A SOUL STORY—CONNECTING THE DOTS

MATTHEW LAURENT ALLARD #13

“You can’t connect the dots by looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something . . . because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart even when it leads you off the well worn path . . . “

From Steve Jobs commencement address at Stanford 2005

I love looking at these letters and numbers. Simple, easy to see where the dots lay and when connected give life to Matty’s initials (Matthew Laurent Allard) and the #13, our validation number from Matt. Add the sparkles and Matty’s initials go through a rebirth of sorts. Something bright and shiny creating an air of excitement, catching my attention—letting me know that simple is grand when I turn my awareness switch on. This is what I experienced at the BPUSA conference earlier this month. The following drawing tells a true soul story, one that is continuing to be revealed to me.

ORIGINAL ART CHALK PASTELS 

Matty's message at BPUSA continues to sit so strongly with me. I ask . . . is this not a validation of soul planning, of a life contract predetermined prior to birth and of a message that continues to show the beauty and gifts from grief?

At 10 or 11years old, Matty was guided to place the word “Coo” prominently in the middle of his art to be recognized 25+ years later after his transition . . . an event taking place the first Father’s Day after his passing. It all began with the mid-week sighting of a mourning dove by my husband and I. Matty as a young boy had a deep connection to mourning doves. They were his natural alarm, gently waking him mornings for many months and years of his life.  I knew that I wanted to publish a special tribute to Matt in the Voice of Grief blog for this Father’s Day, one that was not to be physically spent with his family. I wanted to show the differing sides of Matty as he grew, something Addy and Bear may appreciate as they grew older. Bruce and I watched the single dove standing in our driveway and I asked him, “do you think that could be Matt’s energy sending us a sign?”  The question was followed by a poem, words that came not from my own thoughts but inspired words that simply flowed. Inspired words that I was getting use to receiving, on this day themed around the mourning dove. 

FOREVER THINGS

The Sun, the Moon,

The Rain, the Breeze.

The Stars, the Sky

Our Magick Tree.

You see them.

You hear them.

You feel them.

They are real.

A Daddy’s Love,

His kisses,

His hugs,

His wishes for you are real.

Things are different now,

Between you and me.

. . . Just for a little while.

You can’t see me

Or hear me.

Or feel me,

From the Outside.

But . . . 

If you open your heart,

Be very quiet and still,

And close your eyes,

You’ll feel me.

You’ll hear me.

You’ll see me.

I’m on the Inside now.

When you see a Mourning Dove,

Listen for its’ Coo.

I’ve come home to build a nest

And live right next to you.

That flutter you feel in your heart

Is me Hugging you.

When you feel a tickle in your ear.

I’m Whispering sweet things to you.

I’m a thought,

A nudge,

I’m in your Dreams.

My Love is all around you.

I’ll protect you,

I’ll guide you

Call out my name.

Whenever you need.

I’m by your side always,

I’m your Daddy.

I Love you.

I’m your Forever Thing.

Inspired by Matty in Spirit

Pictures of young Matty, a poem Addy’s daycare teacher had given to her written for her Daddy, adult Matty holding his niece for the first time . . . love captured in a collage.  I remembered that my brother had really liked Matty's drawing and he had gifted it to him. I knew that he had held onto it all these years and it would make a nice addition to our Matty tribute. I hadn’t seen the art in all this time and do not remember the word “coo” from its first creation. I asked Ray to send a digital copy and I posted it early Father’s Day morning. It wasn’t until 6:00 pm that I noticed the word “coo” in the middle of the drawing. I had been intrigued by Matty’s use of color and the outlines in black he incorporated that made everything pop, and that was where my focus lay that day. When I paused and took in the entire piece of artwork, I saw the “coo” for the first time. I asked if anyone else had seen this message hidden to me and many were surprised as it was the first thing they associated with Matty’s poem.

This story continues to be one of my favorites and I brought it with me to BPUSA to share as an example of one of Matty’s signs and inspired words.

What happened next, took my breath away. The teddy bear, not ready to be noticed, sitting in the middle "O"  of the word coo since I had posted in 2015 (or 25+ years prior for that matter) was made visible and brought to everyone's attention at  my workshop presentation by another—Dorcas Williams. She is a heart-connected Mom that I met for the very first time at the conference while attending my presentation. Dorcas’ soul shines brightly and she is a treasure to anyone lucky enough to cross paths with her. She was looking at Matty’s art projected onto a 10’ screen and asked about the teddy bear in the center of the “O”?  The room paused to take a look at what was taking up residence in the “O”. I was stunned! Dorcas led me to a new discovery and was giving me the opportunity to tell the rest of this soul story. Up to this point, I had not made mention of Matty’s children by name; Addalynn is his daughter and Bear is his son.  Matty was quiet about his spiritual experiences. After much questioning and pushback on legally naming his son Bear, he told me he had had a vision and was guided to name his son Bear. The gasps and wow’s were audible. What had we all been privy to?

