Second attempt to find mom

 Today is the day to try talking to my mom again. I take a deep breath and try to imagine what it would be like if she was alive right now. What advice would she be able to give? What would she not know? What could she know if she wasn't walking on this earth anymore? 

Before my mom passed and after she has been diagnosed with terminal cancer with very little time to live, we were driving in the car and my mom turned to me and asked me: "Is there anything I can do for you after I die? I am not leaving you with very much." I thought for a moment and half jokingly I said, "Well can you let me know some winning lotto numbers? I don't really care if you give me the numbers or fix the lotto balls to match what I picked." She laughed and said "you got it, I can do that"

It is one of the only strong memories that I have of her during that time frame. There was a lot of stress and life happening and I feel like everything else just blurred together.

Since that time, I have not had mom show up easily and identifiably yet. My sister who talks to dead people has said that she cant identify mom and feels she is really far out in the ether's and cannot connect with her very well. This made me lose hope for a long time that I would ever feel my mom close to me after death. She was the only person I was ok with haunting me. I reached out to a friend that also talks to spirits and asked if my mom was indeed too far away to reach. My friend said she could feel my mom right away, it was just that she didn't maintain the physical form after death. So for people like me who look for the identifiable markers of recognizable traits to help identify who I am talking to there isn't much to go on.

I attempted to find her with the help of my great grandma Bertha. While I was able to feel her for a moment it was very brief and not very tangible. Not that I need to win the lottery, I don't even buy lotto tickets. I just want this or some simile of it to help heal me and the energy that mom left behind. 

I am asking Grandma Bertha to lead me to her again. today and see if I can get more help, comfort or anything that feels like it.

I get up off the couch and walk down the stairs in the kitchen. I open the heavy door at the bottom of the stairs  and step onto the train platform. The leaves are starting to show on the trees and there are still flower petals everywhere. The air is warm and there is natural light shining on the platform. I walk forward to the edge of the platform and stand there waiting for the train to arrive. I feel the rumble under my feet and whoosh! the train blows through the station. I reach out and step onto the train. I float along in the train for a moment until I step off the other side of the train. Grandma Bertha is waiting for me on the grass. 

"Hello my dear, it is good to see you." She continues to talk as we walk to the cabin. "How are you doing? It has been a week since we spoke. We had talked about checking in more regularly, my dear. It will help your focus." 

We get to the porch and I see Roger is sitting in a rocking chair. There are still two more chairs there. 

"Roger!" I exclaim. "I normally do not see you. What are you doing here?"

"Racquele I am here to see you and check in as well. You have not spoken to us all week. You had your Uncle die this week. we have felt the compartment being created."

I take a deep breath. "Yes he did."

"What day?" asked Roger. 

I thought for a moment as guilt started to rise up. "I think it was Wed night. April 20th"

"Did you provide yourself a safe place to sit and mourn?"

"No, I did not really do anything." 

"We will find time to sit in silence and be alone." Roger says. "Next weekend please plan a morning away from home. Today we are both going to walk with you to see if we can find your mom." 

We all stand up and walk down the steps of the cabin. We walk around the building, and start walking towards the apple orchard.

We step into the orchard and all of the blossoms light up. 

"She is here" says Grandma Bertha. 

We continue to walk deeper into the orchard. I look around at all the trees towering over me. All of the trees all lined up perfectly. 

I felt Roger grip my arm. 

"Here we stop" he says. 

I see a ball of white light start forming in front of me. Out of the white light a fight steps out. It is so bright I can barely see. "Hi Rachel"

I hear my moms voice and the figure in front of me waves. I can only see the dark hair, but cant see a face or a body. 

"Mom is that really you?"  I ask. It actually sounds like you."

"Well I am trying to find a way for you to recognize me until you get better at this. So I picked the voice. she starts to sing the "Casons Go Rolling Along" song. 

I laugh. "You always sang that song." 

"Yes, its hard because I let all of the ties go. except the ties to the people I loved while on earth. Hopefully I can hold onto the this sound for a while." 

