Every year I find the weeks leading up to Christmas a bittersweet time, so I decided to share my thoughts to explain why I feel this way. I find writing cathartic.
Since my grandson will be turning three years old in a few more months, Christmas is definitely “sweet” when I look at the holiday season through his eyes. One of my favorite memories was when he told me that I couldn’t touch the tree in his living room with all the glass bulbs on it. Obviously, he was given that instruction and decided that I also needed to follow it! Luckily, the tree in his family room was decorated with all plastic ornaments plus he had his own felt tree that he could rearrange as much as he desired!
The “bitter” part of this season comes from memories of loved ones who passed away during this time of year; two dear friends departed four years ago, one week apart. One was ill and the other left without warning far too soon. I have been a part of their family for over four decades, so a piece of my heart went to heaven with them.
This year marked ten years that my oldest sister died unexpectedly on Christmas Eve. I had spoken to her the day before; it was an ordinary conversation about our plans to spend time together over the holidays. She was eight years older than me; growing up, she was my protector.
In the past, I have been blessed with many signs from heaven. On December 13, I witnessed two in one afternoon from my father, who passed in 2006. As Christmas approached, I read a piece by an unknown author. It touched my soul; I want to thank whoever wrote this. In its entirety, it is two pages long, so I chose to share some excerpts here:
“This is your late loved one speaking. I don’t have long, so listen up because I have a lot I want to tell you. First off, I get it. Ever since I left this world you have missed me, and I know you’re bracing for the holidays without me. No matter what anyone says, this year’s festivities are going to be really tough. Death has a way of blinding us. It reorganizes the way you think, it changes you. You will never be the same after you lose someone. It messes with your inner physiology. It reorganizes your neurons. But then, there’s one teensy little thing you’re forgetting: I’m still around. Yes, you read that correctly, I’m right here with you. No, you can’t see me. No, you can’t reach out and hold me. But did you know that one of the things I’m allowed to do as a heavenly being is hang out with you? What, you don’t believe me? You know that tingle you get in your spine whenever you think of me? (That’s me.) You know how, just yesterday, you had a beautiful memory when you were driving and it made you cry so hard that it actually felt good and you began to laugh through tears? (Also me.) I’ll be making your spinal column tingle a lot, and I’ll be sending plenty of signs. Each of these signs—every single one—is code for ‘I love you.’ So start paying attention to these hints, because this was one.”
Believe what you want; I choose to continue to pay attention to signs from heaven.
Dori Yez will continue to write her monthly article here; and may also “guest instruct” at local venues/events!
