Saturday, November 28, 2009

Non-coincidence #157...

So Thanksgiving was ok. Like I thought, it wasn't worse than any other day. (though Christmas may be another story) I was distracted, surrounded by wonderful people and fairly busy. It wasn't until I went to bed that night that the sadness hit me.

It's so weird...I'll be totally fine and all of a sudden I realize how much I miss them and that they're really not coming back and the pain is instantaneously overwhelming. So I started talking to them and telling them that I needed to hear from them.

I truly believe, as I've said many times, that they are in a better place. They're better off...we're the ones who have it rough. I believe this in my mind and my heart and my soul. Sometimes, however, it's hard to feel it. Especially when I feel sad.

The day after Thanksgiving (which would be yesterday) I told them I needed to know that they really are in a better place. I'm still their mother and I can't sleep at night if I'm worried about them. They still have to check in from time to time. I SO wish I could find a cell phone provider with interdimensional service.

Literally, within a few hours of my request an anonymous person posted this comment on my blog:

This is what I believe...

When you die, you don't die at all you just move on to another it heaven or whatever you'd like. It's calm, you're at peace, you're greeted by generations of family you've never known...but they've seen you grow up from that other place. You aren't scared, you're at peace. You're still here, in dreams, in thoughts, in memories, people never die...they just move on. It's always easier to leave than to be left behind...
As a child I've seen family members I've never even met in my dreams. My grandfather recently passed away, and I've seen him in my dreams as well...and he let me know that he is happy, healthy, and with family. Death is sad for those of us that are left behind, but those who move on are at peace. I know it to be true.

Pay attention to your dreams and your surroundings, they will let you know they're with you always! You just have to keep your head clear and an open mind... They want you to be happy, they're okay...

To whomever posted that: thank you! And I hope you don't mind that I reposted it. It was exactly what I needed to hear. I believe that my kids somehow prompted you to write that and I thank you for being open enough to give me the message. Kate and Peter, thank you for getting back to me.


  1. Hey. I'm another PittGirl reader and I just wanted to send you my best thoughts and prayers and love. Keep on keepin' on, Amy.

  2. Amy
    My thoughts were with you all day on Thanksgiving, and i wondered how you were. I'm glad you updated us, and i want you to know that you arent alone, and are an inspiration to all of us out here who struggle every day to be good moms in the face of the daily struggles of life. You are a reminder of what it means to be a good mother and its so evident in all of these posts how much you love your children, and what a great person you are, and how you will continue to touch the lives of everyone around you in some shape or form. My prayers and thoughts are with you. Hang in will be with those babies again and in the meantime, do whatever you need to, to find your path again..

  3. I visit your blog everyday. I want so badly to get a sense of how you are mamanging this tragedy. In a bizarre way, I check it to hear about your encounters with them. I almost think that I am checking this blog to one day see a post from you about how you found them and this was all a dream. I don't get it. I guess I read your blog to see if you can explain it. That may sound so damn selfish but I don't mean it to be. I am in awe of you. I will be honest with you and tell you that you have changed my life. My parenting life that is. Everytime I lose my patience with my own children, I think of you. I think of them. I think of how this time with our children is expiring minute by minute. And then 9 times out of 10 I react to my children better than I would have had not known that they might leave me before I leave them. I just wish that I had learned it somewhere another way.

  4. A good friend of mine passed away several years ago and there are times that I miss her more than I can express. It is during those times that I usually have a dream about her. When I wake up, I feel a little better and I truly believe that she's sending me comfort through my dreams.

  5. Amy,
    Your strength, your courage through this, even though you don't know it and probably alot of the time you don't feel so strong about it. What you are doing so very personally is sharing the muddling through something that is very scary, a nightmare, that is every parents worst nightmare. The whys? The what nows? How?
    We are all witness to what a parent goes through. That is important. It is important for you and you are making it important for others to witness that you are here, you words your questions, your feelings are amazingly candid, your children do exist and they will exist always. Not only to you, but to us. I wish it were different, I wish that no parent ever lived this nightmare, but you are. That brings me to the following, and you are right, you need to know your children are okay.

    When my father was dying, diagnosed terminally ill at a relatively young age, we had a discussion about life after death, and if it was possible would he please let me know if this truly existed? Was he okay where ever he was? Shortly thereafter my father passed and very soon thereafter I lost a very good friend in a tragic way.

    AFter the tragedy of losing my father and then my very good friend, and when I least expected, I was talking to my father out loud but I was alone, in hopes that where ever he was, he could hear me. I didn't know whether he could hear me, but we had made a deal, he would let me know.
    I can tell you this quite clearly, my father interrupted the conversation, not out loud, but stopped me, in my train of thought and conversation to him. To know my father he was a man of few words, a caring man who relished in the success of his children, his words carried so much wisdom, so much care and I longed to hear them. I needed to hear them. What he said when he interrupted was that he had to give the floor to my friend, to give the attention that I was requesting from him to my friend, who had died recently also, as she had to get an urgent message through.

