I Got a Hug Last Night

I was in a dream. It wasn’t terribly memorable, or significant. There were dreamy things coming and going like they do, and my mind just going along for the ride. A lot was happening, as dreams can do, and it is hard for me to put into words just how I got there.

There was a friend of a neighbor visiting me with two girls. They were looking to borrow some cups for the girls, and I was showing them the shelf they were on and going through the several different ones they could choose from (none of which I actually own in the awake realm).

There was a change of scenery. There was a delivery of some sort of jarred goods from the neighbor’s friend. Two boxes, one came with broken jars. I was trying to stop her from leaving so I could tell her about the broken jars, and as in dreams, it became impossible to get her attention. I think I tried following her, and then I was gliding through thoughts most randomly and quickly. Too quickly to pinpoint the moment it occurred to me…

“Why can’t people just be happy?” I heard in the ether. A conversation I’m sure I’ve had in the past with my father.

My father who passed from this realm last October. Then it dawned on me, much like it does every day, that he is gone. That these conversations that were so very good to have with him won’t be happening anymore. “But I have an answer now,” I thought, perhaps out loud. “Because they are stifled. Their emotions are so suppressed, they don’t know how to be anything, let alone happy.”

There was no response, of course. The sadness that creeps up on me every day came upon me, and even though I was in the dream realm, and not sure exactly where I was, I tried to stifle it. My eyes started tearing, and I tried to push them down. This is an old habit, and apparently one that my dream self was most comfortable with. I was still looking for the woman who’d delivered the jars so I could tell her, but the dream realm had other plans.

I’ve been having a lot of what I call, “busy dreams,” lately, where I try to complete a task, but 1,000 other things happen that get in my way. I usually have these when my body is tense and my mind is busy. Thankfully, I forget them shortly upon waking. But it is a wake up call for me to get some rest for both body and mind.

So, as I was stifling tears, and looking for this woman, I found myself in a place. I find it hard to describe, other than it was open, and felt like a combination of a bar and an athletic department in a school (and no, not a sports bar). There were two large rooms with a large opening between them. As I stood there wondering where I was and where to look for this woman, an old family friend walked up to me. She was wearing an oversized green wind breaker with some college team’s logo on it in white, and holding a blue key lanyard. “Carol!” I exclaimed, surprised and somewhat happy to see her. “Hi there,” she said as we paused and moved awkwardly into a stiff hug. “Have you seen Anthony?”

“Anthony? No, I haven’t seen him in years, a very long time.” I don’t know who Anthony is. In my mind, she was referring to her husband, who’s name is not Anthony that I know of.

She kind of wandered off, I assumed to keep looking.

I felt comfortable in this space, whatever it was. People were coming and going, not much interaction, but it felt like a good vibe. Now that I think about it with my awake brain, it felt like some sort of terminal, but I wasn’t aware of any type of transportation.

I went to walk into the second room. As I rounded the opening, I almost walked right into him; my dad. There he was bold as life, looking amazing and happy. So very happy. He wore a white, short-sleeved, button down shirt with thin green criss-crossed weaved lines through it. Khaki slacks and carrying wallpaper books by their roped handles. His face was glowing and smiling. So happy.

     

(Trying to capture the energy he had. These pictures come close. His smile was just like these.)

My surprise was overwhelming and also happy. We looked at each other, acknowledging each other and instantly hugged. Suddenly I knew. This wasn’t a dream. This was a visit. Thinking about him brought him to me, or me to him. In the moments of hugging, I said, “I miss you!” He hugged me tighter. It was wonderful. There was so much happiness. My uncle, his younger brother, who is still in this realm, was in the background, like he was just waiting to see if I needed him, or maybe waiting his turn to visit. Stoic and loving. My Dad didn’t reply. There were no words exchanged after my exclamation, and then I woke up just before the alarm went on.

This wasn’t the first visit I’ve had with my dad since he left this realm. He has been in my dreams a few times now. But it was very different. You see, when he left this realm, he was quite out of his mind. He was not aware of reality at all. He had suffered a stroke six years prior, and since that time, dementia had taken hold of him, and deteriorated his brain slowly and painfully. It was very hard for all of us who love him to watch. Especially my mother, who became his main caretaker. It was her full (very full) time job. I’m sure it was horrifying for him to actually go through, sometimes knowing his brain wasn’t right, and not knowing what he could do about it.

