Messages from Mom

After reading The After Life Connection by Dr. Jane Greer,(www.drjanegreer.com ), I began noting and writing down senses and possible suggestions that Mom and others are still around.
My daughter speculated that Mom sort of "tricked" her nurse by sending her to get a glass of water, because Mom "saw something"; Was it Dad? My aunt, her oldest sister? When the nurse came back, Mom was gone. That's just the kind of thing Mom would do, too. The message from Mom was that it's easy to make one's transition, sort of like the "Twilight Zone" episode with Robert Redford and the old lady; it's just a change of cosmic address.
I also am aware that Mom has guided my daughter out of her first marriage into her present one.
A jewelry box containing her Swedish Hospital pin and her amethyst have tipped over at significant times. Two songs, "Somewhere Out There" and "Fur Elise" (as well as "Carmen") used to play at important times also. The first one played right after her transition, (I couldn't hold back the tears), and at other crucial occasions. The second one was usually heard in churches, but also the bookstore, the arts school, and other places as well. When I had questions about health, whether I or my husband should take or do something, or not, I often "ran into" her Swedish Hospital cup as a kind of signal. One time, the box containing her Swedish Hospital pin and amethyst fell over with a "crash!"
There was one outstanding occasion I was literally crying out to her in my car on my way home about a work situation that was a real concern. Even though I didn't have a dire need for gas, I chose to pull into the neighborhood gas station and met up with a colleague who had worked at that place and who told me the longer hours he'd worked, the less he got paid. So I went home to type up my resignation with great confidence, and eventually, in two weeks, I released myself from the situation. I told her best friend about this "communication", because my concerns were so dramatically and quickly answered.
Mom has also helped me deal with a church problem that is finally resolving itself, even though it wasn't my original denomination. (Regarding my present preferred spiritual approach, she indicated that she had formerly been "seeing in a mirror, dimly".) She'd had a problem in her church during her lifetime that she was actively involved in solving. One time, after reading about humor's good effects, I "stumbled upon" her picture and took it as a signal to "lighten up" once this church situation is over.
Since Mom was Swedish Lutheran, I've been directed to a Santa Lucia statue at another Swedish Lady's house; She reminds me of her, and the lady even spoke a "Malapropism" in the way my mother did. Later, I picked up a December angel who looked like a Santa Lucia, gave it to my daughter on her marriage day.
She's guided me to select a story to tell, by indicating with her birthdate, and it was a success. Also, very near her birthdate, I was given my first opportunity to present a talk at a chapel.
During her birth month, a well-known prayer line volunteered to pray for me without my asking. It "happened" that that was the month of my colonoscopy, which is a crucial issue for my family members, because our dad died of rectal cancer. "Nothing to worry about" was music to my ears, because I'm my dad's age when he died of it, so I nearly leaped off my gurney with joy. Shortly after that, when I had a new excitement about the rest of the time I have here, I had an interview for an artist-in-residence type program for the schools and enthusiastically got all my materials together for it.
She's played "Fur Elise" when the phone line was on hold for the bookstore. At the time, I was trying to order a favorite used book on playwriting, and in a metaphorical way, she encouraged me to open it and read it, now that I have it. I'd better get on that, too.