We were witnesses to the layers of events that transpired to show us the truth in Matty's life contract; his soul speaking to him, recognized or not at 10 years old, unveiling a validation of a major future event in his life. His free will exercised prior to his birth in this earthly life, nudged and reminded of subconsciously or not by his soul as his pastels turned a piece of paper into a validation made clear by his Spirit in my today. His artwork seen in 2015 came to me as a sign, it is what my heart was ready and waiting for then. In 2018, my soul was ready for more and Matty affirmed through another, not just for me but for a room filled with attendees waiting to hear about “What is Grief Teaching Me?”  Grief is teaching me and in this instance an entire room, that insight can be delivered when least expected. Signs and synchronicities can and do involve a number of people. Messages can be meant for more than one. He was presenting a lesson in soul awakening, teaching us to see with our hearts connected to our souls, connected to Spirit. Proof of our soul contracts . . . a modern day unfurling. Hindsight—connecting the dots, looking backwards to see the beautiful outline of the big picture the look was bringing forth. An example of patience, how an open mind and heart and TRUSTING spirit that insight is presented not on our time, but at a time for the highest good. We experienced the beauty in what grief has to offer. A gift received that gives meaning and understanding to the hard, hard emotional pain and suffering that comes with physical death, yet births spiritual growth and healing as part of the process. It added a divine seal to our purpose, Matty and I. It carries me from survive to thrive and lights up the tools of belief, awareness and experience. It has laid to rest the questions of whofor, whatfor, wherefor, whyfor, whenfor that swirled in my human heart.

My observation, my noticing does not deliver me to definitive conclusions to the questions of the ages asked and debated regarding the workings of consciousness, the soul or essence and what transpires after death. These questions, posed for centuries by the great philosophers, theosophists, scientists and physicists continue to offer more than enough fodder for debate. I have a soul and I am having soul experiences. I cannot simply look at my world through a single lens, a human lens and gain insight. I can ask my soul the important questions and have been blessed with a glimpse into a soul remembrance yet I do not have expectations that by simply asking, all will be revealed. There is beauty in the mystery and gifts bestowed that soften some of life’s tragedies. There are no words in the human vocabulary, nor human experiences, nor human intelligence alone that can answer man’s existential questions.  Spirit holds the key to the door, that when unlocked, will transcend human understanding; defining through a sense of everlasting knowing that which Spirit only is meant to experience. I am re-living, re-seeing, experiencing anew events on my own grief journey seen through my human lens over the last few years. I am now being given the opportunity to reexamine my grief journey with a view gained while peering through my spiritual lens as Matty in spirit guides me to new insights. The process, the journey, the transformation continues. For now, I will soak in the feelings of awe, wonder, Love and comfort that Spirit allows me to walk with; grateful for the deepening understanding and sharing of our soul stories. We heal as we share, of this I am sure.

I trust Matty’s Spirit, my soul, my intuition, the divine mysteries held in life, death, and the in-between. Steve Jobs' quote hold sage words defining “hindsight” for me as I traverse this zig-zaggedy path in reconnecting with Matty in Spirit. I have asked some BIG questions and have received some BIG answers albeit not delivered in English to my right ear! This is the biggest puzzle I have ever attempted to piece together. I discover that the pieces have not all come in one box; rather, are doled out when needed, when the timing is right. Some pieces aren’t even in the box and may be delivered by someone nudged to give me the next piece, not even knowing they were holding a very important part of this puzzle. The puzzle may not be solely meant for me but may be intended for viewing, for reflection and acceptance by others as well. It’s not important that I am in possession of every piece of the puzzle. The outline reveals a good, great glimpse of the big picture.

Hindsight allows me to connect the dots and my new memories with Matty, through his signs and synchronicities, now have a “remember when” ring to them.  “Remember Mom when I said this . . . or showed you that?” This is our new language—our new form of communication my, son and I—on-going communications that I am brought back to for deeper meaning as my heart is open and my soul is ready. He’s showing me how to look at things differently yet feel the strong connection that was and still is. Remembering his words, his motivation in Spirit to me, a universal message from Spirit to you from your beloved—blessing us all if we allow:

“As your broken heart heals, as you are in your long goodbye to the me that was . . . You create space for the me that still and always is right next to you, sitting in your heart . . . Keep going. I’m here. I will lead you to find your soul, your higher self. This is the you who is with me now. Then you can know we are together still . . . even between the signs. "

From Matty in Spirit to Rachel Pearson Spring 2018
With much Love,

Diane 

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TRANSFORMATION—LEARNINGS DELIVERED IN HINDSIGHT

A NEW SPRING

Transformation, arriving like a gentle giant—slowly, unexpectedly with the force of unassuming power. Felt physically in my heart space as a compression and when unfurled, expands my Love and understanding beyond the walls that encase the travails of my journey. There are no boundaries to Divine Love . . . mine is an open heart ready to receive and welcome change.

Where to begin? Have I ever mentioned that I view my healing journey not in linear time—minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, but in seasons? Seasons like the four seasons experienced in New England but not necessarily following the order of our natural earthly divides. Grief arrived in WINTER for me. Literally. Matthew passed in January, yet it was the mind and body numbing cold; the physical feel of the cold, the frosted breath that would catch in my throat, the inability to get warmth to my core, the sounds of sorrow crunching my lungs with every inhale. Winter’s gloom had a hold on me—my heart, my mind, my body, my spirit. It took a long period to get to Spring that first year, and then Winter reappeared out of order, ushered in with a trigger after Spring and Summer at the moment of the Fall harvest, put on hold until the cold was tended to. 