As I listen to my mom talk I can hear the voice change in and out of sounding like mom.

"You have a question? that is why you are here. Right?"

"Well yes, and because I miss you, and do not feel connected to you at all." 

"You are getting closer to that. It takes time." The voice says.

"Ask her the questions my dear," I hear Grandma Bertha say with a little nudge of her elbow to my side.

"Ok, here are my questions if you can answer them great if not its ok. Are you able to help me win the lotto?"

"Are you buying the tickets yet?" The voice of mom asks.

"Not recently, but I will this week. Do I need to come here and get numbers? Will you just guide the balls to the numbers? Will this even work?"

"I will do what I can. I cannot manipulate the physical earth, so I will try to guide you to pick the correct numbers."

"I felt tiredness sweeping over my body. I look over at Roger. Should I lay down?" I ask.

"For a few moments sure," Roger says. "We will wait here until you awake."

(20 real minutes later after a short nap)

"Hi, I'm here now. I feel better. Thank you  everyone for waiting for me." 

I look around and see that Grandma Bertha, Roger and the bright light, with a figure in front of it, are all still standing right where they were when I left them.

"Mom, please help in any way you can. I need help navigating this financial area. I need to be able to lift us out of this financial cycle of barely making it. I need help. I need help moving past this depression. What do I do?" 

"Help me define the financial area Rachel. I'm sorry I'm struggling to keep my voice matching with my earth self."

"Ok, I want large amounts of money coming in monthly with little work/energy needed. I want to be able to work from anywhere so I can travel as I see fit. Help Michelle, help Ginnie, Help DeDe."

"Hmmm ok, I will review and let you know what I come up with."

"Are you taking vitamins? supplements?" The voice asks.

"No." I answer.

"Rachel you are not going to be your dad. It will help you take a step forward. It will not fix it." 

"How do I fix it?"

"Through a series of steps. Including coming here to talk things out with all of us." 

"Ok, How long will it take?" 

"If you start now by the end of summer you will feel like a whole different person."

"Ok can we go back to the whole financials Mom? You and dad left us with so little, we are struggling. Michelle is struggling. We don't want to be like you and dad were during the last 30 years of your life. How do we break this cycle? What do we do different? Can you help? Can dad help us?

What should I do?" 

"Well Rachel, you have a plan laid out. Do you not feel it will work? Is it too much?" 

"I don't know mom. I just need to spend my energy on something that will work. If that isn't it then I don't want to do it." 

"Its not really that though is it?" The voice asks. 

"I guess I have not been feeling motivated to work on them." 

"Well you have a lot going on, and you have not been feeling well mentally. I think we should not panic about the websites not working. We need to take time to get through a few other things at the same time. New job, mental health, lifestyle changes, and house remodel. We are doing  a little of each one. None of them are going to show great results instantly. let me sit with it for a little longer."

"I have run out of time tonight mom. I gotta go. I love you." 

I motion for Roger and Grandma Bertha to start walking back. I can see the ball of light fade to nothing. we walk all the way to the train and I come home. Climb the stairs and back to the couch.

The Mood

I get up from my chair in the kitchen and walk to the door leading down to the travel platform. I open the door and and take a deep breath in. I can smell the sweet smell of flowers and cut grass. I walk down the stairs to the heavy wooden door at the bottom of the stairs. I pull it open with a heave and step onto the cool platform. I haven't been here for  awhile. I look around and wonder why. I realize in that moment I haven't spoken to my soul in a long time. I close my eyes and try to clear my mind of my thoughts and fears. I want answers to questions I haven't thought of, I want to know, until the moment arrives and then I don't. I wistfully dream of a million different variations of my future, and don't know where to grasp onto.I want to know that life has more than what I am currently taking and creating. What do I want? and what does that look like? So many ways to reach the same....destination? Feeling? Apex? A collection of experiences? What am I dreaming? What am I reaching for? What is missing? Do I really want to travel with the kids everywhere? I want them to feel secure...and see the world...I want to not be tied to a corporation...Business? I want to work from home? Alone? everyday? So I can go crazy in my own head?

