It’s a number

Today is my Mom’s Birthday. She was born in the year 1923. Her grand human entrance happened on a Saturday, in a modest home on Bolander Avenue in Dayton, Ohio. The Doctor came to that house on Bolander, and instructed Regina to lie on the kitchen table. Why, the kitchen table, I do not know. But there she was and out the baby came. Her parents’ first and only.  And they named her Lucille. She never quite cared for the name, and asked most everyone to call her Lucy. So we called her Mom.

Back to the day she was born. It was a warmer-than-average Saturday in the Fall. When the Doctor finished his birthing duties, he left that house on Bolander. He probably went out and had some Salooning-Poker-Playing-Cigar-Smoking-Fun that weekend. And come Monday morning, he completely forgot about little Lucy. He also forgot he was supposed to file a Birth Certificate for her.

This little oversight would make things difficult for Lucy her entire life.

It is funny how we can be standing right in front of someone, and we don’t exist, unless we can produce a piece of paper which says: “Yes. This is truly me. And here I truly stand.”

So. Despite not actually being here, Lucy led a good and noble life. She always had a warm and welcoming greeting for everyone she met. She would feed you to no end. And her smile was as bright as the morning sun. Even when she was consumed with dementia late in life, she would welcome every person who stepped in her “home.”

I could go on. And on. But enough. She died in 2016, at the age of 93. Her “online obituary” lists the date of her death inaccurately. It is only fitting that she leave this world with a clerical error, the same way she entered.

In the years just prior to her death, Mom would ask how old she was. Once she’d hear the number, she’d reply, “Well hell. That’s damn old. I should probably be dead by now.” Or something very close to that. She was funny.

And I miss her.

So yes, her Spirit-Self, came here on a Saturday, and took flight on a Thursday.

We all have different theories about where that spirit went. All of us.

Some say nowhere. We are here on earth, and then we are not. Dust to dust.
Others believe there is a heaven and a hell, and maybe someplace in between.
Still others think there is a light-fantastic, and we are an interconnected part of that Divinity.

No proof of the afterlife exists. Not which our human brains can comprehend, anyway. Our magnificent minds are extremely limited in that manner.

Personally, I believe we continue. Our energy is immeasurable and eternal. We just check in to earth for a while, to hopefully learn some things about being a better Spirit. A better and brighter light in the Universe. A being who is filled with unconditional love. Lessons, if you will. And homework, which we are asked to do, again, and again, and again. Until we learn.

So each day, if we can remember this, it would serve us well. Perhaps we are here for this: Our purpose today is to learn to treat others with compassion, and care, and love. Our purpose today is to learn our lessons from the journey. And certainly,  we can see, that our Spirit-Selves don’t need a piece of paper to tell us… “Yes. This is truly me. And yes, I am here.”



“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” – Terry Pratchett


“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.” – Mother Teresa


“A year from now you will wish you had started today.” – Karen Lamb