You see hearing my son’s voice was not new to me. It usually came through loud enough for even my daughter to hear….fragmented and strained as if it took a great deal of effort to come through. Every time I heard it my heart would shatter in a million pieces all over again. I would cry until I had nothing left and then I would sink deep into a dark, numbing lifeless place where nothing and no one could reach me. It was a good place, where I felt no emotion, no pain, no joy no voices, no dreams just a deep dark void, I was reduced to nothing but an empty lifeless shell.
Every attempt to walk out of that place and join the living resulted in extreme anger. An anger so dark, so extreme that it would destroy everything in its path with absolutely no remorse. Nothing fazed me. I guess you could say I went through life on automatic pilot. I wanted to die because I couldn’t feel my heart. I was scarcely aware of the world or anyone in it.
Every attempt my son made to get through to me in dreams, awake and other wise just resulted in the same cycle, brief moments of awareness, tremendous amounts of grief followed by dark crazy insane bouts of anger. His attempts to communicate even included conveying a message to me thorough my daughter’s sleeping body. I will never forget it, I had been balling profusely and heard a noise in the closet that caught my attention. It was right at that moment, my daughter just 4 years old, sat up her eyes closed and she said “mommy my brother wanted me to beg you not to cry any more” she fell back down, never breaking her breathing right back to sleep. She had no recollection of it in the morning.
It would be those brief extraordinary moments that would allow me to take a look around, face the wake of my destruction in absolute horror and would cause me to sink even deeper. It was as if, it was the only way to protect the ones that loved me. I can not convey this any other way except to say that it was then that I understood how truly powerful my wayward soul had become. Sinking alone into the abyss was perhaps the only way not to take everyone down with me.
By this time, I had succeeded, I had managed to remain numb without any ups or downs, I existed but I was no longer alive. I had managed to shut out the little voice, all voices everything. Then one day, there was nagging in my head that persisted …insisted refused to be silenced no matter how much I ignored that said “TAKE THE PICTURE NOW” Since it wouldn’t give up, I mindlessly snapped a picture. The one many of you have seen on FB, with the small being of light standing next to me while I sat in the dark. The only light that shines comes from another dimension, because I clearly preferred sitting in utter darkness and staring at nothing.
I took one look at that picture and the dam, the wall, that I had so painstakingly constructed around my heart BROKE, releasing with it a flood of tears. It was right at that very moment when I realized what had been causing my pain. It was then, that I understood that my son refused to leave my side until he knew I would be OK. The severe pain, frustration the complete and utter helplessness belonged to my baby. He stayed waiting for me to release him. The anger was a reflection of my soul's disappointment in myself, for not making peace with his death.
My empathic ability to pick up emotions of those in this realm and beyond picked up on my son’s frustrations. Once you leave your body, your soul instantly becomes part of a higher vibration so the deeper I sank, the wider the divide became. As my vibration continued to sink, so did my ability to hear and sense him. Can you imagine what that is like? To put in perspective, it would be the equivalent of losing your child right before your eyes, searching frantically high and low trying to find him while all the while someone places a one way mirror BTW you and your child, that becomes sound proof as it gets thicker and thicker. Your child is right in front of you banging on the glass but your unseeing eyes belonging to your conscious mind simply can not see him. Every effort to get through resulted in not only his frustration but the frustration of my subconscious mind. My over-soul watched helplessly, while my son frantically watched his mommy and younger sister suffer. The anger was a result of my own disappointment knowing this was going on but not being able to get through.
You could say the realization hit me like a ton of bricks! It took my breath away, I was able to see my child, hear him, he finally got through to me. The message crystal clear, “you are the reason I cant get through. I have been trying to tell you that I am here that I haven’t left you, that I am waiting for you to release me, I have to know mommy that you are going to be OK and that you will take good care of Tammy. Look at my sister mommy, she has grown up without you, you stared right through us both. I cant leave you like this I am suffering here and I am not meant to.” The message pierced my heart beyond this realm, I cried out in agony, an inhuman piercing scream that finally shattered the proverbial glass wall that separated us. There were no words both of us understanding that I had finally heard him.
Letting him go into the light my son gave me his last and final gift, it was then that I felt the peace, a love so intense it took my breath away. It was home, my home, it is the energy that I had forgotten during my incarnation here. The energy that called me home as a baby, the same energy I longed for during that time. My words can not convey these emotions adequately except to say that if we all could feel this, know that we would all drop everything and return home.
His gift to me, raised my vibration and opened the door so that I could forever keep one foot planted between two realms. I not only hear him clearly, I hear my guides, my source and all the beings that live at home. I understood right then, that he will never be lost to me, that there is no such thing as death and that raising my vibration through mastery of this last and final lesson enabled my ability to stay connected. The opening of that door, awakened my soul,, and enables me to share my wisdom with you now. I remembered who I really was and more importantly my purpose for being here. I became “THE HIDDEN ONE” connected to everything and everyone, understanding that sometimes the greatest gifts are hidden in plain sight awaiting your discovery.
So if you are wondering what was the message that day in church. The story I had been trying so desperately to find.. Ahhh yes….I can still hear his sweet laughter in my ear "Happy Mother's Day mommy..." It was right then and there that a woman stood up to share a poem that will forever be engraved in my heart.
The Special Mother by Erma Bombeck
Did you ever wonder how mothers of disabled children were chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over the earth selecting his instruments of propagation with great care and deliberation.
As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"This one gets a daughter. The Patron saint will be Cecelia"
"This one gets twins. The Patron saint will be Matthew"
"This one gets a son. The Patron saint.....give her Gerard. He's used to profanity"
Finally He passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a disabled child".
The angel is curious. "Why this one God? She's so happy" "Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a disabled child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel!"
"But has she patience?" asks the angel. "I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of sorrow and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today, she has that feeling of self and independence that is so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has his own world. She has to make him live in her world and that's not going to be easy."
"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you" God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect - she has just enough selfishness" The angel gasps - "Selfishness? is that a virtue?" God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally she won't survive. Yes here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word'. She will never consider any 'step' ordinary. When her child says "Momma" for the first time she will be present at a miracle and will know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty and prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as if she is here by my side"
"And what about her Patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid air. God smiles "A mirror will suffice"
