I'm Still Here

I thought when I first started “Dumpster Diving” that this would be easy. Just write. Write the process of dealing with, watching my mom, experiencing Alzheimer’s, again. Seeing the disease in my grandmothers, close up and personally, as I helped care for them as they transitioned out of this lifetime.

I’m miles away from my mother as she copes and lives her life, her stages.

I had no idea the words would be so difficult. They’ve always been easy for me to find. Words have always been a magic carpet that floats gently beside me and all I have to do is reach out and hold on and they flow through. I just ride the ride. But as time goes on, I realize my mother is ok. I know she has her moments of fear, moments of tears and confusion. But she’s ok.

I’m the one who is feeling the ravishes of this disease. The fear of not knowing what lies ahead, selfishly inside my own life. The stuffing down of emotions of feeling left alone when I wasn't ready to be left alone. Feeling small again. Childlike and weakened because the shadow of my mother's image seems just that ... a shadow.

I’ve spent years and years trying to heal myself from the inside out. Similarly to my mother’s journey. Chronic pain leads to answers in alternative therapies and crossing paths with healers who aid as a bridge into a pathway strewn with self-motivation, self-reflection, self-searching, self-discovery intertwined with Divinity reaching down to bless and to guide and to sustain.

But all it takes is a single “set back”, a minor car accident, that sets an intricately arranged pattern of dominoes into a falling down motion that leaves me feeling like I’m at the very bottom again, trying to pick up pieces. Line them back up one tiny blackened piece at a time. Set them up slightly differently this time. Rearrange. New design. But a task that once again seems like a “task”, a burdened job of picking up pieces and beginning again. And under it all, I feel once again the nagging sensation of complete and utter loss. A separation that seems it will swallow me up and go on forever.

I just want my mom.

I want her safety. Her comfort. Her arms wrapped around me, reassuring me everything is all right. Miles away. Neurons away.

So I search inside myself for that one thread still strong enough to bind me to my positive attitude. The thread attached to me from heaven that winds itself through me and into those around me who assist in fixing body, mind and soul.

My most recent visit into the healing realm invited me to journal after the experience. Again. The words have escaped me. Until today. I heard the swoosh of the magic carpet fluttering.

A Letter To Myself, From Myself and From My Mother's Voice Within

Mother: Once again, child, arise. And stay the course.

Me: I know what’s being said: trust, surrender, relax, feel safe. Supported. Loved. Guided and directed. My logical mind gets it. But my little child heart continues to be scared.

Mother: Let go. Completely let go. Walk through the valleys, head held high with confidence knowing “all is well” and “all is Divine”. Spend time each day working on YOU. Hands on heart. Work on One, and you work on ALL. Shed all that doesn’t serve the Inner Happiness, Inner Peace. TRUST.

This is all so temporary and is leading you to deep, rich understanding – a deeper empathic knowledge so others will be bridged into ME (the universal energy, God, Jesus consciousness). One step at a time.

Go the speed limit – for your own protection and safety. Go MY speed posted, NOT the speed of despair, desperation, sorrow, depression, heavy-heartedness, hurt and fear. Go the speed limit of LOVE. I’ll have the signs posted for you. Just see them.

Keep trying to raise your frequency into where FEAR is just fear, a lower level…. But LOVE is KING and resides higher than clouds.

Keep changing the dial until all your cells follow. It takes time, it takes healing of other sounds; the frequencies absorbed environmentally, past life noises, echoes and traces left behind or coming forward – all trying to drown out your natural order, your Divine Righteousness.

Me: Thank you for my path. For my journey. From poverty to abundance, from abundance to poverty back to abundance. Each time gaining. Each time growing and stretching me further and closer all at the same time. I’m trying to climb, but Mother, I need your help. I know it’s there, but I’m asking for specific help. I question whether I still hear your voice whispering. At times I have no doubt, I hear. But sometimes my compass needle gets caught spinning wildly in circles. And keeps spinning. I need you to pull with more clarity your magnetic field so the needle knows. So it stops twirling and shows the clear way to go.

I’ve once again had a reoccurring dream, one that terrified me as a child. Walls were falling down in huge chunks, people were screaming wildly and out of control, the ground was opening up and swallowing those who chose to frantically run. I heard you say “stay still, stay calm”. And in that moment all became quiet inside and everything around me was just motion waves. Peace kept me safe.

There’s a moral story that says once you aim for the target, you must pull back the arrow, then release it to find its mark. If you try to hold onto it, there’s no way it can fly and end up where it’s supposed to. I’m trying. Trying to let go of the arrow so it can go where it is sent. It's so hard for me to let go of that arrow and not try to force its direction, speed and force.

Mother: Talitha, Cumi. (Damsel, arise/stand.) And keep rising. Keep standing tall.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U8TsAh-zYFI