Winters now are never as raw and cold as those first few Winters. They feel more temperate, like a North Carolina winter these days. The seasons bring forth change and a transformation to my landscape. I find myself in a Spring of my grief. I have mourned and grieved with every ounce of my human spirit. The very hard emotional work has planted seeds for lessons in grief to bloom as can only be seen through the eyes of my spiritual lens. I continue to be made aware of the dualities that make up my earthly life. I live however, between two worlds. 

My spirit human is ready to be guided to a new understanding of what these dualities look like when experienced by soul spirit as I continue on in human breath. This is all very new to me. It feels like a merging. What comes to mind is a comparison of how the body heals a bruise. I cannot tell you medically how bruising is defined or the processes the body goes though in healing. I do know that a bruise speaks to me of injury when I see an explosion of color on my skin and I am able to observe some kind of absorption taking place within, resulting in the colors fading back to nothing, leaving no mark. I do not have to be privy to the intricacies of how my body heals. I have a great reverence for the human body, its Creator and if healed, my lessons will continue until I complete what I have come here to learn, in the capacity I am meant to serve.  I imagine that grief sitting in my heart is akin to bruising. The light that went out of my eyes, the tears that fell, the breath that was short, the color that left my face, the posture that was hunched—these were outward, physical signs that grief was sitting in my heart. As the seasons of grief flow, Joy and Love are slowly absorbing my grief. In so doing, my grief has transformed. It still sits in my heart and like a bruise can re-appear when triggered, when the heart is hurting. The absorption has created more space for beauty to enter, for the clarity that fuels my emotional and spiritual growth and makes room for embracing divine messages that affirm eternal Life, Love and an appreciation for the mystery of my God and the ONENESS of our Everlife Home.

The season's cycle of rain and humidity finally broke today and I could feel the change happening in my body starting yesterday. Never before have I associated what was happening internally and physically to me with what Nature was delivering externally. A conversation with a friend this week brought up questions of what and why was I holding onto? Why was I creating a damp, heavy, internal emotional environment so strong that it affected my sense of smell? Why was my body holding fluids making me feel like a soaked sponge? What was it going to take to wring this out of me? The great resources of silence and reflection brought me to new insights on the connection between my inner and outer worlds. A first lesson requiring a look through my spiritual lens, gaining a better understanding of ONENESS, the absorption, the merging of myself with a cycle in Nature. In response to asking Matty/Spirit for guidance earlier this year, the following words were brought forth:  

“As your broken heart heals, as you are in your long goodbye to the me that was . . . You create space for the me that still and always is right next to you, sitting in your heart.

This is a cliché that I live in your heart? A worn-out line in love songs, or a feel-good mantra? No, this is not cliché. This is truth and the poets, the artists . . . they always know first. They often know, not knowing what they even know.

Keep going. I’m here. I will lead you to find your soul, your higher self. This is the you who is with me now. Then you can know we are together still . . . even between the signs” 

~Matty's words in spirit delivered through Rachel Pearson, Spirit Messenger

A message from my son in spirit that feels like a continuing conversation, synchronicities that continue to circle his words of wisdom . . . how can this be? Belief in the divine order of life, the soul plan, trust, an open heart and a soul nudged to remembering will lead me to where I need to be. I have a beautiful story to tell that comes out of my presentation at the BPUSA Conference this year that will affirm Matty’s words once again.

These spirit inspired words I’ve written in this post serve as a forward, an introduction to the upcoming story . . . yes, “I’ve”. I have had a very uncomfortable time in the past trying to figure out what my role is in the words and messages that I scribe and add to from Matty's in spirit. Many have helped me to see, and the phrase that brings clarity is “I am the instrument but the connection is mine”. I believe this is what Matty has been waiting for. Acknowledgment and acceptance of my part in our combined purpose; planting seeds for a shift in perspective with Grief. Certainly for me as I walk my unique journey and with hope that some things resonate within others, allowing for a change in perception that suffering need not last for this earthly lifetime. Re-connecting with our beloved is very real and tangible and living lives through the soul’s remembrance of Divine Love will create a change in thoughts. Thoughts that have the power to create. Thoughts are energy and I wonder and imagine what all of we—heart-connected through the passing of a loved one—experiencing a shift and knowing that Love never dies, gathering and building good thoughts as Love expands our human hearts, cheered on by our souls as we live our lives as the best Humans we can possibly be. Is this what is meant by changing the world one thought at a time? Through all the pain and sorrow, allowing for the beauty and the gifts, can we create a new modern day wonder to be added to the ancient 7 Wonders of the World?

. . . stay tuned, the story will be next and coming soon.

Much Love,
Diane

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NATURE'S LUNA MOTH—A DEPOSIT OF LOVE TO THE HEART

The Luna Moth—Actius luna

Have you ever been visited by a creature from a wonder tale? Something so beautiful it takes your breath away? Something that feels as though it dropped in to surround you and fill you up with a magical, mystical feel? Something so precious you know there is a special message connected to it?

