Over my life, I have had omens appear throughout my life. I have had visitations from family members that have passed on to the other side. They not only have happened to me, but to other family members as well, thousands of miles apart happening at the same time. I cannot explain them as they happened.
The first one to appear was when I was a teenager. My grandfather (my father’s father) died on year and mysteriously a red headed woodpecker appeared at my bedroom window. And he pecked at the window. continuously …
It got very aggravating after while. The bird, the pecking and my parents besides themselves wondering what the hell was going on.
The bird would follow me from the house to my bus stop at the end of our block every day. This went on for weeks and weeks. The bird would then follow around the house to whatever room I was in. I could open the window and tell ( AL ) to quit, and the bird would go. I could also stand outside and call ( AL ) and the bird would appear.
Soon after, my uncle Paul died, thousands of miles from Miami Florida. He lived and died in Connecticut. Where my family originated. One day my uncle John was black topping the driveway and a blue jay appeared on the lawn.
Now, Blue Jays are known for being ornery birds. But this one was different. Like the wood pecker, the blue jay followed my uncle around the house to whatever room he was in and would peck at the window. This went on for weeks and weeks.
There was discussion between Miami and Newington about this occurrence.
Two deaths, two birds, miles apart, but telling the same message.
After a while, our woodpecker decided to go. We did not see him again. A few weeks later, my uncle called us to tell us that a woodpecker had appeared at his window along with the blue jay. They stayed for some time together pecking at the windows and following people around the house and yard.
After some time, both birds disappeared. Never to be seen again.
When my grandmother, (my father’s mother) died, I brought home flowers from the funeral home and put them in my bedroom. That is when she began to appear in my bedroom. I always caught sight of her standing at the end of my bed. At first she freaked me out, but she returned nevertheless.
That took place over a period of time. But she was persistent.
Years later, I had moved to Fort Lauderdale Florida. I got sick and shit went down. I lived in a one bedroom apartment, with an ac unit in the bedroom. I always slept with the bedroom door closed.
That is when I began to notice things being moved or shifted.
Magazines on the living room table would fall to the floor. Pictures on the wall would be tilted. I could never explain it. But it happened over a period of weeks.
I was seeing a friend who was intuitive and a tarot card reader. I asked him to come over the house and tell me what was going on. We stepped into the apartment, and he said that a woman with red hair was in the apartment. And he also said that she told him to tell me not to sleep with the door closed.
It seemed that she could not get through the door, for whatever reason. But she could move things.
He did not know my grandmother, or that she was dead. I did not tell him anything about the situation, aside from the moved items. He explained the woman he saw down to a T. Yes, that was my grandmother. Early in her life she had red hair, she appeared as she had as a younger version of herself.
I never slept with the door closed ever again. And to this day, the bedroom door is always open.
Years later, when my grandmother (my mother’s mother) died, my mother forbade me to go to the funeral. God forbid someone see me in my sickly state.
For weeks after the funeral, Memere appeared to me. I would sit and write letters in her voice to my mother. In her handwriting. Signed with her name. As the letters were completed, I would mail them.
I am sure my mother kept them and never spoke about them, she probably thought I was going crazy and that it was me doing this stunt. She never mentioned the letters ever.
I moved to Canada in 2002. I worked very hard at a relationship with my family over two years time. I wrote every two weeks. A letter to get there took a week, and a return would take another week. I got no replies, ever.
The last thing my mother said to me in our final conversation was that if either she or my father died, nobody would call me, and I would not be told where they were buried. And that was that.
Fast forward to 2005…
One night, sometime after we got married I was in my bedroom, and I saw my mother appear standing in the room. She said she was sick, and that she was going to die. I attempted to prove this by calling, and got no response, in either case.
I cannot confirm nor deny that that actually happened. My father would never give me the satisfaction of that proof. He would continue punishing me for my adult decisions.
My Aunt Georgette was a Grey Nun, who I met when I first moved here. My mother, miraculously, gave me that introduction. So we met and began a relationship that lasted a number of years.
She ended up in the hospital after being diagnosed with inoperable Cancer. They had tried a surgery, but it was too far spread to help, so they closed her up and sorted her out into the intensive care unit.
On her last night of life, she was all hooked up to machines with bells and whistles. That scared her too much, so they turned them all off and hooked her up to a morphine drip that took her life. (cue assisted suicide).
