Blue Moon

My husband and I got up early and raced outside to try to see the Blue Moon Lunar Eclipse at the ‘optimal time’ here in Maine (6:45 am)–since it only occurs once every hundred years or so, we didn’t want to miss it.

And it was up there…behind the trees.

So we jumped in the car and headed to the ocean (because, let’s face it, everything is always best viewed from the perspective of the ocean) and you know, with a big, honkin’ cup of coffee.

My iPhone camera left something to be desired, but the moon did not.

It was amazing.

Afterward, the song 100 Years was playing over and over in my mind. This is a song that I associate with my paternal grandmother, Mary.  And then, just like that, I suddenly realized that she was with me.

Because of course, our loved ones who have crossed over are always with us.

Sometimes we just feel their presence more strongly than others.

Hello from Heaven

big-nana
Big Nana with her great-granddaughter Ariana in her kitchen in Nantasket

As I recently wrote, my son moved into his new apartment. Apartments, as we all know, usually need furniture. As a mother, I want to (over) help him with this. When I got my first apartment, my mother and my grandmother went to great lengths to make sure I had everything I might need or want, opening their cupboards, closets, drawers, and wallets to help me get things I didn’t even know I would need. I always knew that I would do the same for my own children one day.

The current need for my son’s apartment is for a kitchen table and chairs. I remembered my grandmother’s kitchen table has been stored at my brother’s house for years. I checked to make sure it was still there and usable. My brother determined (after some digging) that it was.
I started thinking of how my grandmother, Big Nana, spent most of her life helping her family. She has been dead since 2004, but she is still helping her family all these years after her death. Because now her kitchen table and chairs, at which we ate so many wonderful, lovingly prepared meals, will now serve my son and his girlfriend.

And here is the biggest gift of all: when my brother was looking for the chairs, he found a photo Nana, as well as some of my mother and father that I have never seen before.

It feels like they are all saying ‘Hello’ to us from heaven tonight, and letting us know that they are still watching over us and taking care of us, even though they are not here physically with us anymore.

What a wonderful start to 2017.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The Dempsey Challenge 2016

I volunteered again this year at The Dempsey Challenge in the Reiki Tent.
dempsey2What a wonderful group of people there!  This was my second year volunteering, and I plan to be part of this wonderful event next year as well.

Every dollar raised by Dempsey Challenge participants directly benefits the Dempsey Center.”

As Ina Garten would say: How great is that?

The only glitch was that when I arrived, they only had size 2XL volunteer T-shirts left. And there I was, without my sash. Anyway, I rocked it!

After my volunteer shift in the tent was over, I went to write my parents’ names, Mary and John Maffeo, on the memory wall. They both died from cancer many years ago, but as anyone knows who has lost a loved one knows all too well, time is nothing. It felt as fresh right then as it ever was. As I stood there looking at their names, my eyes teared up, so I hurried to my car to cry in private.

And then I went back. I walked by the river. I talked to some people. I danced with Mary Dempsey, whom I met at last year’s challenge and who, by the way, is a good dancer!

And this year, I got to meet Patrick Dempsey. I even got a selfie and an autograph! (NOTE: Thank you to the teenaged girl in front of me who gave me that idea!)

How great is that?

🙂

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

Book Review: Celebrating Death

When I discovered that one of my colleagues wrote a book, I celebrating deathcouldn’t wait to read it.  The book is Celebrating Death: A Guidebook for Dying Well by Esther Shapiro, R.N., Msc.D.

The author comes by her expertise regarding death both personally and professionally, and she generously shares her hard-won insights regarding her experiences from both.

Right from the start, I connected with the stories in this book. When the author describes her NDE (Near Death Experience), I was reminded of my own that occurred when I was four years old, when I almost drowned in the lake. The kids I was playing with kept pushing my head under the water, over and over, until I couldn’t figure out which way was up to get out of the water. And then I stopped trying. I saw a very bright light and felt filled with peace. I was not at all fearful. I was just floating and being…until my dad ran in, fully clothed and still wearing his shoes, and pulled me from the water (full disclosure: I don’t actually remember that part).

