Angels are real. The other side is alive. Heaven is real.
In 2017 one night I was having a night terror. This was almost daily. I woke got a drink and went back to bed.
I’m pretty sure once I fell back asleep the nightmare started again. I live alone so there is no one there to help me wake myself up from nightmares as they paralyses me. Suddenly in my right ear I heard the loud voice of a toddler almost a baby. It said with great confidence “Help!”
I woke up and sat up quickly thinking it was my 3 year old Grandson because he slept over often. Of course it was not him and he was not there. The word help did not sound like a child needing help. If words could let you hear the sound my voice now trying to describe it, it was more like this, “hElP!” with an almost funny tone to it. I sat there for a long time and realize whatever it was, it was there to wake me up. I have psychic gifts but I never hear voices nor do I see spirits.
Later that day and the days since I remembered that night and realized that baby angel was not asking for help, it was saying “I’m here to help.” Time passed. I so wanted that angel to talk to me again but it did not.
Jump to the fall of 2018. I’m in a new place. I was late at night and I had been meditating for over an hour. The house was completely silent. I feel waves and energy in my body when I’m in deep meditation. Suddenly from the right side of the bed, came that baby voice. This time it said “DOT!” My trance was broken and I sat there in awe. It was that same voice that had said help. I waited for another word, but I started to feel the presence of other helping spirits starting to make noises. I decided that was enough and got up to get a drink of water.
My curtains in my bed room were slightly parted in middle. I sometimes find myself sleeping at the end of my bed because my fan is there and I like the white noise and the air on my face. I woke up to move to end of bed when suddenly there was this very bright white light. It was the Moon. It was exactly in the parts of the curtains and I was mesmerized by it’s light. While I admired it, in my mind I thought of the word Dot. That baby angel must have told me to look out for the dot in the sky later. It felt true and glorious. I felt protected because so often I live in fear.
A week later at was at my son’s home with him and my 4yr old Grandson Lincoln. Mommy was at work. I had offered to come over and help clean house because I love taking care of my son and his family.
To go off topic for a moment I have to tell this story. One day, when my Grandson was 3 we were at my house. I asked “one day you will be a Daddy. What do you think you will name your baby?” He was silent for awhile looking out the patio door. He said “Concrete Patio.” What? LOL “What did you say?” “Concrete patio is what I will call the baby.” I’d never laughed so hard in my life. It’s become a long running family joke.
Before I came to clean, (maybe a month or two) my son had called me and wanted to talk about them having another child. They were young with the first one. He was not sure. I tried to be supportive and just listen. I did agree that if Lincoln was way older than a younger sibling it might not be so fun for him. So we left it at that.
When I was at the house cleaning, Lincoln, who was 4 now, and I were talking about baby sisters and brothers. The younger generation tends now to keep things to themselves for awhile. So I said something about concrete patio. Lincoln replied “we can just name the baby in Mommy’s belly concrete patio.” I didn’t hear it. I don’t know why it did not register what he was saying. Maybe the joy I feel with him his Daddy alone, makes my mind think too fast because I’m happy to be there.
Now as I said, my son and my daughter in law are very private. I was cleaning off the desk when I found a letter from an OB/GYN that said; “Congratulations on your pregnancy.” I froze. Opps. Was I not suppose to know about this and my Grandson had told me an hour before but I didn’t register.
“Maxi?” I said…holding up the letter, “was I not suppose to see this?” He came over and said “opps.” 😀 I was overjoyed and he was so happy and it was such an amazing moment to know my love will be doubled with another grandchild. I said to him “Lincoln spilled the beans an hour ago but I didn’t believe it.” From the mouths of babes. Kids always tell the truth.
Few weeks later she had her first ultrasound. When I saw it, it was just a dot on the film.
A DOT!
When I get premonition or intuition about something that has happened, it usually takes a day or maybe a week to understand the true meaning of the impression.
