and having crafted a good number of hand-bound books, myself, I considered it to be quite a magnificent if diminutive addition to my trove of treasures.
I don't recall the exact year that we came upon one another...but it was somewhere between my husband's "moving on" and my son's "moving on" (I seriously pray they are hanging out together, because I'm slightly irritated with both of them for running out on us and thereby never again being
on the receiving end of a birthday alert).
So I've had this book for quite a while~ but it had disappeared on me. Hidden under who knows what. Lucky for me, my recent move has caused many items to become "unearthed"...and so, the Birthday Book has resurfaced. Oh happy day!
My daughter opened it and began gently turning the tiny, aged pages, only to discover that not only were there three people listed as sharing the date of my birth ~ October the 10th ~ but that one of them was the book's owner...Ellen Morse!
Based on other tidbits of "evidence" in the book, despite the missing "middle initial" I feel certain it is the owner herself who shares my birthday, and not her daughter or other relative. And I'm sticking with that story. Because clearly, Ellen and I are kick-ass Libra soul-sisters.
Three hundred and sixty-five days upon which she could have been born, and she was born on my birthday. Or I was born on hers, since she was born in 1908. More than a few years prior to me!
I've treasured this sweet book for so long. I recall bringing it home with me because I felt drawn to it ~ and that we were meant to find one another.
And now I know why. And I admit to no longer being at all shocked when things like this happen.
Because...that's how the Universe operates. We are absolutely not in this alone. Tiny delights and surprises and miracles happen everyday. And the big miracles that we often wish could have happened for us...like NOT prematurely losing someone who was right at the center of our world. Well, I know one day, we'll be surprised by the truth of all of that, as well.
Meanwhile, we must keep on paying attention. Knowing in our hearts that miracles and bat-**** crazy things happen on the daily.
And on that note ~ I once again bid you a gentle adieu. May your eyes be open to the miraculous, the mundane, and everything in between that makes this life a roller-coaster of wondrousness. And weirdness. And now, I think I need a Holy Donut to go with my green tea.
ps ~ Holy Donuts are real things. If you're ever in the Portland, Maine area...you must indulge!