Liz and Chuck, A Love Story
Liz came to me last week for a reading. She has been widowed for 9 months and while she has peace that Chuck is not suffering, she misses him dearly.
This is a familiar set of circumstances I’ve seen with many clients through the years. We process grief in our own way, in our own time. Grieving is a most intimate process.
Liz shared with me amazing and beautiful details of a love story that spanned over 30 years and did not end with Chucks passing last spring. Liz expressed concern over the many fights they had had and the words spoken in anger. She wondered, did Chuck carry anger or resentment with him when he passed? Does he still love me? Is he with me?
I closed my eyes to “feel” for Chuck and a clear picture came to mind of a white rose, a single white rose on a long stem. I asked Liz if that had any significance to her – none that she could think of. We talked on and I was stuck with the “picture” of that single white rose, I asked again, “Did you have white roses at his memorial? Do you have a white rose planted near your home? Did he ever give you white roses?”
Well, there was one bouquet at his memorial that had red and white carnations…but that just didn’t “feel” like what I was “feeling.”
It is not uncommon for the messages to need some time to resonate, or for us to work together to decipher what’s going on.
I “saw” then that she had changed something around in their home. She said the only thing she had changed was that she had hung some pictures. All at once here eyes got huge and she said, “The white flower is in the hole I made in the wall!” Apparently Chuck was very handy and had taught Liz a fair amount about how to take care of things. Liz had decided to hang a picture, got out his drill and made a hole that was too high. To cover the hole, she had taken a single long stemmed white flower and dropped it into the hole in the wall to conceal it! Voila! There are not words to accurately describe the relief I feel when the message has been delivered to the loved one.
Liz was tickled that Chuck was playing with her. She asked again, “Is he here now?”
With that I reported that he wanted to know, “Did you fix the plumbing?”
She gasped and stared in disbelief! Yes, she is currently having a plumbing issue!
How did he know she wondered? Well…as they (those who have passed) frequently say through me, only my body is gone, I am with you. Chuck remains attuned to her emotional well being.
I realize that hearing only the body is gone is a hard pill to swallow and does nothing to displace the sadness and emptiness of their passing, it is simply what is.
Our conversation flowed and she asked again, “Is he here now?” As if he were sitting next to me in the room I heard this: “Ask her if she’s checked her tires.” She knew immediately what he was referencing. A friend of his had sold one of Chucks’ guns for her. Liz planned to have the tires checked and if she needed new ones use the money earned from the sale of the gun to buy the new tires! By this time the sadness and heaviness Liz had been carrying since his passing had evaporated. Her eyes were bright and twinkled as we continued our session.
Liz described to me some beautiful conversations they shared prior to Chuck passing but expressed some sadness that they had not prearranged a “sign” so that she would know he was with her.
I told Liz that it is perfectly fine for her to decide what the sign could be and simply watch for the validations to appear. It was clear that she wanted more so I closed my eyes and waited for anything to come. It wasn’t long before I saw a pin or metal, like the type of pin you might get if you are part of a club. It felt as though it could belong to a motorcycle club…but that wasn’t exactly it. Liz described various pins Chuck had and it seemed that she might be content with recognizing motorcycle club pins as a sign from Chuck when suddenly she remembered that 2 days prior she had found a little pin that read, “I love Chuck”. We both knew, in that moment that he was saying, he loves her too.
It is incredible and humbling to be allowed to be the conduit to deliver these signs of enduring love. The blessings and tears shed by Liz were shared by me as well. We hugged as she left, her parting words to me were, “I’m happy Julie, it’s been a very long time since I felt happy. Thank you.” The funny thing is, I felt it was I who owed her thanks. Thank you, Liz for sharing this step on your path, and for your permission in publishing your story.
I called Liz today for permission to share details of her session on this blog and she was happy to share the following updates:
The white rose is her wedding ring! Chuck had the ring made as a friendship gift to Liz in 1976.
Upon returning home Liz opened the box which contains Chucks’ ashes, hanging from a black cord around the bag was a shiny round silver metal with the name of the mortuary on it. Literally saying, I am here.
It is not uncommon for “signs” to take on dual representations and meaning. The white flower in the wall made Liz and I laugh out loud that he would joke with us about her boo boo! The sentimental message of course lay in her wedding ring.
Bless you Liz, you are a delight to work with.