Everywhere Are Signs

Sometimes they are called signs, sometimes (rather ominously) portents and sometimes omens. Whatever they are called, I firmly believe that, if you need input from a Higher Source and if you are aware, the Universe will send you a “heads up!” in the form of signs. The method of delivery certainly varies with each individual. Most, but not all, of my little moments of clarity seem to come in unusual behavior of animals which send me running for my books on symbology to determine what this odd behavior is trying to tell me. A few times I have just been inundated with information in every possible way to get the meaning of the message.

My Mother was stricken with Alzheimer’s in the mid 1980’s. The disease escalated quickly. She no longer knew me or my brothers and sister and was given to violent episodes. Finally we had no option but to place her in a nursing home. The facility was in the suburbs of Atlanta and I lived about 60 miles away, had two school age children and an infant so had very little time to travel to see Mama. I felt guilty for not visiting but it was very hard to see the vital, intelligent and highly creative person that was my Mother, slip away. A good friend, who was also an excellent psychic, called one day out of the blue to tell me that I would know when Mama’s time had come. That phone call brought me great peace. I had just about forgotten about that call until December 1999. My youngest daughter, who was just an infant when Mama was first diagnosed and was now a freshman in high school, came walking through the hall and asked, “Who’s Sadie?”

I was startled to say the least. “The only Sadie I know is my Mama. She was born Sadie Louise but hated the name Sadie. She legally changed it to Sarah when she was eighteen. Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders and said she had just heard someone call Sadie, twice. Of course there was no one in the house but me and my daughter and I had heard nothing. I had never told my children that their grandmother’s name had at one time been Sadie. My antenna went up. Things like this happened all the time at our house. It didn’t frighten me or the kids, but I suddenly remembered that phone call all those years before and it started me thinking... But life goes on. My two oldest children had flown the nest but the youngest was in school and in the marching band, I was working part time at a local doctor’s office and my husband was at work almost more than he was at home. It was a busy time.

About two weeks later my husband walked in and told me I needed to go look on the back porch. After threatening him with torture and eventual death if there was a snake on the porch, I gingerly eased out the back door. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. There was a tiny black and white kitten sitting calmly on the doorstep looking straight at me. The little beastie was almost identical to a cat we had when I was much younger. I could just hear my Mama’s voice, “I just love little black and white kittens. They are always the prettiest little things”

My daughter insisted that we keep the kitten and that we must name her Sadie. Of course we did just that. Later that evening, the three of us sat watching TV, but my mind was on every thing that I had to get done the next day. Dot, one of our other cats walked in the room, stared at the black and white ball of fur on my daughter’s shoulder, glared at everyone in the room and flounced out the door. Her fluffy, grey tail held high with indignation. She had been the only female in a litter of seven born in the upstairs pantry several months before and she was born with attitude. We named her Dot after the character of the same name on the cartoon show, “Animaniacs”. The character was always proclaiming how cute she was and our Dot did the same thing but with actions rather than words. Then a realization hit me. We had a Dot and a Sadie in the house. My aunt Doris, Mama’s sister and her best friend in the whole world, was nicknamed Dot. Dot and her husband ran their own business and were very successful. She and her family lived in a beautiful and very expensive home. Whenever Dot was telling someone where she lived, she always made a point to say “On Janice Drive in College Park.” She was proud of her success and the location of her house confirmed her position. I and Mama went over at least once a week. I was always ready to drop what I was doing and go visit Aunt Dot. I would wander through the rooms while Mama and Dot talked, giggled and laughed away an afternoon. I loved to see Mama as happy as she was when they were together. Dot was also diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and died in 1993. Mama never knew.

A week or two later I was talking to a friend of mine who happens to be one of the best astrologers I have ever known. At sometime during the conversation he began talking about the upcoming Mercury Retrograde. He was telling me about all the unusual things that seem to come about during those 3 to 4 week periods. “You know”, he said, “it’s common for people who are terminally ill to decide that the time has come and will cross over during a Mercury Retrograde It’s also not unusual, say if one family member dies at that time, that others will also check out during a retrograde.” I had not mentioned anything to him about Mama or the signals I seemed to be getting so I made a mental note to check on Daddy’s date of death when I had a minute of free time.