There was other explanation than this baby voice I had heard twice was the soul or angel of my future Grandchild. When it said “Help.” What it was saying is “I’m coming to help.” This soul from the other side was coming into my life at just the right time to help me from losing my mind. It talked to me. Once my daughter in law was pregnant I never heard baby angel’s voice again. Probably because she was busy growing in her Mommy’s belly. When we found out it was going to be a little girl. My nickname for her before I knew her name became “Little Dot.”
On June 25 Sophie was born. Another gift from God. A little soul who I can’t wait to tell her about how she was my angel before she got here. My little dot.
Let’s face it. It happens to every woman. I kids grow up. They become independent to the point that you wonder if it were old days and there was not google they would probably call you more. I was told in a dream in Seattle in 2012 that I was going to have another child. I was 49. That empty nest, barren inside feeling that your bloom is gone, does not equal pregnancy unless it was from above? 😀
At a very difficult time in my life I got a surprise. A Grandson. And a new Daughter in Law and the love for my son has kept me grounded. But then, you have a Grandchild and you feel guilty that you might love it so so much,, that it was more than the child that gave you that Grandchild.
It was like being able to be a Mom again, because some of my son’s early childhood, I had sever mental illness. So there times when emotional I was there. But that goes away because you realize 1st parenting is just learning.
The 4 Laws Of Being A Parent
Don’t be your child’s first bully. Use calm tones. Never ever ever ever hit your child. I never touched mine and my Grandson who I’ve been with for 5 years of stay-overs, I talked and listen. I don’t know why, maybe it’s my energy, but he has never kicked off with a meltdown or tantrum. My son was the same why. So it must genetic.
Listen to your child. If they are freaking out on the floor go to them and ask them what they are feeling and what they from you. Teach consequences and pick your battles. I see Mothers in stores yelling at every stupid thing their kid does and it confounds me. Be nice. Make it fun.. Use your imagination. Direct their attention to something else. You’ve supernanny. Every problem is always the adults. I’m not bragging about how easy my kids have been, I’m learning that I am good at stuff. Lots of it. One thing I would put on a resume is “Dam Good Gran”
Keep the off devices. Have limited scheduled time for you as well. I don’t know who YOU are as I type this because I’m talking to someone that is not there. Well, they are there, they just have other engagements.
Take care of your own state of mind. Meaning learn to control stress and irrational yelling at your kids, learn to calm your own mind. Leave the room if you feel overwhelmed or before you spank your child. It’s also ok to let you kids you how you are feeling. If you end up crying in front of your kids. the first time they see that they will think again. Make time everyday if only 15 minutes where you lay down and breath. Just breath. Then once you know about meditation you can teach kids at a young age about mindfulness. My Grandson loves swimming and when he was 3, while sitting in the swing, he closed his eyes like he was blissed out. I watched and said you look like you feel good. I told him there is a word that people when they close eyes and listen to their breath it’s OM. So he still does that to this day. More mindfullness is helpful for children in stress. And Mommy’s and Daddy’s too.
With all my struggles God,, has given me exactly what I needed at the time I needed it. My relationship with my Grandson is equal. I treat him as a funny loving person I know. He’s not a kid. He is a young human and boy do those babies glow like bioluminescent wonderfulness. Ecstatic.
Why don’t our souls have credit reports? Poor people might do better for themselves in this world.
However, in this real world where a devil could actually become President, I’m 53, on disability and not worth much apparently. All the years I worked and paid taxes and made decent money to drive a car that actually drives and even have a mortgage not to mention how easy it was to lease a classic historic apartment in the city.
I am not the woman anymore. That was 22 years ago. I don’t look like her, I have lost my mind since then and the beep BEEP BEEPING of the torturous construction equipment outside the window reminds her of scene from Clockwork Orange when they try to torture the main character with sound to get him to kill himself.
And my Mother sneaks into my life and screams at me “you always makes bad choices” as if you have not Mother Dearest. What about all the men you fracked when I was a kid and I had to listen to it and I was only in first grade.