I sat with her all night, reading the Tibetan Book of the dead, while she wasted away. At 3 a.m. she spoke her last words. She wanted a priest, said the devil was trying to take her and that she was afraid. I could not find a priest in the middle of the night, so I prayed with her. She closed her eyes and went off.
At 8 in the morning the nuns from the house came to her. The nurse cleaned her up and sorted her out. I said to her that I was going home and that I would return soon. I came home and showered and laid down for a nap.
As I was laying in bed, I felt her move through me. Like a wave or a breeze. I could actually smell her move past me. A little while later the phone rung and it was the hospital telling me that Sister Georgette was dead, and if I wanted to come up to see her, I told them I would see her at the Mother House.
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Now we are in 2014.
We live in a high rise apartment building. And there is a building to our right hand side that is not as tall as our building. There is a flock of about 30 pigeons that sit on the building side every day. I see them daily.
I’m laying in bed one morning, not long ago, and I hear cooing from outside the window, on the balcony. There on the balcony floor are TWO pigeons.
They stayed for a while.
We’ve never had pigeons come on to the balcony before. Ever.
But here they were. I did not think much of it, I thought that one pigeon was chasing the other one around and ended up on the balcony for some reason. So I dismissed the sighting. Thought it coincidence. And let it go.
The pigeons returned over a number of days. Always in the morning, while I was in my bed. And never during the day. (hmmm… strange).
They have not returned, however the pigeons still roost on the building next door. But none of them have come over to our balcony again.
Lately, I’ve been pondering the omens. And came to the conclusion that the visitation is truth and that the message is clear. Nobody called, yet something must have happened.
Because TWO pigeons appeared, not one. That is a solid message.
Me thinks not.
I’ve always thought about this happening and what I would do if I could confirm that my parents died and nobody called. (cue pent up anger and rage).
If I am a portal and that all these omens DID take place throughout my life, not only to me but other family members, then the omens speak and have spoken.
God help the person on the other end of rage if I ever get the news directly.
So that is my omen story.
Courtesy: The Worlds Havoc
The weather has been on our side as of late. It has been just beautiful here on our side of the country. However not so much out West. From Ice Bergs on the East Coast to Sun in the Center and finally rain and floods out West, it hasn’t been a cake walk for so many. We are keeping many in our thoughts and prayers.
I’ve had a jumble of thoughts running through my head as I work on my fourth step work, and as that work coincides with readings from literature, my brain has been on overdrive for a few days. And rather than sit here and drop verbal diarrhea, I have spent the past few days sitting on my thoughts, allowing them space, and trying to find the balance of feeling what is there on the surface, and then being cool with letting them go, and not hanging on to shit that has nothing to do with today.
It is one thing to speak to my guys and then my friends and giving them sound advice, it is quite another thing to listen and take my own advice on board. I am a work in progress.
My fears, guilt, and resentment lists are short, but what is on the lists is strong and potent. The past is just that, the past. It has no bearing on the present, or on the day.
Estrangement is a funny beast.
I have problems coping, as an Adult, with how another human being can just shut off one’s light off and plunge them into darkness as a punishment for sin or non-compliance.
How does one live with themselves when you intentionally place another human being in the DARK?
You silence their voice and kill their spirit.
How does one go on with life, knowing that your voice is not important, and that your life is not important in the grand scheme of things?
When we are born, we have family. Whether good or bad, it is out of our control.
We grow up and find our way into the world, on whatever path we take. I certainly went through my fuck up phase. I did my own damage. But in the same breath, damage was done to me as well.
Post fuck up phase, we move into our age of enlightenment. I got it once, and I got it a second time. I made my series of life decisions that were meant to keep me alive, fed and a roof over my head.
Family is supposed to be thicker than blood. Family is the most important part of our lives, either the one we came from, or the one we create on our own. I did not choose my family of origin. They are the ones who shut my light off.
Today, I have my family of choice. And that has worked for me.
The time had come for me to sever the connection with family of origin. Because that was a toxic situation. Today, I am guilty of many things. I made self serving choices. Self centered choices, that were necessary for my life to move forwards.
But that light switch is still off. And it will never get turned back on.
Some time ago, an omen came to me. It appeared and it happened more than once.
This omen has presented itself to me before. And always took place after a death. And I respect this omen as truth. But this time there was not one but two omens to appear. They came as a pair.
I blew it off as coincidence.