This is our wonder tale. Bampy and I enjoyed a very family-centric weekend with all four grands delighting us with their laughter, joy, innate happiness, offering us continuous glimpses of the invisible bond of love they have for each other. Yes, the referee suit went on when the band of cousins dissolved into chaos and called for an instant replay to determine if a refresher course on sharing was in order however, these moments were few and far in-between. Bruce and I are rewarded with watching how “best friends” care for each other—our wish for Jason and Matty now handed down to the next generation.

Jaelyn was the first to notice the big yellow butterfly that was hovering at the top of one of our trees in the backyard. It was mid-morning and we were playing a game of Lawn Memory Match. She said it was her Poppy saying hello and Addy chimed in that is was her Daddy too. Energies were combined because what followed later in the day and into the next morning was pure Love—new memories for all. I love seeing the reaction of small children when beauty touches their hearts. The butterfly sighting opened all eyes and placed them on alert for the fascinating life that lives in nature.

The Bug Lover—the Curious One

In early afternoon, our bug lover Jordyn spotted a very large light green butterly (or moth??) on the back side of the house. It was hanging below eye-level for the littles. I had never before seen an insect like this and its beauty mesmerized me. I was filled with a feeling of peace and calm, gentleness—an indescribable feeling that stilled time. We all became engaged with this magical visitor. Jordyn, ever so curious, inspected the winged creature.  It flitted from the stone of the house to my lap and the glee I heard, oh how I wish I would have had time to record! But that’s the thing about memories—everlasting ones. You can visit the scene as if you were there whenever you wish to recall. It’s as if the heart has a storage bank that captures the precious moments of the day at the exact time the memory is made. Four children, embraced by sunlight and a warm breeze, hands clapping and feet bouncing. No words, simply joy heard in the ripples of laughter. I asked for a stick so that we could help our new friend to a safer spot. In a flash I was handed a twig, a once living part of a backyard tree. Severed and blown to the ground, its new purpose came to life—transformed into an emergency transport vehicle, sirens blaring to the nearest silver birch where safety and a perfect view was secured for our new visitor.

 

THE SPY SQUATS, Addy's name for the gang.
Imagination in full play. Not quite an ad-adult (this is her word for adult)
words sometimes get recreated and mispronounced!

There were moments of play and they’d each come back to the tree to see and pepper this insect with questions. Where did you come from? How come you’re still here? Are you dead? Are you sleeping? Are you watching us play? And a bit of gratitude: We’re so excited to have you here. After a few hours, and stunned that this beautiful specimen was still with us, I had a moment to research what exactly had graced us this Saturday morn and afternoon. Google, the wise sage of the unseen world of connections, brought up photos of the Luna Moth. I learned its Latin species name is Actius luna. This particular species is native to certain areas in North America and the temperature of their terrain determines the numbers of generations produced yearly. In New England, one generation is produced and an insect emerges from its cocoon in late May to mid June. Most of life happens in the larva and pupa stages for the Luna Moth. Sightings are rare as the Luna Moth is nocturnal, attracted to the light of the moon. If you want to experience the sight of this insect, a flashlilght is your friend, it is suggested. Be sure to leave the back porch light on is another. The moth will eclose as an adult with a life span of a week. It does not have a mouth—its purpose is to mate. I imagine it has an additional purpose which is to continue to release beauty, gentleness and pure love into a world that is soiled by unkindness, hatred, disrespect and violence.

It has no mouth. This knowledge alone made me aware of so many emotions and feelings running around my heart knocking at my soul’s door.  Matty’s energy. Wordless communication of Love. I instinctively knew that a powerful  message was going to be delivered but the time wasn’t yet right. It was the correct time however, to stay in the moment with our Luna Moth, listen intently as my heart waited. I could feel Love being poured into me. Comfort. My soul whispering a long held memory “I’m coming home, Mom . . . I’m coming home.”  

We checked in on our guest before bedtime and he (yes, a male Luna Moth) remained hanging from his resting place. When the sun rose on Sunday, Father’s Day our Luna Moth was found a bit higher up on the trunk of the tree. What tales could he tell us about his nighttime excursions or was he simply gaining a higher view to watch over the children as they bunked up on a futon and air mattresses sprinkled throughout the living room. They think it’s an adventure to move bedding around so that they can all be together. Cousin Love. There is something so special about it. It’s like a magical memory, imprinted on the heart. An unseen wonder and a forever connection with the ability to be recalled regardless of the number of years gone by. The kids were elated as they peered at their buddy from the inside. He was now a part of our Father’s Day celebration. 

My first question of the day, Jordyn asking “Gammy, Gammy, Gammy are you my grandmother”? Yes, I answered and to this she gave me a big smile and a wish of “Happy Father’s Day”. Bampy was greeted with their impromptu singing of Happy Father’s Day to the tune of Happy Birthday to you. From the mouths of babes . . . tiny mouths that communicate Love from the inside to the outside. Our friend the Luna Moth communicating from the inside to the inside. There is so much about communication that can be learned from having an open heart. 

Nikki came early to pick up her two, Addy and Bear. Bear greeted her with the words “Momma, Momma, you can’t wait to see our butterfly”. He brought her to the window and she was able to see and feel for the first time the mystical quality and beauty of a Luna Moth. As Nikki was taking in the sight, her Apple Watch rang and a photo of the Moth that I had texted her the day before popped up on her screen. The second time within a few weeks that Matty has sent an uninitiated, validating message through our texting. Soon after Nikki had taken in this experience, the Luna Moth flew away.