Memoirs of Mom

Everybody in my family knows the story of how my mom and my uncle (her brother in law) got roped into a social situation where they were expected to play a card game. Since both of them were "clueless", my mom urged him to be a good sport and start playing. My uncle had a broad smile and a sense of humor himself, so he went along with it. Pretty soon, they were the center of attention as they put cards in their shirts and behind their ears. People stared in amazement and asked what on earth they were playing. And my mom said, as if they should know, "Well, we're playing Japalapa".
She urged me also to learn all the rules and strategies of another game, as we sat outside during my college homecoming; she told me to "broaden my horizons." So I said to her, "Okay, then, tell me, what's going on out there?" She chirped back, "Well,that's easy; we're watching a football game!"
My mother took my brother and girlfriend driving. When she went round and round in circles in the parking lot, his girlfriend, laughingly and nervously, asked what she was doing. Her reply was, "Oh, just driving around."
Since she was a minister's wife, Mom volunteered to be camp nurse at Bible Camp, I witnessed her painting a girl camper's inner throat. As the poor camper gagged loudly, my mother "hawhaw"ed just as loudly, like she was getting a real kick out of torturing the poor girl.
My three brothers did some very creative clay work, building forts, marching soldiers, boats, and the like, and Mom came in to look. She inquired, "What's That?" while concurrently taking her thumb, "Splat!" to one of the clay pieces and flattening it.
When my two oldest brothers arrived after hitch hiking from the University of Wisconsin, all three got Mom laughing uncontrollably, as she held her sides and turned crimson: They also laughed imitatively, with an exagerrated, "Nuck, Nuck, Nuck!" while holding their sides and egging her on and on.
Since my mother was my schoolmate's supervisor at a large church nursing home, my friend was a little afraid of Mom. As my companion was rinsing out infirmary patients' diapers and putting them through the ringer, she was getting water all over the floor. Mom only stopped to observe, looked serious for awhile, then held her sides and laughed uproariously. My friend said she never was afraid of her beyond that time, relieved that she discovered her sense of humor.
In that same nursing home, a new director took over and took a shine to my mom, so whenever they were out of sight, for example, in the stairwell, he hugged her, "Hello". She really didn't know what to do about this, but when he introduced her to a V.I.P. he was trying to impress, she leaned over the director at his desk, gave him a "passionate" bear hug, and kissed him. Then, she turned and "explained" to the guest, "We always greet each other this way." She never had a problem with his overtures again.
A male cousin said about Mom that she was "pretty and entertaining". For example, Mom entertained my husband's friend in Colorado, who had my late brother's personality type and traits. She confessed she "saw" her youngest son all over again in him. She told him a story about how she got me under control when I was small by telling me a story of a mouse, who wanted cheese; he ate and ate and ate until he had a stomach ache. Then the mouse said, "Squeak,Squeak, Squeak," so that's why she'd made a pattern of "Squeaker the Mouse" for me. She went on and on relentlessly and animatedly repeating, "Squeak, Squeak, Squeak..." in a high "mouse" voice. My husband and his buddy laughed interminably; his friend looked and acted like my brother as he held his sides, quietly laughing, interspersing his quiet chuckling with guffaws and hoots. They were laughing so hard, they both had to leave; then, they went to a nearby cemetery and laid on the ground. His pal said, "I can't take it," and both laughed until their sides hurt. The next morning, his friend said, "Anita, you have a fine mother!"
At the family farm, when they made home movies, Mom said she thought the movies were stupid, because people didn't do anything but stand there and wave. So she and my middle brother decided to weave through the crowd of relatives. When they asked what they were doing, she said, "Oh, just milling around."
On the same farm, my oldest aunt played a game with my, then, two-and-a-half year old daughter. With auntie's meek child-sensitive voice, she tenderly touched her little forehead with a gentle little knock, saying, "Knock on the door," and with a soft turn of her nose, said, "Open the latch.." As my little girl's mouth opened, she said, demonstrating with two forefingers, "Walk in," then, pulled my daughter's chin tenderly, lifted it up and down, said, "How do you do?"
My older girl cousin thought that was sweet, but then went to her other aunt, my mother, and demonstrated on her, how my mother would do it: "KNOCK ON THE DOOR!" BAM! BAM! "OPEN THE LATCH!" TWIST! TWIST! "HOW DO YOU DO?!!"PULL! PULL! Mom agreed laughingly, and they both roared.
She often changed names and words. For example, she called Carl Anderson, "Bub" Carlson. And she explained that scientists said plants really grow when you talk to them, because you're breathing "carbohydrates" on them.
When we were both ten years old, my cousin got her head dunked under water while Mom shampooed her long hair, and sang "There's a joy, joy, joy, joy...down in my heart...Where!? Down in my heart...Where!? Down in my heart..."
I think her joy and laughter came from a deep reservoir of faith that she, interestingly enough, took very seriously.
There were many stories of Mom. A female cousin, on the Swedish side, told how you couldn't write down the things she said and did and get the same experience, because of her actions and inflections. Then, she demonstrated that when a very tall man entered the room, Mom (her aunt) strode up to him, raised her arm, threw her head back, and proclaimed, "You're sooo...." (deepening her voice) "TA...LL!"
Despite this disadvantage, I simply write it out as best I can, since there's no one in the world who could be Mom but Mom.