I could feel the wind blowing and leaves were floating trough the air around me... all of them have different images of the thoughts in my head. I look up and see more leaves falling and swirling around me. I stand there and let the thoughts fall around me. The leaves start to gather on the ground, with gusts of wind picking them back up again....I reach out my hand to see if I can catch any leaves...as if I want to control at least one of my thoughts. The leaves evade my grasp as they sway through the wind.

I start to think about everything I have now...the blessings, the feelings, the smiles, the laughter, the cuddles, the friendships, the family, the loneliness, the tiredness, the pressure, the regret, the fear, the searching, the wishing, the planning, the freedom, the constraint, the silence......

The leaves continue to fall with all of these recognizable images in them as they mix and mingle with the other leaves. I can feel the emotions of each thought as they fall to the ground. I lean over and pick up some of the leaves off the ground...some of them still have images, some have words carved in them. Expectations, fear, guilt. I pick up a few of the expectation leaves. I can't even see the images that were on them when they fell from my mind. I crumble the leaves as they turn to dust and fall to the ground. I bend over and pick up a few more leaves with words on them. Fear, guilt, regret. I cradle them in my hands before I crumble them into dust in my palms.

The leaves with happy current moments, and images of people, stayed close to my feet where they fell. I looked further around me...there were piles of leaves everywhere. I picked up a hand full of leaves and looked at the images that were on them. People I didn't recognize, places  I  haven't been. The futures emotions are not very different from the ones I feel now. The same words are carved in the future leaves, as they are in the current leaves.  I pick up another handful of leaves as the other pile drops from my hands and drifts to the floor. I look closely at the ones in my hands. I find one that has an image of me on it. I stare at the leaf for a few moments and let the leaf slip out of my hand and fall gracefully to the floor. I turn and walk away from everything and head back through the heavy door and up the stairs.

Freedom

I drop my keys on the desk. This is it, this moment has been a long time coming.

The last six months I have been working tirelessly on my websites. Everything feels so synchronistic. I checked my bank account this morning before I left work. I made more money last month than the previous six months combined. When I get to work my boss calls me into her office. The paper is sitting there. I already know that she is trying to discipline me for something unnecessary. She is rattling on about something, I'm not listening. My mind is calculating the things I will lose today. My heart is calculating what I will gain today. I had imagined I would do both jobs for a few years. I would create a secure, stable income from the websites first. Now I am standing here on the precipice of change, the brink of freedom.
I think about all of the tasks I am supposed to complete today. I think about the way people are going to react about my decision. I think about the people that are going to judge me, and the people that are going to feel like I am leaving them behind. I start to feel a twinge of doubt. My mind starts to convince me to pick the keys back up again.
I look at my boss, she has stopped talking, and is staring at me, waiting for me to respond to a question I did not hear. "I don't know" I answer, unsure if that will answer sufficiently. I start to feel panicked. I cant decide which way to go. My mind is screaming at me to make it work, to take my time, to plan it out. My heart is whispering at me to take the leap.
 I think to myself "jeez universe, help me out here". My phone dings. I turn the phone over and read the text. A call off for PM, another ding before I can even look away. A full time person just quit. My mind starts to wander to the schedule. Who is going to take of these people tonight? Who is going to find coverage? The phone dings again. Another call off. "OK universe, I get the message, no more call offs" I think to myself.
I look back at my boss, she is still rattling on about some report and how she is sure she told me about it.
I take a deep breath. I look at my phone. I delete the texts, I clear the call history, and I lock the phone. I set it on the table next to my keys.
She hands me the write up, mumbling the usual "please read and sign". I take it from her, and turn the paper over. I scribble my official statement noting that I quit, as of today. I know I am forfeiting my PTO. I don't care anymore. I turn to my boss, and hand her the paper.
"Good luck, you had two staff members call off tonight and two are quitting as of right now."
She stares at the paper as I turn and walk out the door.
As I step out into the sunshine, I finally realize what freedom felt like.