The Luna Moth visitation—a first for all of us. A first not mired in sadness with missing Matty on a special day. His spirit ushered in the joy of the day. A first with Matty and the unseen symbolism of the Luna Moth. We are all healing. This is our rebirth. The transformative ability of Spirit to guide us to Love—a Love that needs no words. A Love that protects. A Love that is birthed from our soul and gifted to our heart while we continue to live our very best human experience.

This poem came up in my search of the Luna Moth. We are all free to interpret our messages received.

Luna Moth II

There is a chance however small

That you may live to see another dawn

There is in you

I see

a mute understanding of how

short

a moment is

when in your lover’s embrace

you forget how much your stomach aches.

        Yolanda G. McAdam

Shared from Ms. McAdam’s blog Scribblings, The Luna Moth − Two Poems April 29, 2014

Y

Hello Readers . . . 2018 has been filled with new lessons in healing from Matty. What is grief teaching me?, the wisdom of words shared from across the veil have been posted directly to my Facebook page Voice of Grief and not all here on the blog. I am traveling my journey to healing at a much different pace than that first fateful year of learning Matty had physically died in an auto accident. I have enjoyed the heart-connections made over the sharing of our stories. Facebook however, is not sharing the posts with all of you who have “Liked” the page. Please take a moment to subscribe via email (an icon of an envelope appears after my name in the last line of this post allowing you to subscribe) after reading this blog post. Looks like a website is in my future so that Matty’s inspirations can be fully shared with all of you.

If you’d like to catch up on What’s grief teaching me?, please click on the link below.  

Thank you for all the support, comfort and healing you’ve brought to me over the last 3+ years.

With much Love,

Diane

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THE END. IT'S A MYTH . . . LOVE NEVER DIES!

Photographs and videos of Matty, mediums I thoroughly enjoy as my past continues to be a bridge to my present. In moving forward in my grief, I needed to visualize what my son in spirit may look like . . . impossible to know as my eyes see the human being. However, my soul yearns for the spirit to spirit connection and that I can try and see as my soul is carried along with the human side of me, nourished by breath and Love in this human experience.

Golden Light . . . free, not earthbound.
I can imagine!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately Matthew, about how you may look in Spirit. I came across this GIF file the other day and it made my heart skip a beat. I believe this may be you. Fly free, fly high, soar my Sweetheart—you’re not earthbound anymore! I hear, I read that death is nothing more than a transformation of energy to a different dimension—Heaven. Look at the transformations this bird goes through! Infinite orbs of golden light—shining, twinkling, changing shape and size. Are these your memories, your personality and character traits? Are you held together by Love? Consciousness, the soul does not have a physical body, yet I can see you, through you, around you. You are here, then there. Are you everywhere—a thought, a breath, a scent, a vision of beauty, a sound? Looks as though you are spreading light? Is this how we feel you—does your Love leave a trail of laughter and joy, are you filling our hearts with comfort, our souls with peace? Your energy appears forceful, strong, determined. You are Light you are Love—you continue to live in our hearts, our souls, in the Beyond. We are connected, we are One.

GIF by Aesthetics C o l o r s

from Voice of Grief blogpost "Golden Light Forever'mor

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When is GOD coming?

On a beautiful sunny afternoon, family and friends gathered at St. Raphael’s Church for Addy’s Holy Baptism. Churches, they look like princess castles to Addy Rose. She was dressed in white with a wreath of fresh flowers sitting atop her bouncy, brown curls, the picture of innocence. We gathered around the baptismal pool, sitting in pews awaiting the arrival of the parish priest and attempting to convince Bear that the pool was not for swimming. Father John makes his entrance and greets Addy first as this is her very special day. He shakes her hand and asks her what she thinks of this day. Addy looks him square in the eyes and answers with her own question “So, when is God coming?”

Our Little One got a good laugh from the crowd gathered. From the mouth of Babes, simple words yet if I listen carefully I can hear the echo of mine over the years. I was raised in a family with great faith yet I never had a personal experience of God or perhaps was unaware and did, was unable to discern. It’s a question I asked when my Dad was dying of Lymphoma, when a newly married good friend died in his 20’s, when my first marriage was failing, when diagnoses of incurable diseases and cancers afflicted family members. This question ” When is God coming?” started me on my spiritual journey: a quest to find answers to this question and others with a desire to gain knowledge about the time from breath to no breath and the in-between. I have always been drawn to the mysticism in my Catholic faith. I could feel the experiences of the soul in the shared stories of my youth and my own readings later in life. The connection to the Divine felt attainable; the goodness and compassion a model I could be guided to follow. Spirituality felt gentler to me than the fear exuded from the Old Testament of the Bible.

