For those of you whom know me personally, you may remember that my son's birthday is next week; March 1. It'll be 29 years ago, on that date, that I had and lost my son and that I've been searching for him for 11 years now.
This time of year is always especially difficult for me and very often filled with sadness that emanates from a very deep part of my heart and soul.
So, I'm sitting on the floor working on preparing our coffee table for its new paint job and I ask Ari to put Pandora 80's radio on my ipod for me....the VERY first song that came on was "Separate Ways" by *my beloved* Journey. Now you're probably wondering 'what significance does THAT have?' Well, I'll tell you.
When I was in and out of the hospital awaiting the arrival of my beautiful baby boy *whom was due on Valentine's Day but decided to delay his arrival until March 1* Journey had JUST released its new album entitled "Frontiers" and, to those of you who don't know me and my affection for Journey, it would have meant the WORLD to me to have been able to get their new record. *Yes, they were still 'records' back then* On the morning of February 28th, I had some health problems that alarmed my care-taker enough to call the doctor, who had, in-turn, told him to bring me into the office immediately but I refused to leave the house; you see B-93 in Pittsburgh was giving away the new Journey album to callers every hour...I HAD to win. Well, my will power was strong, but not as strong as my caretakers and, within a few minutes, I was forced into the car and off to the doctor's office....and from there I was sent immediately to West Penn Hospital for problems that were life-threatening to both me and my unborn son....so the worst time of my life was about to worsen...the only thing that I had to look forward to was winning that damned record. The song "Separate Ways" was the first release from that album so, in the couple of months leading to my son's birth, it was played and played and played, like most big name new releases, so I heard it multiple times a day and I felt connected to that song, those lyrics and that band.
I remember very little after the birth of my son after the delivery up and until the few precious moments I was able to see him and hold him and explain to him just HOW MUCH he was loved and how sorry I was that he had to leave me but that I would love him for the rest of his life and that, one day, I would come and find him.....when I arrived back at my family's home after being released from the hospital I had to get some things out of my suitcase, which my caretaker had packed for me since I had no time to do so before getting admitted into the hospital, and when I opened it, Journey's new lp "Frontiers" was on the top of my things...a gift from my caretaker. He KNEW how I connected to that music because he had kept me safe, fed, clothed and housed when nobody else would and watched me for months...the connection to that particular album always has the power to transport me back in time to March 1, 1983...the day that my heart was broken and part of it was taken away forever. And as I sit here and type these words on this blog I can FEEL the pain, the sadness and the panic that was present on that day back in 1983 and it seems as real to me now as it was to me back then. Time travel, my friends, is very much real.
So, I send gratitude out to the Universe for allowing me to continue my 'journey' here in this life when it looked like neither of us were going to survive and I thank my Uncle Larry for taking SUCH wonderful care of the little lost girl who was so sad that he wasn't even sure she would 'make it' through all that was ahead of her and for being so thoughtful as to give me one gift that would, forever, allow me the ability to travel through space and time back to a place that's extremely painful but also SO FULL OF LOVE.
To my son: whoever you are, where ever you may be, there has not been one day in the last 29 years that I have not thought of you. Every birthday that you've had, every holiday, every one of your half-sister's birthdays, every big occasion and life-changing events, even the tiny ones, you are 'here' with me...in my heart, where you've always been and always will be. You are not only 'of me' but also carry a piece of my heart with you. I'm pretty sure I know who you are...cause you look SO much like me and your father and we both pray that, one day, you'll allow us in to share with you all the love that we've always felt for you but weren't allowed to give to you ourselves.
So, whenever someone tells you that there's 'no such thing' as time travel you can tell them that you have irrefutable, first-hand knowledge that there IS such a thing. And every single time I hear that song I'm back at my Uncle Larry's house, hanging on to that phone trying to get through to that radio station, with tears streaming down my face and one hand on my belly - touching my son- fighting the impending emergency trip to the doctor because I KNOW what's going to happen once he enters this world...I'm going to lose him and I don't EVER want that to happen. Time travel IS real. I am living proof.
I love you, my amazing, beautiful boy...and hope that this year is the best one for you yet.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Crying in my sleep....
Did you ever have a dream about something sad and wake up to realize that you're crying in your sleep? It happened to me last night and, I've got to tell you, I'm not such a big fan.