But the more I ponder them, the more it has become clear to me that it wasn’t just coincidence. They were sent. I had no part in the sending. But I was part to the appearance. I know what the omen means.
So that is a thing.
I know I can’t change what’s done. And I am coming to accept that I won’t ever get to speak my mind, as I think I need to. Because at this point, what is it going to matter? What good could come of it?
I made the shift. I had to make it. That was what had to happen, to guarantee my survival. People got bent. We are all adults. It is sad that as an adult, my decisions were seen as a slight and irreconcilable. How does that work?
Do you parents punish your kids when they make adult decisions? We all make decisions in life. And most likely, not everyone may be happy with the decisions we make, but I would have thought, maybe stupidly, that people would grow to respect and acknowledge our truth.
That did not happen.
And that is a thing.
One day, thanks to social media, and the progress of communication, the people who need to find me, when they get to make that decision, will. I am hoping that one day we will all find the pieces.
Because like Troy Dunn says, “You can’t find peace, until you find all the pieces.”
My puzzle is in pieces.
So that is a thing.
There is a storm blowing about, and I am in the eye of the storm, so to speak. As long as I stay in the center, eventually it will all work out.
You can either get stuck in the storm or you can navigate around it. I hope with my time (in) that I have learned how to navigate.
So that is a thing.
More to come, stay tuned …
Sinai photographed from STS 109 – Shuttle Columbia March 1,2002 …
I’d imagine that if Armageddon was going to take place, this is the place we would imagine the first strike to take place, or the first event. It is 3:10 a.m. on Friday morning. Nothing happened, or should I say, nothing has happened
If you are a listener of Late Night Radio, ala Coast to Coast for any length of time you would know that all the crazies in the world listen to this show night after night. And we have been all through the list of crazies over the last year.
We have the ads for end of days Armageddon style food sales, you know, just for those moments when a disaster takes place and you need those ready to eat meals, They aren’t just for earthquakes and hurricanes Yall !!! If you have a spare couple of hundred dollars that you can plunk down for mass storage food stuffs, and you gotta have a place to put it all, and who has a spare bomb shelter in their property portfolio ???
I hear in UTAH that there are bunkers that have been prepared for today’s calamity to take place. I have also heard that the cleansing of the righteous from the non-righteous will take place today. That God is going to cleanse the earth of the sinful and errant peoples. That only the righteous will be saved from God’s judgment.
There is a town in Southern France that is supposed to be a vortex location and that when the earth meets its end, that the aliens are going to appear there and take away all those who fled to the safety of this mountain perch.
All over the tv tonight have been every kind of end of days programming. People trying to divine what the Mayans were trying to say and what that damned calendar and glyphs really have to say, since they are woefully incomplete, and the end story is all up to conjecture.
We’ve heard over the last year all those good preacher men who have foretold of the coming Apocalypse and twice they were wrong and God did not come screaming out of his heaven to take us all to heaven and send all the sinners to hell.
That would mean all of us LGBTQ folks. Because homosexuality is all so sinful and errant of God’s ways … Oh, I kid …
Did you partake in the hysteria of the end of days? Did you buy into the end of the world? Are you hoarding food, guns, ammunition and all kinds of food stuffs? Because you know, when the end comes later today it is going to be utter anarchy in the streets. People clawing and fighting for food and guns.
And those who are prepared for the end will be hunkered down in their bunkers and nuclear safe type hovels defending themselves from the marauding hordes of people who did not listen to the council of the folks who have spent the better part of the last year telling us all this it is coming and you’d better be prepared.
All this talk of financial ruin coming to the U.S. The wars over seas and the Arab spring running into Arab Winter. You never know if the Anti-Christ is going to rise from the desert sand of the Middle East somewhere like Iran or some other backwater Middle Eastern country. Because like I said above, if Armageddon was going to take place, you’d probably be looking over there for him.
I have read that the sun isn’t going to erupt in some hellish solar flare that is going to knock out the electrical and communications grids all over the world. And at this hour, I haven’t read of any earthquakes, tsunamis or volcanic eruptions taking place anywhere in the world.
And when you wake and come upon this entry – having said your prayers to whatever God you pray to the night before, you will rise and the sunrise will be glorious – just like the day before.
And I am sure on Friday night on Coast to Coast they will be hosting a night of checking in with all those folks who have added to the mass hysteria that today is supposed to unleash on humankind.