I had done my fair share of reading, questioning and seeking by the time Matty’s death occurred. My eyes had been opened, my heart softened and my soul was constantly nudging me to grow, to remember to continue learning. I was able to express gratefulness days after the accident even though my heart was numb—grateful to have been Matthew’s mother, to have shared living life with him. Grateful that I had a heart full of memories and then the thought . . . perhaps if the heart can hold onto the memory of gratefulness in such a dark time, then joy and happiness and awe and wonder and laughter and peace may simply be frozen yet held in a state of spiritual grace waiting for Hope to begin her long process of melting, loosening, dissolving the ice, releasing these emotions from my heart,

Grief and reflection are my peanut butter and jelly—they just go together as I work through the process. I’ve heard the following words spoken and written countless times, “I can’t imagine how you go on after the death of a child”. I’ve given them much thought over the years. First of all, it’s not a process I can reverse so my choices are limited. I’ve come to the conclusion that the statement is made simply from the human perspective. It’s filled with a mother’s worse fear and there is a dead end to the statement that fogs the road forward from view. Finding myself in this situation and choosing to move towards healing, the answer for me lies in the spiritual gifts the Divine has allowed me to see, to experience. Yes, I have finally had my personal experiences with God’s Love. I’ve seen without a doubt that Love never dies. Matthew not only lives in my heart but lives all around. He sees, he guides, he answers, his spirit helps in time of need. Trying to process such a gut wrenching blow without the experience of Divine intervention, without a belief in the Afterlife/Everlife, in the absence of a belief in the soul and a soul planned life would seem like an insurmountable feat. My answer to that former statement is uttered from the two halves that make me whole—my perfectly imperfect human nature sharing space with the spiritual that carries me forward and guides me to see that physical death is absorbed as an ending to the human me but acknowledged as a new beginning to the spiritual me. Beginnings move me forward, endings hold me in place. A new beginning allows me to rediscover my relationship with Matty, to know that the misery of an end is not what I hold in my heart. Love has helped me shed the fear of living a life with an ending. Love allows me to see Matty in spirit. His legacy of Love continues to touch the hearts of the many he’d touched in his earthly lifetime.

I’d been contemplating writing a blog post to go along with Addy’s question and like all words Matty inspired, this post has taken on a life of its own. I had experienced grief touching Bear’s heart the week before. Wednesdays are Gammy sleepover nights. I was in the parking lot of the grocery store lifting Bear from his car seat. We were at that eye to eye level moment before putting him down when out of nowhere he tells me. “ I want my Daddy come down from Heaven. I want to see him. I miss him”. A golf-ball size lump filled my throat, I could not speak but knew he needed an answer. I was trying fervently to hold tears at bay and began pleading with Matty, with God for immediate Divine assistance in word and feeling. I reiterated what Addy and Bear have been told from the time of the accident, that “Daddy lives in our hearts now”.  I explained that we can't see him, but we can feel him. We know how our hearts feel when we love somebody. When someone we love dies, we are sad because we can't see them with our eyes, the eyes in our head. But Love shows us another way to see and that is with our heart. Our heart eyes can see things that the head eyes cannot.  I figured that was enough depth for one day and started walking towards the store’s entrance. As I was holding Bear’s hand in mine and laden with bags in my other, we were suddenly belted by a huge gust of wind. Let's talk about the wind! It's a beautifully warm day in February . . . unseasonal temperatures for this time of year in New England.  A calm day. When this strong breeze sailed in, I had a knowing that it was an answer to my prayer. A thought immediately entered my mind and I knew it was sent to me to further help Bear in understanding Daddy in spirit. “Gamma, why yore hair in yore face? “ asks Bear. I explain that we can't see the wind, yet we can see how powerful it is. It blew all of Gammy’s hair in her face and she needed to brush it aside so she could see. We can feel the wind, we can’t see it but we can see how it moves the leaves that are still on the trees, how it waves the flag on the flagpole, how it changes the smells in the air. (It smelled like a warm earthy spring that afternoon, no snow on the ground, that moist brown and green of last year’s patches of grass). It’s like Daddy’s Love that is in our hearts. We can’t see it but we can feel it and we know it is a powerful Love. When we rub our hearts we can touch Daddy’s Love. With the wind and four viewings of Moana over the next few days, Bear is able to better understand Daddy’s Love.

Matty’s signs have become more complex and feel more like a conversation. There is no dread or fear. I am filled with awe, wonder and gratitude when we experience Matty in spirit. There is a longing for reconnection, for wisdom, for growth for the experience of the Force that Love is. I am astounded at the strength of Matty's Love and I am also humbled by it, by the Divine orchestration that allows for the connection. I found myself that week,  living in the midst of a set of synchronicities that were ever expanding.

Hindsight is about to make me aware that there is more to come . . .

My friend Rachel was hosting a webinar on the topic of Signs from our beloved the following evening. Unbeknowst to me, Rachel had received messages from the spirits of our beloved (the same night I had my experience with Bear in the parking lot of the grocery store) prior to the start of the webinar. Here is her message from Matthew:

" "As your broken heart heals, as you are in your long goodbye to the me that was…You create space for the me that still and always is right next to you, sitting in your heart. (I see Matty with Baby Bear on his shoulders.) This is a cliché that I live in your heart?  A worn-out line in love songs, or a feel-good mantra? No, this is not cliché. This is truth and the poets, the artists…they always know first. They often know, not knowing what they even know. Keep going. I’m here. I will lead you to find your soul, your higher self. This is the you who is with me now. Then you can know we are together still… even between the signs."