    

I was in the hospital when he passed. Not in the room, but there shortly after with my mom and younger brother. I knew he had gone, but also that he was going to need time before I heard from/saw him again. I knew I would, because I have seen others who have passed in my dream state. They are different from dreams, I know this from these past visits. I knew I would have to be patient and give him time to understand what had happened. I knew he would be reconnected to his full self, and it would take time to process all that occurred these last six years. I also knew that time is a man made concept, and energetic time is completely different, and that my dad has always been open to other realms and other worldly ideas. So, really, I had no idea when I might hear from him, but I knew I had to have patience.

Pazienza.

I’ve had a few “visits” from him in my dream state. They weren’t exactly how I’ve had other visits. Perhaps it’s because I wasn’t as patient as I should be, and just really wanted to see him. The first couple he was there, in a bunch of people, family and others I didn’t know, but he was in the background, not speaking, not interacting with anyone. I took these like an update on how his healing was going. I appreciated them, even though they were minimal.

Pazienza.

Then there was one where I ran into him and went to hug him, and he put his hand out to shake my hand, and said, “Well I think we should get to know each other first!” I knew this wasn’t the time, but he was starting to acclimate to his surroundings.

Pazienza.

Ever see the movie What Dreams May Come with Robin Williams? When I saw that movie many years ago, I was blown away. I had recently lost a dear friend, and was trying to figure out how to mourn. I was a mess. I dove into this movie full force, getting the book and reading it twice or more. Crying. Crying. Crying. Trying to understand death and all it means. Gosh, I was young then (in my twenties). There is a scene in that movie where Robin’s character first gets to his version of heaven. He learns to manipulate his world, and makes it beautiful. My Dad always loved that scene, and I knew that’s what he was learning to do. Painting his world just how he would love it.

Pazienza.

It paid off. The waiting. The grief. The feeling of loss. I can’t help when my defensive mind goes to sleep, and my desires go out into the dream realm. And there he was. Recognizing me and all. The hug was just as real as anything in this realm.

When he passed, all I could think of was, “He’s gone.” In fact, that’s what I texted my family to let them know. That’s all I felt. That’s all I knew. He’s gone. Even though I knew it wasn’t permanent, I felt the incredible absence.

This morning when I woke up, all I could think of was, “He’s back!” (HP reference, but in a much more positive way!) So yeah, he’s back, and it makes my heart and soul happy once more. I know there will still be more time with him, even if it is in my dream state. And maybe there will be great conversations to be had after all. 💕

 

Spiced Apple Upside Down Cake

If you are in the mood to taste this dark & spicy season, this is the recipe!

Apple Topping

3 (2 large) apples of your choice

1 tsp cinnamon

1-2 dashes of:
Clove              Cardamom
Nutmeg                Ginger *

3 tbsp butter

1/4 cup brown sugar (I prefer dark brown)

3 tbsp maple syrup

Mix all ingredients except butter. When combined place into well greased and parchment papered cake pan. (I placed a circle of parchment paper in the bottom of the pan, greasing on both sides of the paper and the rest of the pan. Cut butter into small pieces and dot across the Apple mix. Set aside.

Cake Mixture

2 cups flour of choice (I used 1 cup oat flour, 1 cup gluten free flour mix)

2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp clove

1/4 tsp cardamom

1/4 tsp ginger *

2 dashes nutmeg

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

6 tbsp butter

1 egg

1/4 cup milk (regular, almond, or your choice)

1/4 cup apple cider

1/4 cup maple syrup

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 almond extract

Blend first 7 ingredients together. Cut in butter like for pie crust. In another bowl, combine rest of ingredients. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients. Mix until just combined. Pour over apples in cake pan. Bake at 375 degrees for 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Let sit for 5-10 minutes. Turn out on plate and remove parchment paper. Enjoy!

* For any of the spices, you can substitute essential oil equivalent. I used one drop of ginger oil in both the apples and the cake mixture instead of ground ginger.