Did the ancients get it right? Will we come to rise above ourselves and grow in spiritual awakening? Will we rise to the next level of humanity overnight? And what have we learn in this exercise of preparing ourselves for the end of the world. And what will we say to all those folks who are hiding in their bomb shelters as I write this.
Will we see a nuclear Armageddon from the East? Because if we do, for those of us who could not afford a bomb shelter – we are all goners … So I guess before I go to bed I should say my final prayers – kiss my ass goodbye and hope to wake up tomorrow morning.
Today my husband is traveling to Ottawa to see his family, and it may be his last meeting with them if we are to believe that something BIG will take place tomorrow some time. Who knows.
It’s the end of the world as we know it. And when you wake tomorrow – what kind of world will it be? And what will we say to all those crazies out there sitting in their bomb shelters and on mountain tops and those fleeing the big cities into the interior of the United States and Europe because the oceans are going to swell and swallow up all the coastal land. God forbid you know that volcano on the Canary Islands that is supposed to blow its peak and send a tsunami across the Atlantic and submerge the entire East Coast of the United States.
You are all FUCKED !!!
Shall we make a prediction of what all will happen the day after tomorrow?
Sit tight. I will report more as the day progresses.
More to come, stay tuned …
It is probably not unthinkable that spirits inhabit the churches in Montreal. Many of them have been built long ago. Many religious properties in our city housed nuns and priests and monks. Where the religious have gone, sacred spaces have been re-appropriated by the city as historical buildings and cannot be torn down, but can be updated to meet new specifications.
In the basement of the Grey Nun’s Mother house, just up the block from us, houses the remains of past grey nuns who lived and died in the house, buried in the crypt beneath the building. Once the remaining nuns vacate the property the crypt will be cemented over forever. Down in that crypt were the resting places of Mere D’Youville before she was declared a saint.
My Aunt Georgette used to take me down there to pray and to see the relics and rooms that were preserved in her memory. Mere D’Youville was moved to a crypt beneath the main altar in the church above, until the building was sold to Concordia University. Mere D’Youville was moved from her resting place at the Mother House to another Mother House on the South Shore of Montreal, where the nuns will live. Which is where my aunt Georgette is buried.
I say all these things as a preface of what I am going to write about now…
God has been known to make appearances at St. Leon’s Church hall, during really good meetings. The light comes down from the church and alights on the folks in the room. I have seen this happen over the years at certain points in my journey, and those of the others.
Recently, as I come into the darkened hall on some afternoons, the air is cool and I am alone in the space for 2 hours prior to anyone coming in to read. I like that alone time. I enjoy it. I put on some tunes and I set up. When that is finished I go outside to people watch. Then I come back downstairs to read.
And that is when it happens. And it happened again today. I am sitting at the head of the table where I always sit, Barbra Streisand was singing Christmas Carols in my ear and I was thumbing through a Grapevine.
Several times while I was sitting there, just above my field of vision, I saw shadows move across the doorway from the entrance hall into the room itself. And it didn’t happen once, it happened several times. Almost like it wanted me to see it pass through. I was looking down, but to an extent I could just turn my gaze upwards towards the doors looking up from my book and see it.
I caught myself looking up several times as I was sitting there. Whatever it was, it moved soundlessly. And it almost hung in the doorway. This isn’t the first time that I have seen this shadow move into the room. And it is always when I am alone in the space.
I don’t know the exact history of the building save for the bronze plaque that sits outside the church and denotes its building history. The hall is a multi-use space. Several meetings use the hall, kids day programs and church functions take place there as well. And sometimes wakes and viewings happen in the hall, but it is quite a task carrying a coffin down those stairs into the hall and then back up again.
You never know who is visiting on any given day. Thousands of sober people have graced that hall over the past 75 years.
It is heart warming to be able to share the space with the spirits. I am not immune to this kind of phenomena. I’ve been visited before by departed family members over the years, so when I see it manifest I welcome it.
That space is blessed and God visits us on occasion … it is quite an awe inspiring vision of the holy.
That is all.
More tomorrow. Time for bed …
I’m bored … and dinner is not ready yet. And the movie wasn’t showing today.
Hubby woke me up this morning with his announcement that he checked the theatre website and our film was not on till tomorrow. So we rescheduled and added a third person to join us on the adventure. So that will be good.
I thought about inviting a friend along with us tomorrow, so I cleared it with my sponsor and made the call. My friend is going through treatment for prostate cancer and I’ve been keeping a close eye on him, calling him and just being kind.