And what about the ghost that kisses me everyday? No one ever said Jesus was a flirt. Apparently he likes me. But you can’t share a lease with a ghost or made love to them in the traditional way let alone expect them to bring you a cup of tea for breakfast.
And the lovely old apt I view yesterday, the one overlooking The Children’s Museum, is begging me to rent it. The planetarium is just a few hundred feet away, reminding me of when I was fabulous and could align a laser projector and get paid for it and play Dark Side of the Moon as loud as I want and get marriage proposals afterwards it’s that woman, it’s only the 35 year old woman wanting to use this apt as a time machine back to the day when I could hang out with people of all ages and be cool and when finding a date was so easy, I only had to open my mouth, but hanging in in quiet desperation in an apt that in the end will be so empty and quite because I have only one friend who won’t climb stairs and a son who is busy and no social group. My Mother and Sister will never visit me there as it’s in the “black” part of town and I don’t care if they come anyway. So back in the day that apt would be perfect for entertaining. More space than I have furniture since I lost everything in Seattle. But, it did have a fireplace.
When you’re lonely, a fireplace can kinda be like a date. It’s warm and nice to look at.
But when I left my sister called to scream at me for getting a checking account with the credit union she works for because I’m a financial mess and she does not want my misery on her and she makes up things I have never done with the woman who cooked me in the womb.
I’ve never felt so alone.
So financially powerless.
So grateful that a 2 year old little boy and his Father thinks I’m swell. Because if it were not for that baby screaming Nana Nana! when he sees me, I think I would shrink like a gardenia in the desert.
So as I sit in the same clothes, I think, that apt had a pretty bad bath tub, so bad one wouldn’t want to get in, windows that were lovely but painted shut and an old 1910 elevator that didn’t go. Three flights up, who would move me in? Extra charge for parking off Meridian Street. The possibility that I will pay him $35 to tell me my credit does not qualify me, but it never shows the good I do on those reports does it? My soul has over 1,600 other soul friends from all the volunteering and good I’ve done and trees I’ve planted. But all people see if a woman who has medical debt from something that was not her fault, and old corrupt cell phone charges (TMOBLE) and in end I always tell them in advance on paper I’m a mess because I’m bi polar and if you really knew who I was I would pay you to tell me.
So I probably won’t apply for the fireplace because in the end, whats the point of walking around in a drafty European type needs a bit of polish apt to be alone in front a fireplace next door to a place I once worked where I can’t get an interview now.
I’ll just go to some dumpy over priced low square footage strip mall kinda apt complex and pay too much and live too little because well, I always make bad decisions as Mom says.
….although, this album would sound great on wooden floors again.
So many people honor their parents. So many people are blessed with supportive Mother’s who are always there for their daughters. Sometimes I hate those people. Why? Because I’m afraid I’m turning into my Mother.
Let’s face it. There are many of us whose parents tried their best when you were young. My Mother was one of them. Having me at 20 was not a cake walk. Leaving my poor Father was in my best interest she said. But now she is 72 and her meanness has only aged like fine wine.
I pray to God that I don’t end up treating my grown son the way she treats me. I broke the cycle when he was young, but maybe this mediocre life of failure and illness and loneliness will just take it’s toll and 20 years from now, I will be the troll on my son’s facebook page. Maybe fucking facebook will burn to the ground because it’s done nothing but cause trouble with my Mother. I friend her because she has few friends. I friend her to share photos of my Grandson. Yet when I speak out about anything she disagrees with, be it politics or the things I like, she even starts arguments on Facebook in comments. She is my Mother? Do you know how embarrassing it is to my friends to see that negative and button pushing things she says to me in front of everyone.
My Mother lived with my Grandmother in the 90’s. My Gram was in her 70’s then and my Monster was in her 50’s. I didn’t see this happened, but I believed it happened. My Grandmother let my Mom live with her for awhile. My Mother was so verbally abusive to my Gram that my Gram had to call the police to remove my monster from her home.
My Gram….
