What a difference a Mo makes!

I recognize yesterday's post was super random.  I guess my point, without saying it was that I had been mindlessly rapping along with this incredibly violent and dark song for all of these years.  Ted and I even get excited when it comes on the radio because it reminds us of the early nineties and because we know all of the words.  But, I have never even fully listened to what I've been saying.  It's weird how mindless we can be as we go through life.  When I really listened to what the song was saying, what I was saying, I finally understood what the song was about.  It was a really weird and mindful moment.

And speaking of mindful...... I went to this conference with my Auntie Alison on Saturday.  The weekend was full of all sorts of interesting authors and speakers, but I was really only interested in two: John Holland and Dr. Brian Weiss so I just joined her on Saturday.  These are two of the guys that I have been reading and following - two who have helped me believe (sort of) that there might be more than this life and that Maxie might be waiting for me when mine is over.  You know it is just too hard for me to believe that Max is just buried in a box on the side of a hill near my house (I just got the chills when I wrote that...the thought shakes me to my core).

I have never seen Dr. Brian Weiss before but I read his book, "Many Lives, Many Masters", right after Max died.  A friend's mother brought it for me to Maxie's shiva.  It helped her greatly after her daughter died three years ago.  I REALLY liked Dr. Weiss, a psychiatrist and past life regressionist, and I will tell you that it had less to do with the subject matter that he was speaking about and much more to do with his dry sense of humor and his gentle demeanor.  He reminded me of my grandpa Jack.  Dr. Weiss also lost a baby boy many, many years ago.  He says that his son's death set him on the path that he is on.  He wants to help others with healing because he knows how awful deep grief is.

I have seen John Holland, a world famous medium, before (at the afterlife conference in Phoenix, AZ in March).  He was AMAZING then.  He was AMAZING Saturday too.  Though I love him, and I really do...I don't think I can see him live again for a while.  It is too stressful.  I want him to pick me so bad.  The only thing that was less inspiring about Saturday's session than the ones we saw in AZ were the people that were picked.  In Phoenix, he picked mostly bereaved parents and spouses - the stories were all tragic.  You could see the MAJOR healing that the messages gave the people who were picked.  On Saturday, there were a lot of grandparents and older parents that "came through".  So, while the messages touched the souls of the people being read in a big way, I didn't get the feeling that they completely altered lives in quite the same way.  Tragedy is just different than an older person reaching the end of their life to me for some reason.  This is just a personal opinion.

What I really wanted to write about today though, was about a woman who was sitting in the front row, dead center, in John Holland's presentation.  She was two rows in front of us.  I could tell with one look that she was a bereaved parent.  She looked desperate for a reading.  She was surrounded on either side by women who were rubbing her back and speaking to her with sympathetic eyes and loving tones.  She was gripping her tissue and shaking slightly.  There was a DARK cloud hanging over her.  I just KNEW she had lost a child.  Side note: recall when Inigo Montoya KNOWS that he hears the "Man in Black's" scream in the Princess Bride?  He says he knows that it is his scream because his true love is marrying another that day.  He knows about the Man in Black's scream the way I knew that this woman was a bereaved parent.  It was pretty much confirmed for me when John Holland said, "If you are hoping to get a message today, send up the love to your loved ones who have crossed over".  I saw her open a photo on her iphone of a young woman's California ID and stare at it while mouthing a prayer to herself.  Oh lord!  I know that desperation well!  TOO well!  He didn't read her.  At the end of the session he asked if anyone had questions for him (presumably we didn't have enough time for one last reading) and she stretched up in her chair so high.  The women next to her were pointing at her as if to say, "Pick this woman, she NEEDS to talk to you".  He didn't pick her.  After his session was over, she tried to chase him out the side door as he was being whisked away.  Early grief is so dark.  I can see why people believe that too much dependence on mediums can be dangerous for a grieving person.  It was as if her whole life depended on getting his attention.  Ugh.  Seeing her desperation, I remembered my own anguish on a cellular level.  All I could think was to tell her what parents who have had to go through this before me have been telling me - "It DOES get easier".  And really, "easier" is not the right word - more accurate words might be "different" or "more bearable". I didn't approach her though.  I just needed to take care of myself and I was having a good day.  Selfish but true.  I don't think she would have cared what I had to say anyway.  She had a one track mind.

When I came back to the conference after lunch time, I got there a little early and decided to kill some time in the stores in the area (Colorado Blvd in Pasadena is filled with the cutest shops and restaurants).  I found the CUTEST baby store called "Buttercup" with the most expensive fancy strollers that I think I have ever seen.  They have a bunch of other really cute baby stuff too.  I was browsing the store for a present for Mo when it hit me that I could not have stepped foot into this store in the year after Max died and before Mo was born.  If I had seen the front of it, it would have felt like someone had thrown acid in my eyes.  But, there I was, browsing around, picking up board books and touching cute little outfits.   Whoa!  What a difference a Mo makes!  And, there it was...."Goodnight Moon".  Maxie's favorite book.  We have three copies: one is at my mom's house, one is too big to read to Mo yet, and the third was buried with Max.  I decided it was a good time to buy another copy for our house to read to Mozie.  Sounds like nothing, but it was a big, monumental move for me.  Maxie would be proud.