Life sure is following it’s own course in my life. The ups and downs though, have found themselves in synch with a symphony which I know from some other time and reference which is not quite reachable…. and so in that way I am like my grandmother who forgets things.
Today my grandfather died… my aunt, his daughter only died a little less than a month ago… I lost my mother when I was 4, in January of 85, on her mothers birthday…
My family speaks so blatantly through their Spirit, that it seems silly any of them would have sadness…toward Death.
Especially when it is a long, drawn out process…. but they really, the sadness they have, is regret.
Things not done, or said. Wanting more, choosing to give less. Asserting Life that did not include those who no longer Live with Us.
This is hard for people. This is a life transition which holds so much weight. We weigh out our years and experiences with people. We weigh ourselves in our present moment and see impact of past…. we want more.
And today, my partner, in a (I think funny way???) asked me if I should get my head checked out.
Death has been a part of my life since before I was old enough to go to Kindergarten.
My most significant point of reference for life, was wiped off the Earth. My Mother.
I have spent the last 28 years in Reflection, Contemplation, Observation, Critique, Judgment, Assessment and Theory to try and understand some sort of Pattern or Reason to this Malady.
Perhaps you are asking about all the words with capitals, but they have been anthropomorphized by my Experience and therefore Attributes vs. Abstracts.
I have met these Attributes, and I have concluded that Love is Essential.
It is when we are able to see HOW and WHY of any one or thing that Effects Us personally… as to the greater Wisdom.
How does one Create? One learns how things work and why; their personal influence and it’s Overall Effect on Vision…
In my sense of crazy, the voices have gotten stronger…
The premonitions have become more vivid…
People will tell me to stay off drugs, or to get back on my meds, or to take the tin foil hat off… or whatever…
The voices I have, are of my family on the other side of the veil.
I now have four strong voices in my head…
My mother, who exacerbates my inclinations toward cussing… and loves to love in a sort of crass way… she likes affection, and I fight her. She also has guided my writing hands for as long as I have chosen to take up writing… which was taught to me by my grandmother, her mother, whose mother (my great grandmother) was a teacher. My mother also bonds me to her siblings, which other than deep dedication to the understanding, I am like ALL of them in SOME way… I could be seen as reclusive, but also a world Bridger of sorts. My mother set me up to be a world bridger.
My Brother. My best friend and comrade of youth. How we tatteled and told so… but he speaks to me through music, as it was a bond, he also tattles through my writing of certain things… and he comes to my dreams in every age of face possible to the incarnation he had in this time. He was the first death that came through one of my visions. He showed me something that I would have to be prematurely aware of in order to be able to represent him through my family in their pain… but also to be with them through their pain and NOT be a nutcase.
January of last year, my gramps fell ill… my aunt who had been living at her elderly parents home, was having special treatment for her condition in Denver, 100 miles away.
My cell phone wasn’t working, and neither was the wifi on my computer. I was about 200 miles away in a rural residential area. My car was “broken” and I was off grid for a week staying with friends… not really sure what the Universe wanted next.
I picked up a loose WiFi signal from some neighbors and had an hour of internet… I checked my messages and one from my dad said my Grandfather was put in the hospital… I immediately panicked for my Grandma… she is one of the greatest Loves of my life…and for so many reasons.
I had to get my car fixed… some guys who do meth gave it a radiator flush and some other help… I still left with my car smoking and acting funny, only to find out the radiator cap had been left off the car…
I got back into town… my grandma at the hospital with him.. and no one to let the dog out back at her house.
I camped out. She needed someone there. I went to her house, and let her dog out, and for the next four months I slept in the same bed as my grandma. In my grandpas spot, just so she didn’t feel alone,
Sorry to say, but my rather celibate lifestyle and my penchant for sleep masturbation brought an end to that nonsense… I mean I was 31… waking up to MYSELF doing this, with my grams, just a couple feet away on the same mattress, that probably never saw her and her husband knocking’ boots.