The author also shares her experience as a hospice nurse. My own two years as a hospice nurse were bookended by the deaths of first my mother and then my father from cancer, and I share Esther’s dissatisfaction with the allopathic medical model and how cancer patients are treated within it. “But to see the Doctors instilling false hope into both the patient and the family is more than I can handle. And, I am trained and expected to go along with it. It makes me sick inside.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

She also introduces the idea of one’s death experience being on a spectrum from good to bad…to very bad. My own parents’ deaths illustrated this. My mother had the worst death of any that I have ever witnessed, bar none. My father had one of the best.  They both had cancer and died at home with hospice within about two years of their diagnosis, but their outcomes were very different.

The idea of an individual choosing their moment of death is also explored in this book. I believe, as the author does, that we choose our time to go, and it doesn’t matter if there is a 24/7 vigil by the bedside. If the person wants to be alone when they pass, then they will. I further agree with her that children shouldn’t be shielded from death and dying. I practice what I preach; my son went to his first wake when he was about 3 weeks old.
One of the more powerful parts of Celebrating Death is when the author tells a story first from the point of view of the cancer patient, and then from the point of view of the patient’s significant other who, as is so often the case, was also his primary caregiver. I was moved to tears of heartbreak as well as outrage by what happened to them.

So, this sort of became ‘all about me’ here, but this is one of the gifts of this book: it will remind you of, and help you to work through, your own feelings and personal encounters with death. In this way, Celebrating Death can be transformational and healing for you, dear reader.

This belongs on your bookshelf next to your Elisabeth Kubler-Ross volumes. It was an honor and a privilege to read this book.

NOTE: Esther Shapiro’s book Celebrating Death is also available on Kindle.

After you read Esther’s book, read my book, One Brave Thing! On Amazon.com, at your local bookseller, and also on Kindle!

My foremothers

This is the first Mother’s Day in 3 years that I have had the day off from work.

YAY!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It gave me more time to spend with my kids, for which I am endlessly grateful. It also gave me more time for reflection, for which I am also very grateful. In years past, I have gone to the ocean to remember my mother and grandmothers, which I got to do today.

In the past, I have written about ‘grieving my dead relatives’ quite often. Today, for some reason, I feel inspired to put up their wedding pictures instead.

My mother and grandmothers: strong, confident, capable women, all. Even if they didn’t always know it.

All are greatly loved and missed.

Just for fun, I am adding a wedding picture of my own (recently taken when renewing our commitment to one another).

Me and Bill

Happy Mother’s Day!!

Give me the flowers

This month, I felt drawn to attend one of Melissa Boyd’s programs where she channels messages from spirit, but I had no one to go with. By nature I am an introvert, and typically I am not a person who likes to go Tulipsplaces alone. Other than, you know, a coffee shop with a book.

Anyway, this month marks the 20th anniversary of the death of my mother (on leap day).  I think that’s why this month, I felt there was a good chance I might get a message from her, so I put on my big girl panties (actually, my big girl thermal panties -it was -3 degrees!) and went by myself.

Right away, I noticed the pretty pink vase with 3 tulips on the table. Three is my favorite number, and tulips are one of my favorite flowers. I thought that after the program, I might ask Melissa who did the flowers for the event so I could get me some of those flowers, and get me one of those pink vases.

Anyway, in the last ten minutes of the program I realized that I was not going to be one of the lucky ones who got a channeled message. I felt that my mother was there, though! I felt sad and disappointed that she didn’t get a chance to speak to me. I consoled myself with the knowledge that the other people present needed their messages more urgently than I did.

But you know, I wanted some validation that she really was there.

And then I heard Melissa say that she intended to raffle off the vases of flowers.

🙂

So I sent my mother a message: “Ma, if you’re here, give me the flowers”.

They called the first number.

Mine.

Thanks, Ma.

Postscript: It gets better. When I got into the car to go home, a song came on the radio. Here’s an excerpt:

“And I have need for nothing more
Oh now that I have found
That You are here with me
Yes You are here with me.”

