I wrote this post almost two weeks ago and had to sit on it until the emotions weren't so raw. Just speaking about this experience to my best friend on the phone, I broke down in tears.
We just decorated for Christmas. Among our -- pretty much my -- decorations is a an animated, light-up, stuffed moose head wearing sleigh bells that hangs on the wall next to our fireplace. It's sort of a nod to the actual deer head Antonio would like to see one day hanging above the fireplace (if he can get me on board...and that's a big "if"). So a stuffed moose head that shouts Santa's catchphrase and sings Christmas carols will have to do for now. (Ain't she a beaut, Clark?)
Brian loved this moose head. It was always in our downstairs bathroom, which had a hunting lodge theme. It was the bathroom at the top of the stairs when you came up from our basement bar, the Boka Bear Den (beer on tap, a fridge for other stuff, shelves of liquor, a dartboard, Bears memorabilia all over the walls, and a poker table). We had so much fun there!
Anyway, back to the moose. Brian always liked moose. When he was tiny, he had a stuffed animal named Moosey. He always kept that moose in his bedroom at his parents' house, even when we were all grown-ups and married. Once our nieces were born, they got to sleep with Moosey. There is a great picture of Brian playing with Lily and Moosey on the stairs at his parents' house. Brian once bought Lily a giant stuffed moose for Christmas. Moosey was buried with Brian.
The day after we did our Christmas decorating, I was in the kitchen doing dishes from my oatmeal breakfast when I heard the animated moose head start shouting and singing. He's a motion-detector, so I go in to see what set him off, as I was the only one home and I hadn't heard any activity from the cats. There was a cat laying on the chair, but she didn't look like she'd moved in a while. The only other thing in the living room that could have set him off was the screensaver on the DirecTV. Could that moving blue box have been enough to trigger the moose?
When I heard this Christmas moose start shouting and singing, and I couldn't see what had set it off, I thought it had to be Brian. I thought he was saying hello and "Merry Christmas" to me. At least that is what hoped, with all my might. I wanted it to be Brian so badly. I ran into the living room to see what had set the Christmas moose off, hoping Brian would be there. I know he is dead and that he would not be there in living form, but I do believe in visits from the departed and I just wish I could see him again, so I could feel like it wasn't all in my head. If I could see him, I would know he was reaching out to me. And of course I want him to be reaching out to me. I miss him. I want to know that he's happy and at peace, and that he would approve of what I've done with my life and where I'm heading. I long to see him.
When I didn't see Brian, I cried. And I decided I had to blog, to share this experience with everyone else who has lost someone dear and who may have felt a similar longing to be visited by their loved one who has crossed over before.
As I was writing this post, the damn moose went off several more times, until I concluded that a change in lighting in the room due to cloud positioning is probably the culprit that keeps setting him off. Is that what happened the first time? Or was it Brian?
I feel crazy having these questions, for seeking a sign from beyond so desperately that I might be losing my grasp on logic. How do I know what to believe? How do I know if he is trying to say hello or if it just a coincidence, etc.?
We just decorated for Christmas. Among our -- pretty much my -- decorations is a an animated, light-up, stuffed moose head wearing sleigh bells that hangs on the wall next to our fireplace. It's sort of a nod to the actual deer head Antonio would like to see one day hanging above the fireplace (if he can get me on board...and that's a big "if"). So a stuffed moose head that shouts Santa's catchphrase and sings Christmas carols will have to do for now. (Ain't she a beaut, Clark?)
Brian loved this moose head. It was always in our downstairs bathroom, which had a hunting lodge theme. It was the bathroom at the top of the stairs when you came up from our basement bar, the Boka Bear Den (beer on tap, a fridge for other stuff, shelves of liquor, a dartboard, Bears memorabilia all over the walls, and a poker table). We had so much fun there!
Anyway, back to the moose. Brian always liked moose. When he was tiny, he had a stuffed animal named Moosey. He always kept that moose in his bedroom at his parents' house, even when we were all grown-ups and married. Once our nieces were born, they got to sleep with Moosey. There is a great picture of Brian playing with Lily and Moosey on the stairs at his parents' house. Brian once bought Lily a giant stuffed moose for Christmas. Moosey was buried with Brian.
The day after we did our Christmas decorating, I was in the kitchen doing dishes from my oatmeal breakfast when I heard the animated moose head start shouting and singing. He's a motion-detector, so I go in to see what set him off, as I was the only one home and I hadn't heard any activity from the cats. There was a cat laying on the chair, but she didn't look like she'd moved in a while. The only other thing in the living room that could have set him off was the screensaver on the DirecTV. Could that moving blue box have been enough to trigger the moose?
When I heard this Christmas moose start shouting and singing, and I couldn't see what had set it off, I thought it had to be Brian. I thought he was saying hello and "Merry Christmas" to me. At least that is what hoped, with all my might. I wanted it to be Brian so badly. I ran into the living room to see what had set the Christmas moose off, hoping Brian would be there. I know he is dead and that he would not be there in living form, but I do believe in visits from the departed and I just wish I could see him again, so I could feel like it wasn't all in my head. If I could see him, I would know he was reaching out to me. And of course I want him to be reaching out to me. I miss him. I want to know that he's happy and at peace, and that he would approve of what I've done with my life and where I'm heading. I long to see him.
When I didn't see Brian, I cried. And I decided I had to blog, to share this experience with everyone else who has lost someone dear and who may have felt a similar longing to be visited by their loved one who has crossed over before.
As I was writing this post, the damn moose went off several more times, until I concluded that a change in lighting in the room due to cloud positioning is probably the culprit that keeps setting him off. Is that what happened the first time? Or was it Brian?
I feel crazy having these questions, for seeking a sign from beyond so desperately that I might be losing my grasp on logic. How do I know what to believe? How do I know if he is trying to say hello or if it just a coincidence, etc.?
There are no coincidences, Wendy. Merry Christmas.
ReplyDeleteI have had similar experiences from creaks in the house to bangs that you find lead to nothing more than that thing on the shelf that has been there for years laying on floor.
ReplyDeleteI remember our conversation over thanskgiving, and I now feel I am in the terrible 2 stage. My counselor tells me it gets easier with time, and I do believe him.
I want so hard for this to be a Christmas withough saddness, only celebration for the life of Jesus and the ones we love. As I try to focus on the good, it seems the sad creeps out. From songs on the radio, to my IPOD randomly finding the sad songs, to finding those things that have been lost for a year in a half suddenly appearing again.
When I find everyday things of his wide open high traffic places, it makes me wonder where my brain has been. For some reason I see them now.
I believe it is not a coincidence, but our husbands want to make sure that we know they are still here and watching over us.
Atlease that is what I tell myself when I manage to not get pulled over for speeding, avoid a terrible accident, or smile because I feel they are in the room with me.
Hope you have a great Christmas! I will be thinking of you.