Perhaps people just let things slide in the olden days, but I was not okay with it… so the task of cleaning the basement of my aunts hoarding came into play, in order to find a modicum of liberation.
Liberation kind of turned me into a bitchier bitch than I already was…
I got here, to this place, where my grandma needed SOMEONE to just BE there and DO SOMETHING with her… and I threw myself in, so hard. We played several games of cribbage a day… an old fav of everyone in this house. Even this was painful… all she could think of was my grandfather and his brother who had only died a year previously. They had been her partner and opponent. She was sad… She didn’t like the game as much, even though I was funny and we played hands that were hands neither of us had ever seen. And, I am pretty sure she had played over a million hands of cribbage.
I tried really hard. I knew my aunt was a hoarder before she got there. She had already been labeled…. While she was in Denver, I talked to her on the phone, and I told her that I believed in her, but she had to let go. But that I would be there to help her and I had her back… all she had to do was try.
My aunt came home, and I never feel like she “REALLY” tried. I lost my drive, and gave up on her permission. I started to go through it anyway and throw away trash… secretly I felt like I was killing her by getting rid of the “filler” that was her material possessions, which mostly just added up in trash shat on by mice or disseminated by meal worms.
I felt like I was digging up a carcass which was pulling out her life force… and, maybe, I guess; because of her condition, I didn’t find pain in it… because I know she wasn’t living or enjoying her present life, and that which she was coveting, was just a past tainted and unattainable.
I kind of feel like I helped my aunt go… but in a very energetic way. I read her writing and her Spirit was SO MUCH BIGGER and BEAUTIFUL than her ability to exist on this Earth with Dignity. And that is sad… but truth. The most honest and beautiful people on this planet, are usually physically and materially less than desirable. Spirit works in weird ways and our treasures are not of this world… neither are we, to some degree.
The day before my aunt went, I was gifted with a vision… it told me my sister was pregnant with a girl (maybe 2 or 3?) and that my aunt would go. My sister called me the next morning and I knew her news before she shared… my aunt died later that night.
Most people are not fixated on the Spirit of a person; it isn’t their point of reference for importance. So when you see another, judgment might make you inclined to be disappointed, it is superficial… Our Spirit is looking into other Spirits and this is why Love is the transcendent factor.
I judged my aunt for a long time. She left my cousin, who is five years older , and like a brother to me. She left him as a near adult, but she left him in her own mess with little to fall back on, but his own reserve and talent.
And he is a success today. Not only in my eyes, but in the eyes of the community… but what do I wish?
I wish she would have been more honest with herself and those around her. I wish she would have expressed her intentions.
I wish that I get to see my cousin more often and hang out.. because we get along, and have common interests and history… and we love each other.
My mother, who died when I was four, has whispered in my head, ears and heart; for a VERY LONG time, that We All Just Need To Communicate, And Then The Love Will Come…
And everyone has been fighting it… even me. I went away from home for a dozen years because I thought I could just Mandie-fest what my family didn’t offer. While away, I learned I was just enough like each of them, for better or worse, that there was no escape… and when need called me home I HAD TO GO. I was representing more than myself in a sinking ship.
It’s not because no one tried… it’s just the unintentional anchors are adrift. We raised a family of amazing, talented, and some what antisocial people.
We raised a family which is so interesting, but also so incongruent. And that is fine.. but these voices in my head from these people no longer physically incarnate… don’t want it to end like this. They honor All of It. And they seem a little forceful to share it, through me….
I want to share it, because I believe it. I think it is valid and potentially beneficial. My family is weird and amazing. I think we could potentially share a lot of great ideas on evolution with one another, IF we could just make the time or share the passion… It’s what my voices want.
And these voices of my family tell me that they approve and they want to see me truck on… but how far am I willing to go, or try??? My most recent track record finds itself weak and that is a shame… I know I could do better…
Tomorrow, er today is a new day to try and formulate how that can be created.