Anybody There?

   A strange thing happened to Sara a couple of months ago. She is a childhood friend of Drew's. They rode the school bus together everyday, they shared music and as they got older they would spend hours on the phone together sorting out their own separate dramas and sometimes, other peoples. They were soul buddies in every sense.
   On this particular day, she had spent nearly all day at my house helping me with the graphics for the book, Show Me Heaven, Drew. It's safe to say that my computer dislikes me. It throws roadblocks up every time I say, Okay  - we're going to do something new today. I think it's lazy but whatever, it is an anomaly to me. Anything outside of emails and now facebook and blogs,  is like learning a crazy Greek or Chinese puzzle. So Sara came to my aid and shifted and changed, deleted and added and made me a beautiful book to present to the publishers.
   We felt Drew with us all day long. Hovering over the computer, filling the silences with his presense and making us remember stories about him that made us laugh.
   Sara left the house at about five. At about six that evening, she texted me from her cell phone. 
   "OMG! My phone rang on the way home and when I picked it up it was a call from Drew's old number. No name. Was it him?"
   You know it was. Drew's phone was disconnected two and a half years ago and lies dormant in a drawer in his bedroom. No one but him could make that call.
   Hellooooo??
   Later!

The Light Plays Tricks

   Back from the West. I had to the leave the bay, the roses with blooms as big as saucers, hedges filled with white and yellow wild iris and roses and purple blooms I didn't recognize. And my growing, full-blooming family so full of life.      
   Here's to Life!
   Even the mist has its own sort of life. It wafts and rolls in from the sea in all the shades of greys and whites. It blankets Angel Island and the shores of Tiburon where I am. It rolls up the hill with the stealth of a thief, covering the grass, invading the tree tops and speckling moisture as it moves on up the hillside.
   Sitting on the verandah, watching the bay and its bridges, the ships and the sail boats, I thought of all the people who live there, all the aqua life, all the living breathing creatures that make this beautiful place their home.
 The Bay Bridge was shrouded in fog that day with only its peaks peeking through the cloud.    The sounds of ships horns rumbled through the mist, thier bow waves white and disappearing into the grey-white, wet air.
  Ships like phantoms, like ghosts of the present. Alive. 
  And as I sank into my world of spectres and yesterdays, Tuck let out a shriek, hurtled around the side of the house brandishing a bat three sizes too big for him. He's three and a half. A sturdy, boisterous rambunctious toddler with flaming red hair. My grandson. Alive and well. In his own world of baby thoughts and wonders. I look at his face sometimes and wonder what's churning behind those bright eyes. He's burst into this brand new world and he has things to do. I wonder what they are. What has he come here to do?  Will he change the world? Will he fight for what he believes in? Will he make people laugh, and will he fall in love one day...
So much to do. So much life ahead of him, so many days and nights to fill.
   But right now he's stopped in his tracks, his bat is forgotten as he squats beside a rock bed. He's watching a beetle.    
   Here's to Life, my friends.

I Am Bound for Calif-for- Ny - Ay!

   I'm goin' to California in the mornin'. Remember that old song?  Who sang it? Mama Cass or Peter, Paul and Mary? Or was it The Drifters...  I don't remember.
   Anyway, I'm off to San Francisco for a few days to seem my oldest son Michael and his family. I just got back from Richmond where I spent the Mother's Day weekend with Karen and her family - which is why you haven't seen me here for a few days.
   I am so lucky to have Karen and Randy, Michael and Mary Katherine and Brock, Courtney, Becca, James, Caroline and Tucker. And ....drum roll ..... Miss Kitty.
   No one can fill the place that is Drew's - and nor should they. They are all who they are - beautiful people who I love. Everyone of them unique in his or her own way. And everyone of us miss Drew at these gatherings - each in our own way. Son, brother, uncle. He's never far away.
   Sara and JD called me on Mother's Day - Drew's friends. How sweet is that :)
   So, California Here I come!
   See you when I get back.

Chosen to Be Somebody's Mother

That's an awesome thought. I was chosen to be somebody's mother... or father for that matter, but because it's Mother's Day tomorow, let's talk Moms.
Choosing to be born, choosing which family you want to be born into isn't just my idea. A lot of in-depth research has been done on the psychology front by people whose life purpose is to figure out the rest of us. (Good luck with that.) I'm talking about the psychologists among us. One in particular comes to mind. Helen Wambach, a psychologist who, working with clients under deep hypnosis, was able to explore the "before life" experiences of 750 people. Her research shows that the majority of her subjects both chose to be born and chose their fellow travelers in this life. Some were reluctant to come back, many had help from entities they called "guides" or strong and loving figures who reassured them. Many knew this wasn't going to be easy but felt the need to be here to fulfill some purpose or complete another.
I know from my own experience, that three of my grandchildren 'appeared' in my dreams before they were born - presumably letting us know they were coming into our family. Becca told me that my father who the children called "Papa" and who died years before she was born, encouraged her to choose Karen as her mother. I understand that fully. To be Karen's child, Becca would be given unconditional love and a lot of freedom to live her life her way. Karen is in no way dogmatic or bossy. She's warm, supportive and nurturing. Everything an Aries girl needs! And here's the kicker. I believe that it will be Becca who eventually, 'gives back' with all her innate strength and support, when Karen needs that strength and support in her own life. Give and take.
All of us were chosen too. Interesting perception. And interesting to look into your own lives to see how these choices are working in your life.
I am so honored to have been chosen by these spirits to help them through this life. And so lucky to have been taught by them, supported by them and loved by them.
Have a wonderful Mother's Day. And never forget who you are. A great spirit who has been chosen to be someone's mom.
Have Fun!

Why Are We Here?

     Hmmm. I wonder about that. Here's what I know. Because I've been able to meet new babies coming into this world before they get here, I know there's a plan of some sort.
   My own grand daughter at about the age of five chatted to me at length one afternoon about being able to choose her parents. She had a choice to make before she incarnated, she said, and that was whether to come into this family  - or that family.          
     I've heard that this earth place we live in is actually a place of learning. An earth school if you will. And that we when we decide to come here we do so in order to learn specific lessons. I wonder if they're new lessons or lessons whose test we failed the last time around so we have to repeat the course over and over until we get it... I don't know. 
   What I think is this. Once we choose or realize which lessons we have to learn, or which human traits or attributes we have to perfect - or get rid of - it becomes necessary to choose the right people to come in with. People who will either help or challenge us to do better. We may even choose to be here with a person who'll make it almost impossible for us to get it right. These are the hardest teachers.
     How do I believe in a God who snatches someone I love away from me? What is the lesson I'm supposed to learn here? I still don't know for sure. Could I have prevented this tragedy? Am I to blame in some way? Or am I supposed to learn that everyone has his or her own blueprint to follow and I am not the Master of the Universe here to direct everyone ... Perhaps something like this challenges our prejudices, makes us love a little stronger, listen a little harder or to show compassion instead of impatience with others who are suffering. And especialIy with ourselves.
   What about a husband or wife who deserts a marriage? The word "hate" takes on a whole new meaning to the one who's left behind. Especially if there is someone else involved. Am I supposed to go inward and see how I could have stopped this from happening? Or am I supposed to learn something about NOT blaming myself because someone else took another fork in the path we were both following for a while. And realize I'm not perfect and neither is anyone else. That hate is destructive - no matter how good it feels ...
   So maybe we're here simply to learn to love ourselves and others just a little bit more than we did before.
Think so? That "love" word carries a ton of other words, doesn't it... compassion, tolerance and patience just to name a few.
   Enough to give me a headache just thinking about it.
Anyway, cheers! And Good Luck!