The dream was very odd and went like this:
I had made a custom piece of furniture for my dad; a book case. Not just ANY book case but a beautiful case with a curved top and embellishments at the crown. It was a beauty. I was bringing it to my dad, who was supposedly at my childhood home but about 3 miles from the house my car broke down. So here I stand, on the side of the road, with this HUGE piece of furniture, trying to catch a ride...car after car passes me and no one stops. I begin to walk, carrying this huge book case on my back and suddenly, a man pulls up on his motorcycle. He says his name is "Jacob" and that he's going to give me a ride to my parent's house. Elated, I hop on the back of the bike and somehow share space with this HUGE book case and we're off! We arrive at my parent's house which appears to look as it did the last time I saw it, run down and unkempt. I run up to the front door, SO excited to show my daddy what I had made for him and when I throw open the door I'm not in THEIR house, I'm in MINE. The house appears identical to my house except for just a few pieces of missing furniture, and when I run in calling my dad's name, I see my mom standing in my front, screened in porch; she's wearing a nightgown, a robe and her slippers. Her hair is combed and she's wearing her glasses....JUST as she always did. At the very moment we lock eyes I realize, in shock, that I had forgotten that my dad had died. He wasn't there anymore and I began to sob. Hugging my mother I'm sobbing uncontrollably and telling her that I don't want him to be dead...that I can't believe that I had forgotten that he had died.
That's when I woke up...and lying there, in the dark, I was sobbing. In my sleep.
So I lay there for a little while and calmed myself down. Then I tried to figure out what exactly the message was....and I just don't know. Now, recently there have been quite a few conversations, if you will, about my childhood and some of the more traumatic events therein which could possibly BE the reason for this dream. Was it? I distinctly remember the feeling within the realization that my dad was gone and my mom was standing there holding me in trying to comfort me *which is something my mother NEVER did* And, just so you know, my dad passed away in October of 2000, and my mom passed in December of 2007. My mom appeared to be in my home, as it is today - not as it was when she died.
So several hours pass and when my husband and I wake up, I tell him about this strange dream...and the tears roll again. What IS that, exactly? What is my subconscious/the Universe trying to TELL me? I'm trying to listen but I can't hear either of them. I just pray for a peaceful nights' sleep tonight with NO more dreams like this one.
The dream was very odd and went like this:
I had made a custom piece of furniture for my dad; a book case. Not just ANY book case but a beautiful case with a curved top and embellishments at the crown. It was a beauty. I was bringing it to my dad, who was supposedly at my childhood home but about 3 miles from the house my car broke down. So here I stand, on the side of the road, with this HUGE piece of furniture, trying to catch a ride...car after car passes me and no one stops. I begin to walk, carrying this huge book case on my back and suddenly, a man pulls up on his motorcycle. He says his name is "Jacob" and that he's going to give me a ride to my parent's house. Elated, I hop on the back of the bike and somehow share space with this HUGE book case and we're off! We arrive at my parent's house which appears to look as it did the last time I saw it, run down and unkempt. I run up to the front door, SO excited to show my daddy what I had made for him and when I throw open the door I'm not in THEIR house, I'm in MINE. The house appears identical to my house except for just a few pieces of missing furniture, and when I run in calling my dad's name, I see my mom standing in my front, screened in porch; she's wearing a nightgown, a robe and her slippers. Her hair is combed and she's wearing her glasses....JUST as she always did. At the very moment we lock eyes I realize, in shock, that I had forgotten that my dad had died. He wasn't there anymore and I began to sob. Hugging my mother I'm sobbing uncontrollably and telling her that I don't want him to be dead...that I can't believe that I had forgotten that he had died.
That's when I woke up...and lying there, in the dark, I was sobbing. In my sleep.
So I lay there for a little while and calmed myself down. Then I tried to figure out what exactly the message was....and I just don't know. Now, recently there have been quite a few conversations, if you will, about my childhood and some of the more traumatic events therein which could possibly BE the reason for this dream. Was it? I distinctly remember the feeling within the realization that my dad was gone and my mom was standing there holding me in trying to comfort me *which is something my mother NEVER did* And, just so you know, my dad passed away in October of 2000, and my mom passed in December of 2007. My mom appeared to be in my home, as it is today - not as it was when she died.
So several hours pass and when my husband and I wake up, I tell him about this strange dream...and the tears roll again. What IS that, exactly? What is my subconscious/the Universe trying to TELL me? I'm trying to listen but I can't hear either of them. I just pray for a peaceful nights' sleep tonight with NO more dreams like this one.
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