(Me sharing some of my writing with my Gram before she passed in 2012)
She never said a mean thing about the things I wrote. She listened to my stories of search for love. My supernatural experiences and always said, “Honey. Bless your little heart.”
My Gram and I would often talk about how mean my Mother was. You’d think my Mom might have been abused by my Grandparents. Not at all. Maybe they were guilty of apathy, I just know Gram died in 2013 and Mom was living with her again. I was in Seattle. God only knows how she treated her until she died. She would abused me long distance. (The distance not being long enough which is the real reason I left Indiana, with the goal to get my son to leave the backwater Christian hypocritical state)
I still have these two.
God only knows what I’d be without you.
My son and my grandson. God don’t let me turn into her and lose them. I’m so lonely and so tired of not being loved by my first family my Mother and my sister, that if I do start to make him miserable, I will end my life sooner than God intends because the last thing I want to do is destroy my child like my Mother continues to destroy me.
There is nothing more redundantly sacred or joyous than the birth of a Grandchild. Especially if that child comes in a time of life when you least expected to be a Grandmother. And that at times until the baby arrives you search for a better word than Grandmother because your own Grandmother died two years ago a 89. If she had lived just one more bit of year, she would have seen another generation arrive in front of her. I would have been a Grandmother who had a Grandmother. It’s very nice people live longer there days.
Cars. He wants to know where his cars are?
These are the mornings when I remember it was much more enjoyable when you had a handsome man (A Grampy if you will) in the bed with you, sharing that early morning WAKE UP! Ce cera cera is the only way to be because that little face makes up for the lack of romantic love. A gift when I lack the other if I may.
It is also lovely to have a newborn to care for while I am still a very young 52 in the mind of course and still in this bio body suit I carry around. It does not always cooperate. I remember those dreamy early days when the baby was very tiny and would sleep in my arms. Oh my aching back. It’s when the thing that your parents did to you, try to tell you stuff about this future, having kids, watching your kids have them etc…and I know my brain is way better at it now but my body was better at it then. My Grandson is almost two. Bending down to lift him, bending down to bath, bending down to retrieve him from toddler bed it’s all a pain in the ass. There is no one to be angry with than Father Time. It’s ok. It’s a workout when I can’t get to the YMCA. That kid is the YMCA. It’s a heart racer loving them like one does.
Where are the diapers?
There is so much joy when they say Grandchildren are perfect kind of children because you get to send them home. I get that now. I think it’s the shear heartbreak you feel when they go home with Dad but later when your enjoy a nice joint and a glass of vino, life is really perfect. We remember the utter endless early mornings when all you can do is open one eye to change a diaper. And why are toddlers so dam happy in the morning?
I better get going on this essay he will only be sleeping for another bit and this coffee and this lovely green has reminded me how much I do enjoy the times when I’m alone. Yet I’m not really alone. When that child goes back to where he is going, I become a child again. A child who dreams of dreams I dreamed when I was almost 2. A boy. A boy I knew. He came into my life a few years back and when I’m alone he comes and says to my heart.
Oh my darling, lets make a story, sit down and tell me how you feel. Tell tales of the things I see. I watch you from afar, rock a bye your sweet baby Lincoln. And one day you will find your way if you keep loving and do what your hearts say. I brought the glad tidings to you, in a dream. So listen now what I say, I never left you. Be a girl. Be that little girl in your heart all the time. No matter how lonely you are, you are and will be mine.
What was I just talking about? How did I end up here? Sometimes I find myself in places that seem so queer. One minute I’m cleaning up toys and the next minute when I’m away from noise, I feel someone enter my aura. A presence that watches over me. That guides me this way and that. To write. To dream. To flow. The less resistance the better while your in a eddie they say. Well it’s about time to stay on schedule. That tiny child will be waking soon and I don’t want him to ever feel unheard or passed over or unimportant ….
Who let the doves in here?
Grade: C+ – Went off topic. Run on sentences. Didn’t make sense. Redundant.
Science Goes On - A Blind Date With God 
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