Three Sisters/Two Generations/Countless Lifetimes

When I was small, I wished for a little sister. I had two brothers and a family dog, and I felt left out. I felt like I had lost someone in my life, and was sad that they were not here with me. I used to tell my parents I wanted a sister.

"The boys have each other, you two have each other, and all I have is the dog!" I would complain. (Sorry for all you dog lovers out there, but she was not my dog, she was there when I arrived. For the record, she was the best dog I've ever known.)

Very lucky for me, my parents did decide to have another child. By luck or by fate, they had a girl. They gave me my sister.

I was thrilled to find out on the day she was born that she was a girl. I remember it well, because I was actually sick that day with a stomach flu. I had to go to school anyway, as my parents didn't know what else to do with me! My mom had to go to the hospital!

My teacher knew the circumstances, and these were the days where there was less protocol, and more common sense. She let me rest whenever I needed, and told me I only had to do the work if I felt I could. I made it through the day and went off to the babysitter's house.
I was sleeping when my dad called to tell me I had a baby sister. He knew I would be so excited. I remember hearing the one sided phone conversation, but my sleep kept me from reacting. Until my babysitter patted my shoulder and said, "Deedee. You have a baby sister."

I smiled, feeling so excited that she was finally here, and went back to sleep.

To any outsider watching my reaction, they probably would have thought I didn't care much at all. Inside, I was elated. I loved her already, and we hadn't even met. She was the sister I always wanted.

I thought I was complete. Our family of 6 felt perfect. Two boys, two girls, and two parents. Of course, it wasn't always smooth and cheery. We had our times of arguing, and strife. But I always felt that my baby sister was here for me (even when she did what she wanted to do, instead of what I wanted her to do).

As I became an adult, I came to realize that she wasn't here for me exactly, of course, but we definitely were put here together on purpose. We have a connection much deeper than this life, for certain.

I thought the two of us were it, forever. No matter who else we ended up with, or where life might take us, we would always be a pair.

I was wrong.

Another thing I knew at a very young age, was that I wanted to have children some day. I knew this at the core of my soul, and I knew it would happen some day. My young adult self thought I had control over when it happened, and I guess to some degree, that's true. But when I think back on it with what I know now, I really didn't have a say in it at all.

I feel that what happens is agreed on ahead of time, and we stumble through this realm into the path we were meant to have (be it good, bad or ugly).

What I didn't realize is that perhaps I was still waiting for someone to arrive. Perhaps our sister pair was not quite the complete picture I thought it was.

My first pregnancy was ultra planned. I kept track of everything, as best as a Virgo can, and thought everything was perfect.
Do you think you're having a boy or a girl? Everyone loved to ask me that question.
How should I know? I've never been pregnant before, and I don't know what they feel like at all! Be it a girl or boy, I didn't care.

We went to my first ultrasound eager and excited. Soon to be grandparents joined us. The technician asked me several times if we wanted to know the sex. Yes! Who wants to wait any longer? (Several people, come to find out, like to wait until the baby is born. I couldn't wait another second.) As she was asking me if I was sure, I saw it all on screen. I looked at a picture of inside my belly to see inside my baby's belly, and saw... ovaries. There they were plain as day.
"Say it. Say it. It's a girl." I said in my head over and over. Apparently this woman wanted to be really sure I was sure. Then she told us we were having a girl, and that she looked good and everything was in its right place and right time.
Joy!
Every day from that time on was joyous.
When she was born, I woke up to every day feeling like Christmas for me. What will today bring? What will she do? What will she look like? What will I be able to show her? Every day for her first year held this bliss. (Aside from a lack of sleep, and trying to get myself back to work, and also building our own house all at that time.)

The parenting role happens so quickly, so tightly, so finite, I hardly noticed it being a role. Taking care of our children just became part of my life every day.
I became so-and-so's mom quickly, and it felt nice.
The years sometimes feel like they roll by like film in an old projector. It's quick, and there is a lot to see, with a definite story, not sure if you like it all or not, but then, next thing you know, 20 years have gone by. Yes, 20.

Conversations with my children have gone from me teaching and giving advice to them, to us discussing life and giving each other advice. It's freaking fabulous.

My daughter tells me I'm her best friend. When she first started telling me that, I thought, "How cute. She'll find someone she likes better some day. This won't last long."