The message is filled with Love, guidance and wisdom. I’m hearing validation that in spirit, he works with me in writing, in sharing. Matty has started off this year by sending quotes, thoughts, sentences that are to be saved for a later date as they are a part of something yet incomplete when standing alone. One saved file is titled “Worn out words” Worn out words and phrases. They exhaust me more than grief. The first two lines that initiate introspection for a blog post to come. There are a barrage of memes posted in social media that are trending. They utilize clichés, overused words without the back up that makes them so rich in truth. The backup, the supportive words are the bearers of messages. They offer nourishment to the heart when tackling the hard work of grief. There is a lesson here for me that Matty will be helping me to understand. Perhaps it is in letting go, recognizing that my path to peace and healing does not lie in these memes.

Another synchronicity . . .

Nikki, out of the blue, sends me a photo of Addy’s Baptism. “I was just strolling down Memory Lane on my phone. Look at Bampy, looking at Bear” she says. “LOVE”.  A nudge I could no longer ignore, this blog post needed to be written and shared.

 I text her back and forward the graphic for this post and email her Matty’s  message through Rachel. “Look what I've been working on . . . I haven't even told you the whole story  . . . how the moments for all of the happenings have come together. The pieces fit like a puzzle. God is the conductor of this symphony called Life. As much sadness that comes from the physical death of our loved ones . . . we can't control or change the outcome but what is in our power, our hearts, soul & consciousness is to become aware of the connections in spirit . . . the utmost guidance, beauty and strength in Love available to us for the remainder of our lives here on Earth. We are living our own version of Moana and Matthew, Source/God have humbled me and brought me to my knees in both sorrow and joy, from expectation bonded to wishing to the awe, wonder and amazement of the spiritual experience. This latest message is for all of us . . . 

And the final synchronicity that lends its hand in answering the question “When is God coming?” . . .

I see a painting by Laura Tomei in a support group and it speaks to me. With Laura’s permission, I am posting her work of art.

Laura asks what we see in the painting and what it means to us. She felt she should share with the group. I respond in a comment and explain that I am living in the midst of a set of synchronicities that is ever expanding and how her art adds another piece, another level.  My analysis of the painting—I reiterate  my words to Nikki as they were meant to be shared here as well. “I am being shown that as much sadness, sorrow and despair that comes from the physical death of our loved ones . . . one cannot control or change the outcome, bring them back to earthly life.  What is in my power; my heart, soul & consciousness is to become aware of the connections in spirit . . . connections offering the utmost guidance, beauty and strength in Love available to me for the remainder of my Earthly life.  Matthew/Spirit/ Source/God have humbled me and brought me to my knees in both sorrow and joy, and from the expectations bonded with wishing to the awe, wonder and amazement of the spiritual experience. It's all waiting, has always been waiting for me to reach through a human, self-created, self-imposed perimeter that initially seemed impenetrable to seeing clearly that the perimeter is simply a pale line of demarcation that I can expand, shrink or erase with awareness, understanding and choice.

Your beautiful painting completes the lesson this latest set of synchronicities is teaching me. Your art paints me a story of the inside/outside view of grief. From the inside, in the beginning the pain is fiery and intense; when I am questioning anything and everything, I shy away from getting too close to the edges of my concealment to see what lies beyond the periphery. From the outside, Spirit is waiting and ready to grab hold of my hands and pull me free, showing me a different more expansive view . . . I help carry my grief along with Spirit's assistance, I see from a new position and am able to experience that which had previously been non-visible to me”.

The learning was unexpected when I first started this journey.  The sorrow overshadowed everything. My determination to continue a relationship with Matty opened my eyes and my heart and the learning began in earnest. It surely is hard work when I meet a difficult lesson face to face, yet the reward of moving forward in healing, the increased signs and synchronicities from my beautiful son in spirit, the knowing that Matty is with me, guiding me, make the risk and the reward of following my heart leading me to experience God/Divine/Source is a lesson that has given rise to my soul remembering, guiding me to trust, to believe in something greater than my human self. The change and expansion of mind and heart let me hear my soul a bit clearer and the lessons come full circle.

I will share God’s language; the language of the heart—LOVE, the spiritual core of every faith seen or unseen by its believers and followers.

What does it mean to experience LOVE? It answers Addy and my question “When is God coming?” Love leaves a mark . . . a permanent imprint like the tiny handprint of a toddler whose fingers have been spread wide, dipped in paint and placed on canvas leaving a colored image of a little hand that forever serves up joy, peace and contentment with every viewing. It’s memories of birth and life and gratefulness and peace are permanent residents of the soul that can be called upon even in the darkest of times to let me know that I am not alone. Ever.

Grief has given rise to the wonder in the mystery of life and death and my longing to know God . . . without fear. In seeking answers, additional questions have been raised.  "Who am I?" seems to be the question that would allow one to collect $200 and pass go in participating in the game of Life. I found the answer lies in the discovery of "Who I AM". Embark on the journey within.  It is teaching me to live life from the inside out. Soft and raw and vulnerable attracts courage and strength to persevere. These characteristics walk with gratefulness—gratefulness, who has the knack of finding peace in the darkest of places.

