In the Glow of Moonlight

In the Glow of Moonlight

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You were like a sun in my sky;
big and bright and brilliant
as I orbited around you.

Your radiant love enveloped me
like a blanket of warm sunshine
on an otherwise cloudy day.

We lived and laughed and loved
as that clichéd saying goes;
when the world still made sense. 

But then it all suddenly disappeared;
like a sun sucked into a black hole,
extinguishing your brilliant light.

It feels cold here in the darkness;
a chill so pervasive, it rattles my bones
and burrows deep in my soul.

Noisy, jumbled thoughts and echoes
of screams and sirens and panic;
continually pleading, “What if…?”

I wouldn’t call this ‘living’ any more;
merely existing while waiting to die
for years after your death.

Yet there are too many signs from you
I can no longer ignore or write off
as merely coincidence.

It’s as if each one whispers in my ear,
“I’m here, Mama, I’ll always be with you;
just look for the moon instead.”

So each night I search for your light,
some days your moonlight fills the sky;
sometimes there’s only a sliver. 

No matter the moon’s phase, I know
it’s illuminated by your brilliant light
that once filled my sky.

I’ll always long for the sunlight I lost,
but I’m learning to live, laugh, and love
in the glow of moonlight. 

Signs From Bill

Signs From Bill

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I lost my ex-husband, Bill, (father to my 3 children) last July 2013. The grief struck me hard. He fought the disease of addiction. The addiction won the battle. He was just so tired and took his life. I too have seen signs via several ladybugs and one dragon fly. I believe wholeheartedly it was him trying to comfort me and let me know he was ok. I found aliveinmemory.org via a search on ladybugs and afterlife. I believe more than ever in life after death now.

 

 

 

 

Jeremy’s Rock

Jeremy’s Rock

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Jeremy's RockThere is a time in everyone’s life when everything seems to come together like the pieces of a puzzle. We have to share the gift of our faith and of God’s love, and demonstrate how God even shows it  physically to us. In my case, it is a rock – a simple rock picked up off the ground and handed to me by my child. Big Deal? How many times do our kids give us rocks, leaves, bugs?? How many times have you missed the message God sent to you through a child? I know I have several times, I wasn’t always watching, or listening close enough.

Jeremy had been sick off and on that winter (everyone was sick with colds or flu). It was Wednesday, and we were walking down to John’s shop to get into the car. I took Jeremy to school each morning to St. Joe, then would drive to the Cleaner’s where I worked (they were only about 3 blocks apart at the most). This was just an ordinary day, like every other day, as far as I was concerned. Little did I know ..this would be our last day like this.

I remember Jeremy bent down and picked up a rock and handed it to me. I asked, “What’s this for ?”

One of us said “Something to hold on to”. Being a typical parent on a typical day, I put it on the seat between us, and forgot about it.

Jeremy stayed home from school the next day. He was not feeling well so I let him stay home. I did not leave until 8:30 and would be home at 11:00 for lunch. Pooh and Shawn would be in and out during the day. And John would be home by 3:45. No problems, just a typical day  in the lives of a typical family. That was Thursday, remember.

Jeremy had a restless night, I got up and sat with him during the night. At one point, he said, “Mommy, as tired as I am, you’ve got to be more tired.” I said, “Baby, when you go to sleep and get some rest, I’ll go to bed…” I covered  him with a quilt. We held hands and I said, “I love you, baby,” and he said, “I love you too, Mommy.”

I know I dozed a little later. I woke up when my chin hit my chest. I looked at Jeremy who looked like he he was sleeping peacefully and I went to bed. I looked at the alarm clock. It was 2:30. I get up in 3 hours to start my day for work. I went to sleep.

The next thing I remember was John’s voice, moaning and calling my name. I went into Jeremy’s bedroom. Our son had died in his sleep. My baby was gone from his body.

I will not go into all of details from the next few days. That is not the purpose for me to write this down today. I feel like I should move onto the next part, ok? Please bear with me?