She's 20, and she still tells me that. After many years of this, it dawned on me that she too is my best friend. When did that happen? Oh yeah, when life rolled by on the projector.
What do you know? I have two women in my life that are my best friends!

I had no idea that I'd been waiting for another sister to come into my life, and here she was! I feel so tied to these ladies, words cannot do justice to the bond I feel. There is definitely some past lives shared together here. There is a lot of love, caring, compassion. Even though we may have different titles here in this life, to me, we are always the three sisters.

Happy Poetry Day! ~ Springing

Soft fuzz forms on the tips of blooms to come.

They plump with anticipation.

Birds soar the sky for the first time in months.

Pointing their way to their Northern destinations.

The white landscape turns to caramel under the closer heat.

Hills transform into mounds of sugary sweetness.

Sweet water runs from the maples

Sharing their golden splendor with us.

Seeds itch.

Ground softens.

Bodies transform.

Sun shines.

We are springing.

I Don't Care If a Gay Club Got Shot Up

Like the title says, I don't care that a gay club got shot up.

What?! How could I say that?!

Because it's horrific regardless of the sexual preference of the people in the club.

I don't care if the shooter had "issues" for years before this.

I'm sick of hearing about how these ultra violent psychopaths had "issues".

OBVIOUSLY!!!

But did ANYONE do ANYTHING about them???

NO

We wait until something tragic, horrible, unimaginable happens. Then we look at the killer's life with sadness and anger in our hearts.

We criticize everything about that person's life. We wonder, "Why didn't someone know before this?" Or, "Why didn't someone help this person, or put this person away before they went crazy?"

I don't care about gun control.

It's completely politically incorrect to say that, and I don't care. I'm sick of political agendas being attached to human tragedies and having those tragedies exploited for political gain.

Killing people is a tragic thing. Mass killings under any religion, terrorist group, radical beliefs, political views, or any other reason you can think of is wrong. Killing is horrible. To take a life away from this earth before it was ready is not anyone's business to do.

What about killing for a cause? Aren't there wars that have killed hundreds of thousands of people in the name of freedom, or power, or promises?

Yes, and they're wrong. All killing is wrong. It's unfortunate that we, as a human race seem to drive ourselves to it time and time again. It is the extreme we go to to prove a point. A point that we lose sight of when the killing starts.

Then it simply becomes kill or be killed. Protect yourselves and your loved ones, or surrender your weapons to a government so they will "protect" you. (Not really a fan of that last.)

So, where does this leave us as the human race? What are we doing here? Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?

Peace and love, and peace and love. We preach it, but do we practice it?

Do we love each other every single day?

Do we love the psychopaths before they commit mass murder?

Do we love the radical terrorists after they suicide bomb?

Do we love the "crazy" neighbor down the street.

Do we teach our children to love the misfit in the classroom, on the playground, on the bus? Do we love the misfit?

Because we need to. We need to love all of them as much as we love ourselves and our loved ones.

Maybe therein lies the problem...

Do we love ourselves???

If we did, I'm pretty sure we couldn't take another life, no matter the sex, race, religion, sexual preference of another.

When we start to teach our children to love themselves and to treat others as they would want to be treated (oh, is my Catholic showing? #sorrynotsorry), perhaps then we can spread the love to those who are in true need.

I do care that there was so much senseless violence over the weekend, and continues every single day in every part of the world. I pray for peace and love every day, and strength to help others in need.

Amen.

Brain to Books Sister Team Blog Tour: The First by A. Claire Everward

Today I get to post twice! Such an amazing time celebrating books, books, books!

So, to go along with our two-for-one, let's meet a duo who together have published a terrific looking novel! Not only that, but they are sisters to boot!

I am so excited to be one of the first to see the cover, and hear all about it! So it is such a thrill to be able to present it to you!

Let's meet these terrific gals!

With one sister a debuting author and the other a debuting publisher, how can it go wrong?

A. Claire Everward

Kate Anne Everward

“Forever Looking Forward”. That’s their motto. And that was what they were thinking when they decided to drop everything and just do it.

Once upon a time a sister told her sister that her imagination is going wild, that she has so much to say and stories chasing through her head (don’t worry, no voices) and that escaping into that endless world of imagination makes everything (well almost everything…) tolerable. So the sister sighed indulgently and told her sister, you want to write, write. We’ll publish. People love to read.