Just a Picture

As I step into the stairwell, I look around. This stairwell used to feel dark and somewhat foreboding. The walls were dark, just one light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and it smelled of old wood and varnish. I no longer fear the door at the bottom of the stair case. Now the walls are white, with bright flowers painted on them. Raindrop shaped lights are hung from the ceiling all the way down the stairs. The door is still heavy, but it has wooden gate with climbing flowers painted on it, so it feels like you are entering into a secret garden. I walk down the stairs and push the door open. I step onto the platform and let the door fall closed behind me.

I pause for a moment letting my thoughts fall around me. What do I want to know? What are my expectations? What is my brain telling me I should see? I watch my thoughts turn into pictures and float to ground around me, like leaves falling in autumn. My urge is to pick them back up and put them in my pocket. I look up at the blue freight train of energy, light and images zooming past me. I step towards the edge of the platform. I look back at the pictures laying on the floor. I take deep breath, I start to feel naked and lost without holding onto everything the pictures represent. Before I convince myself to go get them I reach my hand out and touch the blue freight train. I zoom along for a few minutes. I feel myself tumbling for a little while. I start to focus on where and when I want to go to. I want so badly to know where my pinnacle of success lies, internally. Where all the parts of my world feel fulfilled. Where my heart feels content, and I feel connected to my heart and my soul. I tumble along further and suddenly fall into an office.

I look around. There are big floor to ceiling windows along one whole wall, looking down over a city. There is a blue couch facing the window. There is a desk in the corner to my left. The walls have pictures hanging on them, but no photographs. there is a round wooden table in the right corner of the room. I look around at the table and desk. There are no calenders or newspapers to look at to see when  I travelled to. I look out the window, there is another tall building almost directly across from the window. I look to left and I can see smaller buildings as far as I can see. There are cars driving on the street. They look like regular cars from here, but I am at least 25 stories up. I look around the room again. along the back wall, opposite of the windows there is a door. I open the door and step into the hallway. there are cubicles to my left, that appear to all be empty. On my right are four elevators. I walk up to it and push the down button. The doors open. The elevator is empty. I step inside and look at the button panel. I click on floor one. As the elevator hums down the many levels, I wonder where time took me? What on Earth am I meant to see here? Where am I? The elevator doors open. The lobby is spacious and vacant. I walk to the doors leading outside. I pull the glass door open and step out onto the sidewalk. I stand there just letting everything soak in. The sun shining, the trees, the cars, the people walking past me. I look across the street, there is a small park area to the left. There is a woman sitting on the bench with a man. I walk down the sidewalk towards her, as  I get closer, I realize it is me. I cant actually tell how much older I am. I don't recognize the man, but we seem close. I don't seem to be able to get closer to her. My legs feel heavy. I look up in the sky. I hear a loud wind sound, I see the blue freight train of energy appear in the sky. It swoops towards me and scoops me up, for a brief second I am floating, then I see the platform and I am standing there again. All of my pictures are still laying on the floor. I watch them all turn to ash except one. What do I want to know? I pick up the picture and look at it. It is a picture of me and the man sitting on the park bench. I smile and put the picture in my pocket. I open the heavy door and head back up the stairs.

Reflection Question

It was a rainy evening in the city. It was the middle of October and the air had a crisp bite, as the rain fell softly. It was dusk, but the sky was dark with clouds, so it felt darker, and colder. I stood outside the restaurant door. People walking past me opening the door, coming and going. The air smelled good as it wafted out of the restaurant. I could feel the warm air of inside for a brief moment before the crisp October wind swept it away. I shivered in my coat, my shoulders hunched over as if it would keep me protected from the rain.

I was here to do an interview. My questions already jotted down on a piece of paper that I held clenched tightly in my fist, shoved in my coat pocket. I wanted to cancel the meeting. I was tired, cold and not really sure if I wanted to know the answers to my questions. I took another deep breath. My mind floated to my friend Rich. He had sent me a message letting me know the meeting had been set up. I didn't want to let him down. I knew he would want to ask about it, even if he didn't. I wanted to be able to tell him I went through with it.

