Signs?

I was getting ready for church yesterday morning, rather begrudgingly due to a wee bit of a wine headache (ahem).  We (or maybe just me) contemplated going to the evening Mass at another church and just hang out in the morning, but we, or maybe just I, was afraid we'd wind up not going so we decided to keep to our regular 11 o'clock.  And as happens just about every day, at least once, my thoughts turned to my late Aunt Terry...Therese (for the Saint).  I was thinking about the last time my mom and I saw her and what we said to her both privately and in front of the rest of the family...her children.  I remembered what my mom said to her; "you said you would teach me how to pray. Teach me, I'm here."  But she didn't get the chance; she died that night.  Standing in the shower one memory lead to another and another after that.  It was one of the few-ish times I let myself really dwell on her, my aunt, my go-to girl who let me complain about everything and everyone and never tried to 'fix' it; never tried to give me an answer or tell me it wasn't that bad or I should be patient and it will 'take care itself'.  She would nod knowingly, crack a joke, and we'd move on.  There was never EVER a time with her that I didn't smile.  

So off we go, the four of us, to morning Mass.  My mom, the day before, sold her Florida house, enabling her to move back up to New Jersey (to be closer to most of us) so I wanted to offer the Mass in thanksgiving for taking this worry off all of our plates.  Offering the Mass to someone or something is something she would do, my mom, which started me thinking, briefly, of my aunt (Mom's little sister) again.  However, having to give my full attention to what was happening in the there and now, I pushed it back until another time.

I'm not sure if you're familiar with the Catholic Mass, but before the Consecration of the Host, which is when the bread becomes body, we offer special intentions.  They range anywhere from world peace to deceased family members.  After each intention, the congregation replies "Lord hear our prayer." It's nice.  Well at this particular Mass, after the morning of memories and last-minute decisions to attend our "regular" Mass, the Deacon says, "and for the dearly departed, especially Therese Yates."  We just looked at each other, my family and me.  We smiled, got welled up, pulled ourselves together and got back to it.  Both Gene and I had forgotten that we scheduled it for her when she passed away in June.  It was a really lovely surprise.  Good thing we came!

Lots of people talk about loved ones leaving little signs that they're with them still.  Dimes found, cardinals in the yard, a meaningful song comes on the radio, that kind of thing.  It never happened to me...or at least I never took notice.  When my dad passed away I had a few dreams, but that was it.  I just didn't buy it but it brought those people peace and that's what's important.  Well I think I finally got a sign!  It's all I've been thinking about since.  Coincidence?  Probably.  But since it brought a smile to my face and filled me with special, and yes, a little sad, feelings, I'm buying in.  She and I spoke often of religion so of course it came during church, right? 

I just wanted to share mostly because it is cathartic for me and unknowingly, you helped me cleanse a bit.  But also I wanted to write something about Therese to give those of you who didn't have the joy of knowing her, an idea of the kind of person she was.  I hadn't up until now as I was afraid it would read like a eulogy or obituary.  So I took this opportunity to even a little bit, introduce you to her.

If you didn't get to meet her, you missed out!  She was funny, smart, the queen of sarcasm and straight faced delivery.  A true friend and confidante.  She ran her church's Outreach program like she was the CEO of a company, and it showed.  She was so fun to be around, whether it be in a casino in Atlantic City or just sitting in her backyard poolside.  

She threw the best Thanksgiving dinners.  It was always the official start of the holidays for us all.  You never received an invitation; you were just expected to be there.  She created beautiful and detailed and huge Christmas villages that were always ready by Thanksgiving so everyone could enjoy them.  She was generous.  She thought of everyone's children at Christmas time and always had a little something for them. My kids were two of many recipients who received gingerbread house kits at Thanksgiving to have ready for Christmas...maybe she was trying to turn all of us into village builders too!  Like with her own children, she would get right down with them and play with her grandchildren and grandnieces and nephews like she was one of them.  I could go on and on but the bottom line?  She was awesome.  She wasn't supposed to leave this soon and she broke a lot of hearts when she left.  She is missed every single day.

So as this is starting to sound like an obit after all, let me close by apologizing to all those people I may have rolled my eyes at listening to or reading about their "signs from the other side".  Whether they were coincidence or a beloved with a day pass from Heaven, it made you smile.  It gave you warm feelings and comfort feeling that you're being watched over even after they left this world.  So keep on looking for dimes and cardinals and songs!  Any time you're reminded of someone who's passed on is a good time.

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

I almost didn't post this because I don't want to offend anyone.  I honestly believe the signs are there if we choose to see them.  Perhaps not left because they miss us or are worried about us, but because they're telling us their fine...more than fine even!  I think I simply need to pay more attention.  For all I know, my dad, my aunts and uncles (they've all passed on now), grandparents; they've been reaching out for ages but I never took the call.