So when is God coming? When my soul knocks on the door of my heart and teaches me how to see the worlds of Here and Now and Then and After with the eyes of my heart. God has been here all along, waiting patiently for me to learn the lessons spread before me on my spiritual path so that I may speak the words of my Soul planned journey. God is Love. Love is with me always. Matty once sent me a sign “the answers come before the questions”.  A message for me that God has already come and is sticking around!

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Laura Tomei mother to Alexander, is an author, artist, a nurturer to grieving hearts and soul. She created the Facebook Group Between Two Worlds, offering a safe space for bereaved parents who believe in the survival of consciousness to release and express emotions and share the experiences of the continuing connection and bond with our child/children.

She has written Footprints in the Sand—A Symphony of Grief

A synopsis from her page on Amazon:

The sudden suicide of her only child Alexander catapulted Laura Tomei into a surreal world of impossible despair ... Footprints in the Sand is a raw and personal journey affording the reader a first hand insight into the roller-coaster ride of grief. From the most candid heartwrenching descriptions of anguish, the processing and surrendering to what cannot be reversed, and finally the comfort of precious spiritual insights, Laura has crafted a book imbued with a deep, aching sadness for the son who is not there. And yet, he is. For Laura sees him in the house, in the garden, on the stairwell. She sees her son in the morning light and the afternoon sun. His presence is seen, felt and encouraged. She photographs, writes and paints her son back into being. The book is a beautiful tribute to Alex. It may break your heart, but will deepen your understanding of grief and offers hope to those who grieve the loss of a loved one.

Thank you Laura for sharing your art with the Voice of Grief readers.

WHAT IS GRIEF TEACHING ME?

#13 In the series "What is Grief teaching me?"
See Facebook page @Voice of Grief for  Matty inspired lessons on my journey to healing

The first question I have to ask myself is “What kind of peace am I searching for, trying to attain”? Is it World Peace? Inner Peace? Peace of body? Peace of mind? Peace with self? How many types of Peace are there? Many questions, still no answers. What I do know is that the hardwork of grief must speak of "The Experiences” it has brought to me when answering the question. Experience by nature allows me to walk into my own knowledge; wisdom of the ages released from my higher consciousness. Grief teaching and me listening to my inner voice. Me—learning, absorbing and becoming aware of which beliefs limit growth; opening my mind to different views. Me—taking action; seeing where I need to make changes in myself and making them happen. 

Peace with self rings loudest. I hear an answer “Find the Love in yourself”. My first thought is “here we go again!” I recognize that voice. I am walking my unique path towards greater understanding and spiritual growth. Unique means it's mine, discovered at my own pace. My ego has jumped aboard for the ride, a passenger carrying a bag filled with expectations and pre-conceived notions.  I can hear the self-speak; negative, defeating, deafening, a false sense of knowing  . . . Who do you think you are? Your thoughts aren’t deep, but mine are. Your behavior annoys me, thinking you can see things, understand life without my shouting directions. You want to walk the talk thinking that will bring in life changes? You want to learn? I know all we need is the talk. You think you can learn from someone other than me? Hmmph, do you even know what your Higher Consciousness sounds like?  I raise an internal hand, a signal to stop the negative speak, the self-criticism. Guided to the switch, I turn on the light. Ego gets booted from the ride.

I hear the answer again “Find the Love in yourself”. The words strike me . . . like a pop, a bolt of lightening, the nudge that spirit gives when “this one’s for you” is the message conveyed. Simple words. Words ego has interpreted as wise, holding it's own face to the mirror of wisdom. They are just well-constructed sounds to the ego bearing the tone of wisdom. Words regurgitated with no back up. Words—my champions, my exasperations, my irritations. Words—worn out, old, unoriginal. Strung together in platitudes and clichés, missing the meat. But are they really? 

Freed momentarily from the noise of ego, I am able to take in the depth and complexity in such simple words. So, is this how Spirit shines through grief? Be silent, wait for the message, followed by the EXPERIENCE. I will recognize it WHEN it comes. It comes, and it comes again and I feel my annoyance soften. I thank Spirit for this message. 

Gratitude. 

I ask for more help in understanding and conquering this sometimes insurmountable feat. The answers will not come in my time but in the time Spirit knows I am ready to accept. 

Patience. 

Loving myself comes after loving others on my heart list. 

Awareness. 

So where is the “how to” of finding the Love in myself, for self? I take a moment for a mini-reflection and ask myself "What is Spirit saying to me, what is Grief trying to teach me?" I rephrase: “See myself through the lens of Love and begin to overlook short-comings.” Short-comings are what I am seeing in myself, recognized as judgements when seen in others. Reflections in a mirror; what I see in others, I see in myself. A very needed lesson while in human form. 

The Experience. 

The part of my heart that carries love for others needs to carry that same love for me. 

Knowledge/Wisdom. 

It began with that raising of my hand to ego. STOP! Sympathy and empathy turned inwards into compassion; an action as small as a hand raised to ego—a change moving me forward in my connection with Spirit; to that spiritual place my soul is working to help me remember. Grief, teaching me without flashing lights, bells and whistles— simple words, nothing earth shattering but then again how could it be, I was in a place of Spirit!! 

Peace.

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