I knew my interviewee was already inside the restaurant. Even though she acted carelessly most of the time, she was always worried about the judgment of being late, and not knowing how to get somewhere, where to park, what to say, where to sit.

I shook off the cold and opened the door to the restaurant. I stepped inside, and was greeted with warm air, the smell of bread, and a hint of old alcohol from the bar. I looked around at the tables to see if I could see anyone sitting alone. I spotted her towards the back of the room. She was of course facing the door. She was always paranoid, thinking people were following her, thinking she was seeing shadow figures, dead people, she thought most men were serial killers.

There I was 20 years younger sitting at the table waiting for me to arrive. My stomach turned, I could feel my heart racing, all of the sudden it felt really hot. I closed my eyes and took a step towards her. What the fuck is wrong with me!? The words echoed in my head. I am not going to let a damn 17 year old intimidate me. I pulled my shoulders back, and walked down to the table.

Hi, I said to my 17yo self. I guess I don't have to introduce myself. I chuckled uncomfortably as I sat down in the booth. I looked across the booth at my younger self. We sat there and stared at each other. Thoughts were zooming through my head. So many emotions. I felt anger rising in my throat as tears started to sting my eyes. She stared back at me, she had a startled look on her face. I could see the confusion in her eyes.

I took another deep breath, and pulled out my crinkled piece of paper from my coat pocket. I slowly uncurled it, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of it, then I unfolded it. I stared at the paper. It was blank. My questions were gone. I looked up at 17yo me. "Ummmm....ok, I guess I am just going to you whatever questions come up." I said to her. "Ok" she replied with a shrug. "Of course she doesn't care", I think to my self. My mind floats back to Rich, and the message he sent me...I wasn't supposed to think about the questions ..it was whatever came up first. If I am remembering it right.

I look up again at 17yo me.
 Why do you want to be a criminal profiler? what are you going to do if you fail? why cant you be more realistic with your goals? Why didn't you study more? Why do ruin my future? Why cant you be normal? Why cant you just leave men alone? Don't you know its a useless endeavor? Why do you think you will ever get married? Why are your expectations so ridiculous? Why cant you just plan for something more realistic? why do you have to be so grandiose? Why doesn't anyone love you? What are you doing wrong? Why cant you figure it out sooner? Why does it take you so long to to do anything?

I stopped for a moment to catch my breath.

"Do you have anything you want to say to me?" I asked.

"I'm sorry." She replied.
"Me too" I said. "I thought we were going to be so much more than what we are."
"Where do we go wrong?" she asked.
"I don't know, I guess life is planned differently than we expected it to." I said.
"I thought we were the makers of our own destiny?!" She replied.
I sighed, and looked down at my hands. I didn't really know what to tell her.
She asked "Wait...I don't get into the FBI?"
I shook my head. "No, we become a nurse."
Now 17yo me has tears welling up in her eyes. I can see the anger starting to flash through them. Her voice gets a little louder and her words become sharper. "This is your fault! You are future me, what the fuck did you do?! You ruined our dream? Why?"
I felt the hot sting of tears run down my cheeks, I had no answers for her. I stared down at the blank paper in front of me.
I look up at 17yo me. She got up from the table, and walked out the door.
At least my interview was finally over.

The Dreaded Ease of Discomfort

I sat down in front of the TV. Unsolved Mysteries was about to start. Every week Robert Stack would tell the world about another woman who was found dead in the woods, another child dragged from the park into a car, never to be seen again.
"This is it." I thought.
"I'm going to help find these killers."

"I am going to be a Criminal Profiler for the FBI." I announced to no one in particular.

I read every book I could find about serial killers, criminal profiling, I studied psychology, I bought a gun, I went on Ride-ALongs, I dated a guy whose uncle was a serial killer (and in prison). I trained, I ran, I did push-ups, sit-ups, I learned how to fight, how to break a neck, an arm, whatever I needed to.

I was ready.

Next step college. My gateway to freedom, my path to my dream. My downfall.

The first class I took, I failed. Doubt crept in like a thick fog, and settled in to stay.