I think it is easy to be complacent – but much more important to be kind.
Well, what do we have here ??? It’s been a long time since I have written a Plinky Prompt. The website is a collection of writing prompts that wordpress encourages us to use to get the “creative juices” flowing.
I don’t think I’ve told this story, so here it is.
This story takes place a long time ago in my timeline. I was a teen-ager living with my parents. Whether or not you believe in the here after is not a question, but this happened to us.
My uncle Paul, lived in Connecticut. He was old and died when I was young. One day my uncle John, was blacktopping the driveway and a Bluejay flew out of a tree and landed right where he was standing.
Birds are birds right, they don’t usually fly up to people for no good reason.
This was just after Paul died.
And where ever my uncle John went in the yard or even in the house, the bird would fly to whatever window was closest and peck on the glass. This pecking went on for weeks and weeks. And at one point uncle John went outside and called to the bird to stop pecking.
The bird stopped pecking …
My grandfather died while I was still living at home. He was suffering from a stroke, alcoholism and fading age.
A couple of days past his funeral, I was in my bedroom doing whatever. And there was a huge tree, well, there were several. A 50 foot oak, a smaller flowering tree and a grapefruit bush.
On that particular day a red headed woodpecker appeared at my window and began to peck. This bird followed me up to the bus stop at the end of the street, it would be there when I got off the bus and it followed me all over the house, pecking on the windows. The pecking went on for weeks and weeks.
It got so aggravating that we would walk out and say to the air, “get out of here Al!” which was my grandfathers name. And the bird would stop pecking. But it did that for a long time.
Weeks and weeks went by and two pecking bird stories were shared by two families 1500 miles apart.
At some point, Al was ready to move on … and he did eventually leave us.
But a couple of weeks later my uncle called from Connecticut saying that Paul was still hanging around the house, and then he added that a woodpecker appeared with the bluejay at their house, 1500 miles away.
They both pecked for a while then they took off. Neither bird was ever seen again.
My grandmother (on my dad’s side) lived a while longer than my grandfather. She had a massive stroke and was disabled when she died. I was living with Gloria not far from my childhood home.
I went to the funeral and it was a very sad time for me because grammy was my whole world. I missed her terribly.
I had brought a couple of flower arrangements back to the house and kept them in my bedroom. I just had a feeling …
It wasn’t long after that that she appeared to me. Grammy would always silently stand at the foot of my bed and watch me. The first time she came she scared the shit out of me, I was like, “don’t do that …”
Her apparition stayed with me for a couple months.
Time would pass, I would move three times, I was in my 26th year of life and I was living in a small apartment not far from the bar I worked at when I was diagnosed with AIDS in 1994.
It was a one bedroom flat with a living room, kitchen seating area, a walk in closet and a small bedroom. I would sleep at night in my room, with the door shut at night.
Things started happening in the apartment. Pictures on the wall would move, magazines on the tables would move and drop to the floor. I could not explain this, but I was sure I wasn’t alone.
I was seeing a Tarot Card reader at a shop just up the block from home. He was a gifted man whom I trusted for advice. I mentioned the “happenings” to him in passing and he offered to come and see what he could find.
So one afternoon he came over and walked into the apartment and sat down. Almost immediately, he had a face, hair color and the answer to my question.
He saw an older woman with red hair and a kind face. When i was a child, grammy had fire red hair, I have pictures of her from that time period.
He said that she was hanging around watching me and that she asked him to tell me not to sleep with the door shut because for some reason, she couldn’t get through the door. I knew it was her.
Never did I sleep with the door closed again. And she stopped moving things around. She stayed with me for a long while, when I got sick. I needed her strength.
Some years later, my memere died. (my mother’s mother). Again, my world was shaken by her death. My mother did not want me to go to the funeral because of my gayness and my HIV positive state of being, and she made that perfectly clear to me. I had stashed enough cash aside to afford a ticket to fly to Connecticut, but I decided against it.
For weeks after her death, memere visited me. I saw her in my sleep. I had fits of writing compulsively in her hand, with her words. I knew it was her and I progressively wrote these letters to my mother – from her, and the things she wanted me to tell her.
I am sure my mother still has these letters, and that she probably thinks I was crazy, but I will never know anyways.
That’s three for three.
My parents returned with mementos from the funeral. Statues, photographs, paintings from both my grammy and memere. They sat in my personal shrine and they went with me on the slip that almost killed me.