(From Mountain of God by Third Day)

 

My first 100 Days of Grace

I was wondering once again this past Sunday why the heck I had chosen Grace to be my word–or more accurately, Grace had chosen me to be its person –this year. Brave, my word last year, was a grace rockgreat word! A word you can sink your teeth into! Get your mind around! Get a grip on! Grace is…not. It’s elusive. Ephemeral. Unknown. Unfixed…kind of like me.
So my old friend Jane and my new friend Lisa and I were talking about this on Sunday, when they told me about the 100 day project they had started. They invited me to join, so I did.
Every day I say:
Thank you, God. I am in day ____ of my first 100 days of Grace.
Here is what’s happened during my first 3 days of my first 100 days of Grace:
  • Day 1 Grace: Jane introduced me to Lisa, who told me about her company Cosmic Tonic and T shirts that say Limitless on them (written in a special way). The song Limitless had been in my head all morning, and I had posted a link to it on one of my Facebook pages, The Metaphysical Nurse, right before I met her. (I know, right?!)
  • Day 2 Grace: Bill, my husband, finished reading the first book I wrote and he told me he loved it.  One thing about my husband: He never lies, especially not to spare my feelings. YAY!
  • Day 3 Grace: The song King of the Road was in my head, and a brief flash of a memory of my mother singing it. A visitation? It felt like it was. A gift. The 20th anniversary of her death is this month, February 29.

That’s it so far.

Consider trying this for yourself!

**Here’s a clip of the song King of the Road being sung by one of my mother’s favorite singers, Dean Martin: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZWvi0MaIZs
**Here is the link to some of the many posts I’ve written about My One Word. https://kwrites.com/category/my-one-word/
**I gave meditation a hundred days last year. Here is the link the Give it 100 website, which really helped me succeed: https://giveit100.com/

Life’s short

So, this year there will be a February 29th. This is significant for me because my mother died on February 29th in 1996, 20 years ago. We sort of joked about how kind it was for her to pick a day that only comes once every four years so we wouldn’t have to be sad every year.

Ha. Ha.

the fam in billerica
The family in the early 70’s.

The irony of it is this: there is not a leap year every four years. Did you know that sometimes leap year skips (leaps? 🙂 ) its year? Yep.

Anyway, she was 55 when she died. Two years older than I am now.

She did have two years warning, but sadly, she was very sick from chemotherapy side effects for a lot of that time.

Today, I’ve been thinking. What if I only had two years left? How would the next two years be different for me if I knew they were the last two?

Of course, the lesson here is that none of us knows how much time we have. The reminder is that we can always choose to enjoy this day that we do have. Today.

What are you doing today?

 

Missing my mother

IMG_3330It’s Mother’s Day, and I am missing my mother.

My mother died. Nineteen years ago. Sometimes I am embarrassed by the tears that can suddenly overtake me when I realize that I am still missing her so much. Really? At almost 53 years old?

Really.

Sometimes the emotion sneaks up on me so fast and is so strong that it takes my breath away. But it’s been so long, I think. I shouldn’t still feel so bad, I think.

The truth is that I didn’t appreciate her enough while she was still alive. I left her in a million ways before she left me.

Now that I am the mother in this complicated mother-daughter algorithm, I have insights that I lacked then. It wasn’t until I became a mother that I realized all the ways that my mother was there for me that I didn’t even know about.

We are connected forever to our mothers. My mother carried me inside of her, and now I carry her inside of me. Whenever I wonder if she is still with me, I get a huge rush of feeling-love?- that assures me of her continued presence in my life. Just like when she was still alive, she is always as close as I will allow her to be.

 

The Song of Karen (or whoever)

IMG_1584I went to the Crystal Harp Healing Session at The LoveLight Center with an open mind. I wasn’t sure what the ‘healing’ part was about, but I have heard Cheryl play that instrument before, and that was worth going back for.

There were about 9 of us seated in a circle. Shoes were shed at the door. The sequence was this:
1. She played for the group.
2. She then played an individual melody for each person present.
3. She closed with another song for the group.

It took about half an hour. It was free.

What was it like? Well, you know how when you have a massage or acupuncture session, sometimes there is an emotional release? It was like that for me (full disclosure: so okay, I was crying).
Right before Cheryl said that she was guided to play ‘my’ song first, I was sitting there thinking:

I wonder if my mother is here?

One moment before the music began, I suddenly felt like she was standing right behind me.

Is that you, Ma?

My mother Mary died in February 1996 on Leap Day. She was only about two years older then than I am now.
Then the music started.
Then the tears.
Yep. It was her.
Thanks, Cheryl.