Jeremy’s funeral was on Monday. It was painful, sad, and beautiful. There was so much love around us, yet each of us felt alone in our own thoughts and emotions. Grief does that to you.

We hugged a lot, cried buckets of tears, and moved deliberately step by step. I was afraid to stop, for fear I could not begin again if I lost momentum.

Pooh and I went to do some errands on Tuesday. This was the first time I had driven my car since Thursday. I put my hand down to fasten the seat belt, and my hand touched “The Rock”. The words “something to hold onto” held a different meaning this day. I carry that rock with me now always.

Sometimes it is in my pocket, sometimes it is in my purse, but it is always with me somewhere. John picked upon the rock, but never knew the story in the beginning. He went up on our roof to get one of the rocks that Jeremy used to knock up there with a tennis racket… John still carries his rock in his pocket every day.

A plain ordinary rock…like the ones we see every day…but we ignore. We just cannot always see the  meaning in all the little signs that we are given every day. We get too busy in living our crazy lives, and we miss the things that God has given to us. “His Love is the Solid Rock” that we should “Hold On To”…and never set it down.

Now I am asking each of you to pick up a rock, keep it for yourself, or give it away to some one who needs to be encouraged. Tell them it is a gift from God, through the heart of a child. Then pass on Jeremy’s story and what he told me with his rock. We never know if it might be our last chance to make a difference in their lives — or in our own life.

Hold onto the Rock! Peace be with you always, Debbie.

Written Sept 27, 2006

Submitted to Alive in Memory by Deb Jones in loving memory of her son, Jeremy.

Overcoming the Fear of Death

Overcoming the Fear of Death

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For most of my life, I feared death.

As a child, I would end up in a state of panic if I thought about what happens when we die. So, I would go to great lengths to distract myself from thinking about it. I’ve had many nightmares throughout my life where I face certain death.

The most common, recurring nightmare was being trapped in a car that was plummeting off a cliff toward the ocean below. I would wake up seconds before the car impacted the water with my heart pounding.

Religion has never been a part of my life, and never will. I don’t believe the idea of heaven and hell from any religious perspective.

In my mind, there were only two plausible ideas of what happens to us after death. The first was the idea of reincarnation. The second was that we just die and our body becomes part of the earth.

Neither one sounded comforting or appealing to my childhood logic. If I was reincarnated, I would be an entirely different person and have no memories of this current lifetime. If death equaled nothingness, it amounts to the same thing. The idea that my life, my identity, and my memories would all be “erased” turned death into the ultimate fear for me. So I taught myself to not think about my own death whenever possible.

In 2009, I experienced something far worse than my ultimate fear. Not my own impending death, but the death of someone whose life was more important than my own: my child.

In the early days and months after my daughter’s death, I once again grappled with what death meant. I was forced to face the dreaded question of what happens to us after we die. After reading many books and talking with others, I found no real answers or concrete evidence. The absolute reassurance I was looking for was unattainable. All I knew was that I desperately wanted her to still be with me.

In some moments, I actually wanted to die. Because if there was even the slightest chance of some sort of afterlife, it would mean I could be with her again. Not to mention, it seemed the only form of escape from the oppressive pain I felt. Of course, I knew the pain of my own death would cause my family even more anguish. So I never came close to doing anything to cause my own death.

During my overwhelming grief, I began to notice what seemed like signs from my daughter.

They started off as fascinating coincidences. But the more I noticed them, the more they felt like someone was trying to tell me something. Some signs involved dragonflies or ladybugs. But mostly I started seeing repeating numbers or number patterns each day, multiple times a day. None of this had ever happened before her death.

I only told a few select people about these apparent signs. Some brushed it off as my mind wanting to assign meaning to things that had none. But others wholeheartedly accepted the idea that they were indeed signs from my daughter. Yet, as hopeful as I was that these signs were from my daughter, I was still skeptical on some level.

After years of receiving continual signs, I am convinced that they are my daughter’s way of reassuring me that she is always with me.

