Choosing To Honor Life and Death

 

I saw purple peeking out from my neighbors’ flower bed and had to go check it out. I found a small bunch of gorgeous pasque flowers worshipping the sun. This one was my favorite; isn’t she stunning?

 

For those of you not in the Midwest, let me explain what a miracle this is. Never in my life do I remember trees budding, grass greening and flowers in full bloom this early in the spring. First of all, we had no snow in March for the first time in 150+ years. We usually get at least one huge snow storm in mid- to late- March. But we got nothing. Nada.

 

Instead, we got warm, beautiful sunshine. Day after day. I mean, my kids have been wearing shorts for the past week! And, to top it all off, flowers like this are blooming all over the city. Daffodils! Tulips! Apple blossoms! It’s like being a kid who’s been counting the days until Christmas, and then being told it’s arrived way early! Imagine the excitement! Every day lately, I wake up, look out the window and truly tingle with delight from my head to my toes at the sight of spring in full bloom. Every extra day of spring we’re getting is such a glorious gift. I hope every single day – wherever you are – feels just as rich and wonderful.

 

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Note: After I wrote the post above, I went to add the headline and realized it’s April 6th, the anniversary of my grandpa’s passing 22 years ago. I hadn’t thought about the date last night, when I strongly felt his presence as I rocked my toddler to sleep. I felt him there so strongly that I kept straining my eyes in the dark, wondering if I might just see him standing there. I’m sure it sounds unusual or spooky to some, but I know my grandpa’s been with me all these 22 years. Though we only shared a short time on this earth together, I always felt like our souls matched. Sometimes I still feel him nearby, sometimes I smell the scent of his cologne in an empty room, sometimes a song comes on the radio that I just know he orchestrated. Before he died of cancer, I asked if he would be my guardian angel. He agreed and now, I suspect he still feels obligated to pop in from time to time. Every time he does, it is such a comfort.

 

My toddler still says very few words, but adores the song Baa Baa Black Sheep. I usually sing songs to him as I rock him to sleep, but tonight – while I felt my grandpa’s soothing presence in the nursery – my little guy decided to serenade me. His little baby voice just kept singing “baa baa baa baa” – piercing through the night air in perfect pitch. It struck me that kept singing the same word over and over – baa baa baa baa – with no attempt at other sounds. For that’s exactly what I called my grandpa: Baba. To me, it was like a little symbol of validation that he was, and always is, just a sweet breath away.
Liv Lane

Liv Lane

As an intuitive adviser, author & teacher, I help brave-hearted women illuminate their paths to purpose through powerful classes, individual readings, workshops and writings. This blog, started in 2006, chronicles my journey and offers light for yours. Thrilled you're here!
Liv Lane