I took another class, I passed. I took a few more. Time marched on faster than my expectations.

The weight of life pushed down on me. My gateway to freedom started to look like a dark abyss out in front of me.

I looked over and Fear was standing next to me.
"How long have you been standing there?" I asked.
"Long enough" Fear replied.

I am not meant to be an FBI agent, I am not smart enough, fast enough, educated enough. I dont have the right tools, right mindset, right degree.

Fear stood there with a boombox on his shoulder and played this on repeat. It echoed through the fog of doubt, and amplified the dark abyss.

I stood at the crossroads of FBI and anything else. My heart hurt, my soul ached. I took a step towards anything else. I picked up my backpack of Dread. It was almost to heavy to bear. I looked down at my feet. One slow step at a time. Five hundred steps, a thousand.

As I walked through life, life continued to happen. I look behind me as I walk. Fear is next to me, the fog of doubt surrounds me if I pause for too long, the backpack of Dread is heavy. Around my ankles I now have tied to me Regret and Guilt. I dont even remember when they latched on to me. But we have been walking together for many, many miles now.

I am tired. I tell Fear to go away. I yell at him.  I try to run. Dread is too heavy. I try to put the backpack down, but when I stop moving, the fog of Doubt envelopes me. I cant see. All I can hear is Fears boombox on repeat. I start walking again. The comfort of the rhythm. Guilt and Regret dragging along. Fears sounds start to sound normal. The fog becomes comforting like a blanket, and the backpack makes me feel grounded.

Time continues to march on. My expectations lay shattered like glass all around me. I just keep walking.

Alone

How do I say this? I just want to explain this moment of clarity I have. I remember being alone many times during my childhood. I realize now that the first times I was left alone were when my sister went to kindergarten (I was 2) and my mom was.....writing? Still working?.......Not home. I realize now that I correlated being alone with them being together. .....As I got older my sister (no longer in public school) chose to not want to be around me and my mom was.....writing?....Still working?.......Not home. We were home schooled so there's that. I continued to be alone a lot. As I entered puberty and my teenage years I might well have been an alien. My sister was coveted for her strengths and quirky traits. I was normal and left alone. I forged my own path separate and alone from my family. They didn't really notice. Then my sister had a meltdown ...wreaked havoc on my parents and left....leaving a huge mess for me to clean up. I worked diligently to fill the void my sister left behind...trying to build a bond that would not be broken if she returned one day. I grew close to my mom for the first time in my life. 15 years goes by and my sister decides to return into our lives. I feel the bond between them growing and mine shrinking. They are my biggest fans yet I feel suffocated by them. Them as a team. I feel the empty lonely ache return. I reach out to them trying to find proof that I wont be left alone again. Both of their words of wisdom are that I will indeed be alone. for many years. I have many issues, many obstacles to overcome. Many trials to face before I can feel the victorious feeling of having a loving partner. I believe them and feel the weight push me down further. I move to a new town and now my only sounding boards, my only friends, my only fans are the ones that make me feel like I cant breathe. No where to speak my me. Nowhere to post words that might accidentally be turned the wrong way. I realize now they are not the makers of happiness or loneliness. Nor are either of them allowed to judge what I need and don't need. Little do they know...I am not broken, I am not lost, I am not weak, I am not searching for happiness. I have strength, integrity, power, wisdom, honesty, faith, prosperity, happiness, and now I have reclaimed my power over loneliness. I can say that watching the relationship between them blossom has been somewhat painful. I am again lost in background noise. The part that I lost track of though is that the path they follow of traumas, inner turmoil, financial discord, hard lessons learned....is not my path. I have worked hard to have financial security and success. It is not better, just different. I wanted so badly to share my path with someone; that I latched back onto each of them in hopes of finding some strength and security, and like mindedness; that I forgot how different our paths have always been. I forgive my mom for any moments she left me alone and I hold no anger towards either of them for our paths differences. I will say this: being self sufficient, independent, and able to be alone, does not mean I need to be alone or that I deserve to be alone.