    I must tell you, I was floored. She did get a message through, the message was important and I alerted her significant other of the message that she sent. I knew her well, but I did not know him as well and I did not know the significance of the message, only that she was adamant about getting it across, so much so, my father acquiesced to giving her the floor. I did not know how Her significant would receive me and/or this message that she sent to me, but he knew exactly what and why she sent it. I thought in my mind, this is crazy.

    The reason for me letting you know this? You asked, you worried about where they are. My father believed that because "energy" cannot be created nor destroyed, that life is energy, which it is, so you cannot destroy that energy,you cannot create it, it goes somewhere, it transforms, it has to, when we die. That is why I asked him to please let me know. He did and he has.

    I think someone else has posted, pay attention to the signs, they are there. They will come when you least expect them.

    We are reading, we are praying, I hope you don't mind sometimes that we are unaware of the rollercoaster of emotion and turmoil that may surround someone we see everyday. Your personal journey is raising that awareness.We all are trying to digest the most if not all of our own worst nightmares but possibilities. You make us realize that at any moment your journey could become ours. It is not that people don't know that, but totally different to be presented with it and choose to be there, reading as you move through this. It hurts, you hurt, we can't possibly feel your pain, but we know you are experiecing it. I am glad you are sharing it. I feel as though I got to know you, and know your children. What mother doesn't want people to know about their children? You are beautiful, they are beautiful and they are okay.

  6. You are loved and supported.

  7. Watch for the winter butterflies.

  8. Hi Amy. This is Pittgirl's sister...Ohio Sister. It was so great to meet you last night at Las Velas. I am happy that you came and even happier that I had a chance to meet you. You truly are an inspiration to all out there. You are such a brave and strong woman. Thank you for sharing a part of yourself with this blog. Please know that many are praying for you and thinking about you. I hope our paths cross again.

  9. I agree totally with anonymous who started the response with "I visit your blog everyday."

  10. You continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. You have an amazing strength and I'm sure your kids would be proud of you.

  11. Hi Amy,
    You don't know me, but my two nephews go to ECS and they were friends with Kate and Peter. I knew about their passing for a while... and my thoughts have been with you for a long time.

    Anyway, I just recently learned about your blog this thanksgiving and began reading it.
    I'm amazed at your strength to write about them, and your grief and loss and sadness. I am honestly awestruck. You are such a strong, strong woman and I'm sure everyone who has posted on your blog has told you this but I just want to say it too.
    My dad died Christmas and I know what loss feels like. I know what it feels like to wonder where we go after we die but not in a general way. In a very specific, personal way because you've lost someone and you want to know where they went. Because it seems so strange and impossible that you'll wake up the next morning and they won't be there...
    I know what it feels like to keep losing your thoughts in that dark place... to keep thinking about those images over and over and feeling like when you've finally stopped thinking them, that you're just running from it and it will come back soon.
    I know what it's like to be afraid that you'll forget their voice eventually. That might be the most terrifying part of it all.
    Your blog is really helping me work through my loss... thank you so much for that. When I read what you posted it helps me realize that spiritual connection more clearly with my dad, rather than dwell on grief.
    I relate... although our losses are different, we both lost very important people and a large part of ourselves.

    thank you so much, and never give up. I'll be here, reading your blog and supporting you just as you support me.

    p.s.--I hear you on the inter dimensional cell phone thing! sometimes I get a creepy feeling that i will get a call from my dad... it weirds me out. I used to have dreams where he'd call me and tell me he was doing fine...

    I'm more than sure that your kids are fine, too. I don't know if I believe in Heaven or any of that, but I'd bet that they're probably up here somewhere with my dad, hanging around.
    their troubles have long ended, now we just gotta get through ours.

    until we talk again,


  12. Amy...

    I learned of you through Ginny's site and got to meet you Saturday night @ LasVelas.. In fact, I joined you and your friends for dinner (I was by myself).

    May you always have the strength and faith needed to perservere such a tragic situation. You are very special. We're all on your side.. we're here to listen.. to help in any way we can. God Bless.

  13. what an absolutely beautiful comment. and so true to how i feel and what i have experienced as well. in high school i experienced a dream so vivid and real that i know it has to have been truly a glimpse of heaven. and yes, the family, abundant family members are there, all buoyant in a golden sea of light. it truly looked like water, but nobody is swimming, the waves of light just hold them afloat. they are all there, and here, and everywhere.
    that is what i believe because that is what my grandfather showed me.