I now believe our consciousness continues to exist after our death. I don’t know how or “where.” But I am no longer afraid of death.

Once my fear of death was alleviated, an interesting thing happened. I’ve since had several dreams of plummeting in a car towards the ocean as I did growing up. But they had changed. I’m still falling towards the water in fear, but I no longer woke up in a panic just before hitting the water.

Instead, I dreamt I went into the water. And instead of struggling for breath, I surrendered to the situation and relaxed. In doing so, I didn’t feel pain or panic. Instead, I felt completely at peace.

I think that must be what death is like: a state of complete and absolute peace.

Dragonflies, Ladybugs, and Signs From My Daughter

Dragonflies, Ladybugs, and Signs From My Daughter

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As a toddler, my daughter adored animals. We had three cats of our own, but she loved all animals. With the exception of spiders and wild animals, Margareta always took the opportunity to hold or touch any animal she could. She loved going to petting zoos with goats and sheep, even when they were aggressively trying to get food. And whenever we saw ladybugs, she insisted on having them crawl on her. Margareta loved ladybugs so dearly, we included a picture of one on her grave marker.

Soon after her death, signs took the form of animal sightings.

A few weeks after her death at the age of four, I took her older brother to his soccer game in a neighboring town. Emotional but still very numb, I sat down on the sidelines on one end of the field away from the other parents. While the teams warmed up, I noticed a swarm of dragonflies in the air about 10 to 15 feet in front of me.

It’s important to note that I’ve always been fascinated by dragonflies, though rarely seen them in person. Until that point in my life, I’d seen less than a dozen in person and usually at a water source. As I sat transfixed by the sheer number of dragonflies so close to me, I immediately thought of my daughter and how thrilled she would have been to see them. The dragonflies stayed over the field for almost the entire game.

A few days later, I was in my home and was startled by a “knock” on the picture window next to me. I turned to see a large dragonfly had hit the glass as it was flying straight towards me. After gathering its bearings, it landed on the bottom of an outdoor light fixture to rest.

The feeling suddenly came over me that this dragonfly was my daughter “visiting” me. 

I slowly walked over and opened the door. I whispered how much I loved her and just stared. After a few minutes, I closed the door and walked away. That dragonfly stayed there for over an hour before it finally flew away.

That event was the beginning of many, many dragonfly sightings. I see both live and artistic representations of them since the death of my daughter. I know now that many people experience dragonfly sightings after the death of a loved one. Whether they are messengers from the afterlife or just a symbol of death and rebirth, the sightings are special to many people.

Almost every sighting has happened when I’ve been intensely struggling with grief or when my thoughts are focused exclusively on her.

I’ve also had similar experiences with ladybugs. Sometimes they land on or close to me when I’m intently thinking of her. Other times I will feel the need to glance somewhere specific, only to find one like a needle in a haystack in its surroundings.

For example, while on a walk with my son, he asked me out of the blue what I would do if Margareta suddenly appeared in front of us. After discussing it, I turned my head toward our neighbor’s house for no apparent reason. My gaze zeroed in on a lone ladybug upon a leaf on a tree. Without knowing where to look, it would have been easily missed.

Another time, my sister-in-law was visiting and we had been talking about my signs from Margareta. On our way to the car I felt the urge to open my mailbox even though I knew there was no mail. There, sitting on the cold metal in the dark was a ladybug under the lid.

Are these really signs from my daughter?

Could these events be my daughter channeling her energy from some other dimension to control these bugs or nudge me to look their way? Yes. Could skeptics be right and these sightings are nothing more than pure coincidence? Yes. Regardless of what anyone thinks, they mean something very special to me.

Every time I have one of these experiences, it is as if my daughter has caressed my cheeks in her little hands, kissed me on the lips, and then given me a big bear hug. They are the equivalent of hearing her sweet voice say, “I love you mama, and I’m right here with you no matter what.” I treasure these “signs” and look forward to every single one of them.