The first part of February was unusually busy that year at work and at home. One of the tasks that I hated the most at work was filing the paperwork of people that had visited the Emergency Room. These patients were always referred to a physician associated with the local hospital and were supposed to schedule a follow up appointment as soon as possible. Their information was couriered to our office so that if they did decide to make an appointment we would have the information at hand. On that Monday, I knew that I would have a weekends worth of paperwork to file and I was not happy. The first sheet I pulled off the 2 inch stack of paper stopped me in my tracks. There was my Mama’s name. I don’t know much about other parts of the country, but in the South it is very common to find a twig on the family tree that spells the last name the same but for one vowel. This change is usually brought about by a family argument that got out of hand and one of the injured parties could no longer stand to be known by the same name. In our case it was my grandfather and one of his brothers that disagreed, on what nobody remembers, but for us an “O” became an “A”. In all my years I had only heard of one other family that spelled their last name the same way. Just to be sure, I checked the personal information on the paperwork… of course it was not Mama. I knew then that it wouldn’t be long before she decided to cross over.

My daughter and I had developed a habit of sitting together every evening. We chatted about everything one can imagine. That evening she was telling me about a keyboarding exercise they had done in class. They were typing a list of very unusual names and she enjoyed it very much. I started to comment on some of the names but to my surprise something very different came out of my mouth. “I’ll tell you an unusual name. It’s Eugene.”

“Who’s Eugene?” she asked.

“That’s Uncle Gene’s full first name. We used to call him Gene, Gene Butterbean when we were little.”

She giggled and we began discussing the fact that the next day was President’s Day and there would no school. She would be home by herself for a few hours and I reminded her to keep the doors locked and to check the caller ID before she answered the phone. If she didn’t recognize the name she should not answer the call.

The next day was a tiring day at work and I was more than ready to leave by five o’clock. I very seldom called home before I left. If anyone needed me to stop anywhere for something they usually called me. No one had called but I found myself dialing our home number right before I hit the door. My daughter’s voice sounded strange. “What’s wrong?” I asked. My brother Gene had called to tell me that Mama had taken a turn for the worse. I hung up the phone and sighed. This was it and I knew, as good as I knew my own name, that there was no way I could make it to the nursing home in time to say good bye.

I went home to cook supper and wait for the phone call. Ashley was helping in the kitchen and she looked at me. “Mama, are you mad at me for not calling you?”

“No, Honey, I’m not mad. I’ve been expecting it for a few weeks now.”

She nodded. “You know, if you hadn’t told me about Uncle Gene’s name being Eugene last night I wouldn’t have answered the phone today. When it rang and I saw his name I almost didn’t answer it but I remembered what you said so I picked it up.”

I started to reassure her but the phone rang and there was my brother’s name on the caller id.

I decided to take an extra day off the day after the funeral. I was parked on the sofa with my coffee cup in hand watching the local morning news program. I knew that Mercury was about to go retrograde and remembered my astrologer friend’s comment about terminally ill people crossing over at that time. I had had neither the time nor the inclination to check out the position of Mercury so I had gotten up earlier than usual to check my astrology program. I was a little surprised to find out that Mama had died on the first day of the retrograde. Curious, I backtracked to my dad’s date of death. My Dad had also died on the first day of a Mercury Retrograde 33 years earlier. My mind, as it often does wandered. I suddenly pondered if Dot and Mama were giggling and laughing as they always did when they were together. At that precise moment the news anchor broke in talking quickly about a police chase in progress. A man had hijacked a car in Atlanta and was being pursued out of Atlanta into the suburbs. “We’ve just received word that the subject was traveling south on Highway 29 and has crashed the car into a telephone pole on Janice Drive in College Park. Police have him in custody.”

My coffee grew cold as I sat there grinning from ear to ear. Now that, dear readers, is a sign.