Anna Claire Everward is now an author with already two book series on their way. And her sister? Kate Anne Everward became her publisher and PR agent. That’s how Author & Sister was born.

Ready for the book yet?

Let's see what it's all about!

The First

A debut novel by A. Claire Everward

Find Her.

Is the ancient directive that has once again reawakened in the hearts of those who hide.

Kill Her!

Is the frantic command of those who fear their rise.

Aelia returns from a vacation that did not go quite as she expected, to a life she does not quite feel at home in but that is, at least, hers. Or so she thinks. Within days of returning she is targeted by a hit man and she has no idea why.

But then neither does he. All Kyle Rhys knows is that to protect humanity, this woman must die. At least, he thinks, killing her will be easy. After all, the organization that has raised him has prepared him for her death his entire life.

So why can’t he kill her?

What? Whaaaat? Need to know more?!

Is this cover gorgeous, or what?

Let's meet this fabulous new author!!

A. Claire Everward takes the world far too seriously. Passionate and sensitive to her surroundings, she takes it all to heart, sometimes too much so. but it makes her fight for what she believes in. She is direct, although she tries not to be, at least not always. Like every artist she has her quirks, some understand them and some don’t. She prefers to keep to herself and spend time with her characters, and for her escaping into writing is always the best refuge. She would say it maintains her sanity but her sister Kate says that sanity does tend to be overrated.

Claire spent years away from home getting an undergraduate degree in aerospace engineering and a graduate degree from the same faculty, with a risk management specialty. During that time she lived in the university, surrounded by forested hills and too much silence, and so to keep away the boredom she also took on an MBA, and now she feels ridiculously over-educated.

She tried to work in her field, she really did, and even put her education to good use in the finance field for a while. But eventually her love for writing took over, and she decided to leave it all and move to the world of her imagination. Her characters had a lot to do with that—they had lived in her mind, waiting patiently for her to be ready, for too long, they felt, and so they finally decided enough is enough and took over. And Claire didn’t put up that much of a resistance. She has always loved to read, but writing, that’s a whole new world she soon knew she could never give up.

She lives with her two cats, a brown tabby named Mary Boleyn who is much smarter than her and who likes to take over her laptop exactly when she wants to write, otherwise she starts throwing all kinds of stuff off the desk, and a black cat named Henry VIII who loves to jump on top of the kitchen cabinets and scream at the ceiling. Especially at five in the morning.

Nowadays, when she’s not rudely peeping into the lives of her characters, or having in-depth conversations with them, which she does tend to do quite often, Claire actually manages to do some writing. The First is only the first of her novels. With a sequel on its way and a whole new series to follow, Claire is turning her dream to be an author, a reality.

The second half of this incredible duo!

After ten years working as a PR expert specializing in crisis and reputation management, voicing other people’s thoughts and needs and making sure they got what they want, Kate knew it’s time for a change. She’d always been a dreamer, a bookworm who escaped to her imagination when things got tough, and when her sister, another bookworm (they got it from their bookworm mother) came to her and told her she wanted to be a writer, and already had stories and books to show her, Kate decided to help her dream come true.

And so from crisis manager she became a book publisher/marketer/literary PR agent. Her career had taught her how to fight for what she believes in, and she was tenacious to begin with, and now she’s using it all. While her sister writes, Kate is learning everything she can about the traditional and self-publishing world, and is talking to anyone, anywhere out there. She and her sister Claire have now created Author & Sister, so they can publish Claire’s books and tell the world their story.

Kate lives with her laptop (Yogi) and her 10 kg gorgeous red-haired cat who never sleeps. At least not when she wants him to. She is now starting to voice her thoughts, dreams and truths in her and her sister’s blog and is even considering writing a story of her own.

Want to stalk? Here's where to go!

Author website

Publisher Website

Author on Facebook

Publisher on Facebook

Twitter and Instagram @authorandsister

Goodreads

While you're in the mood to stalk, I can't say goodbye without a self plug.  ;)

Feel free to check out my website for Sigrun, the Bandamann Saga!

Have a wonderful weekend, and have fun at the book fair!