I lost everything that I owned on that slip. Including my mementos.
Fast Forward to Montreal. I met my great aunt Georgette at the Grey Nun’s Convent just up the street from my apartment. I visited often for meals and Eucharistic Celebrations. And she shared stories with me of Memere from when she was a child.
My great Aunt Georgette’s family in the 1920’s during the Spanish Flu epidemic that killed millions of people had claimed the lives of Memere’s parents, and they took her in and raised her as their own.
I learned all this history from her over the 2 years that she lived, she was well into her 80’s. At one point, I got a call from the convent that she was in hospital and that it was terminal.
The doctors said that they would operate to take out the cancer, so we waited and hours into the operation they came out and told me that it was a no go, that there was way too much cancer and that nothing could be done to save her.
The convent came together and the sisters came to visit her. They were all she had and I was as close to the next of kin as you could get. Her brothers and sisters lived in Atlantic Canada and would eventually come for the funeral service.
When it all got too painful for her, they took her up to the ICU at the Montreal General Hospital and there were machines galore, bells, whistles and flashing lights. She did not like this at all. It scared her. When they tried to place an oxygen mask on her face she went crazy.
Then they decided that the only other choice was Morphine …
They turned off the machines and the lights, and strung her up with an IV line dripping morphine. I sat by her bed through the night I was reading the Bhagavad Gita.
The surgeon who worked on her came by in the middle of the night, prior to our last conversation, to check on her, shouting loudly, as if she was trying to communicate with a dead person.
At 3 a.m. she stirred and grabbed my hand and asked me to find her a priest. I did not know who to call, so I asked her ICU nurse. It was late in the night and she wasn’t sure she could locate one.
I stood over her bed and listened to her tell me that the devil was trying to take her and that she needed a priest and prayers. So I put my book down and began to pray over her and with her. We said the Lords Prayer and she faded off into lala land.
Her eyes had rolled into her head. And she was gone.
The next morning came and the shift nurse came on and the sister’s came for morning watch. I kissed her cheek and said that I would be back shortly. I was going to walk down the hill to home, take a nap and go back.
Around 11 am that morning I was laying in my bed and I felt her move through me and past me. Shortly afterwards the phone rang and the nurse told me that she had passed. I did not return to see he at the hospital, but opted to greet her when we buried her at the Mother House.
I have her picture on my sacred shrine in my bedroom. Along with the items I received from the nuns. A rosary, my relic that she carried close to her heart. And a Marian statue.
Whatever memory remains, must be written down so as not to forget it. They are all I have today. The women who meant the most to me are long since gone. But people are never far away if we remember them on a daily basis.
So, if we are being realistic, this afternoon I took my last power nap. Seeing tomorrow we are all gonna die, some of us have first class seats on the rapture express to heaven, and then the rest of us will be stuck here to live in hell until the end of the world in October.
I had only one thing on the table for tonight, and that was a meeting. I got up earlier today and farted around, I am not one for usual daytime tv, since I am a night person. So I checked my mail, did some surfing on the web and decided to take a three hour nap before having to get up and prepare to go out this evening.
I must have been channeling the apocalypse because I had this very vivid dream which I know I was dreaming because I brought it out into the waking state and it is still in the front of my brain at this hour.
I was on this planet and everything was laid wasted and I was on this continuum of movement. I was on this train of movement. And things around us were in flux and the more I moved forwards the more things were changing, being destroyed and being recreated at the same time. Everything around me was moving.
As we moved forwards I could see things being built again from scratch and forming here and there as I moved through this “space” then I was on the shore of the ocean and a bridge went up and we were building the bridge. Then we were back on land and pictures of things were passing us by. I could see the pictures and what they were, people and places. Then I was in this huge crafting room and watching markers and paints pass by and as they did, I could collect some of them for myself, I don’t know why I was collecting them, but I did.
The continuum kept moving forwards and I was on this moving platform. Then we moved through this manufacturing building making ovens and ice cream makers, I knew what they were because I once worked in an ice cream shop as a teen-ager.
It was all very colorful and weird at the same time. It just kept going on and on, and I was roped into my place on the line and I could see people I knew moving past me on other lines. It was all very strange.
Things were changing and moving. People were coming and going. I couldn’t stop people on their trains, as I could not stop mine. And as things were destroyed and recreated the colors were amazing – I kept noticing things that I recognized as I moved from here to there.
It was almost an astral projection. And maybe it could have been. I don’t usually bring forth technicolor dreams like this, I usually forget them quickly after waking. Maybe because the world is fixated on the end of the world, the dream stayed present.
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I got up when the alarm went off and I got in the shower and prepped to go.
I made all my connections and got to the meeting at half past eight. It was a good meeting. Tonight’s speaker was the fiance of the young man who spoke last Friday night at that same meeting. Just a couple years sober, her story was all over the place. It was insane. Listening to newbies speak is painful, add to that the fact that she is a slipper and is fresh in the program and she is telling her story and I was stuck there in this spot identifying with her on many topics that she brought up.
It all came out in the laundry. I did some of the same things she did in early sobriety. Some of those things are not recommended, but for some it works out. Hopefully this is the last time for her to get sober, she might not make it back again. And wouldn’t that be terrible since she is marrying a member in just a few months time.
Oh well, we hopes and prays for them.
That was my day.
More to come, stay tuned…
The other night I had another “past” dream.
I was in my grandparents house on 160 East Street in New Britain Connecticut. I even went onto Google maps to see the house, and it isn’t there any more, I don’t know how recent the views were taken. It took me a while to find it because I had forgotten the address off the top of my head. But I did remember the name of the bar that was next door to where the house was. And that aided me in my search.
The Dairy store is still there and the package store and LaRosa’s Bar on East street. My grandparents house was right next door on an embankment with large trees in the front yard. Although there are no trees in the photo and there are two houses on the lot that (160) fits in between which must mean that the trees were cut down and the land razed – I remember that there were 2 trailer houses on the lot next door to the old house – and they are gone as well. Sad to see how things have changed over 40 years time.
It seems they paved the side parking lot farther across which would tell me that the land that the old house sits on was razed. I don’t recognize the house that is sitting in the spot where (160) used to sit. It is not my grandparents house. There are no trees – no garage – no gardens -no picture window out front – it has all been changed up.
So usually when I dream about my grandparents – I dream in black and white. When I go back in time, I only get a black and white picture, I cannot open any doors in the house nor can I walk around the house. I usually end up in one room and that is where the dream takes place. I’ve had several dreams like this where I visit the house.
This last dream about the house was in color. Unusual. I was able to move from room to room. And what was different about this dream was that there was a piano in the living room. And there were people there in the house and i was talking to a spirit. I called him “old man.” And I kept calling him and he would appear in the house and sit down at the piano and play in spirit form. And I could actually feel his energy as I stood there next to the piano. There was not enough room in the living room for a piano of any sort.
As of late, when I dream, I know I am dreaming and it feels like I am awake in my dream because I carry the dream out into waking hours and they stay with me a lot longer than usual.
The other dream that stayed with me from the other night was a ship dream. I was in Alaska, there was a lot of snow, (go figure) … I was in a wet suit factory. It was all very strange because I am not sure how they make wet suits. But alas, there I was.
Then I was floating out of there and I was flying over the ground to some place and ended up on some airplane flying to our final destination. We landed and got on a bus and traveled to a pier where there were two ships/boats/crafts waiting for us. One side of the bus was to embark on one vessel and the other side of the bus was to embark on the other. It was all very science oriented, if I had to picture the ships they would have resembled a Wind Star cruiser. They have a mono-hull and sail masts. But each of the vessels were science vessels and had nominal defense systems on them. I am not sure what we were doing there but I remember speaking to the people on the bus telling them where to go and to what vessel to report to, and that is when I woke up.
Oh well, I guess that’s all from me at the moment…
More to come, stay tuned…
For the second time in as many weeks I saw orbs on the balcony and in my bedroom. The other night I was lying in bed and out of the corner of my eye I saw red and orange orbs floating over the radio which sits on top of the book case in the corner of the bedroom. They swirled from the windows and disappeared up into the ceiling which caught me totally by surprise. I knew I saw them, and there was no way that red light could have come from anywhere outside since we are 17 stories up in the air.
Last night [Saturday] I was lying in bed, hubby was asleep and I was reading my book, and I looked towards the windows on the balcony and there again was an orb floating over by the window. It was red and floated around the room and disappeared into thin air. I don’t know where they are coming from or who is visiting us – but last night I got the feeling that we were not alone. I’m reading Paul Monette’s Borrowed Time, an Aids memoir. I could imagine that someone up there is watching over us.
We will see if they return again tonight. I just had to write this down.