I received your ‘Winged Messengers’ email this morning but didn’t have time to read it. An hour ago, a friend forwarded to me the ‘Winged Messengers’ email he received from you with a note “I saw this offering and was reminded of you and thought you might appreciate it.” My friend is aware that on January 22nd the love of my life for more than four decades took her last breath and returned to her spiritual home. The fact that you began writing this piece on my wife’s birthday, March 21, seemed a sign to me to open my heart for a message.
Please know that your loss saddens me, and I feel your pain. I am certain that you, like me, have received dozens, if not hundreds, of condolences. All are well meaning, but none can replace the essential and irreplaceable piece now missing.
I have found two poems by Ullie-Kaye worth having nearby. The first is for you. The second is for those who are willing to help you with your sadness.
Oh, dear Larry 💔😭🥀 I am so harrowingly sorry you suffered the loss of your beloved soulmate—of more than four decades, no less. You are only just over two months into this journey through grief, and yet you mustered the strength, magnanimity of spirit, and full-hearted compassion to comfort *me* in my grief. Wow.
Thank you for your astonishingly thoughtful Ullie-Kaye word gifts. As I read, “A Nearby Distance,” I began to weep. Smoky, one of our gray tabbies, was perched on my standing workstation to my right, waiting for pets. She got a worried look on her face and studied me to make sure I was okay. I petted her to reassure her they were healing tears.
“The Antidote” is marvelous advice for the comforters, and that, too, brought healing tears.
I feel honored to be entwined in synchronicity with your wife’s birthday, and I can only hope my own meditations on grief can offer you comfort in kind. If you haven’t yet read my previous essays on losing Michael, you may find solace in them or at least companionship on your own journey:
Thank you for taking time in your busy day to share your beautiful words, your essays about Michael, and your gift of ‘Love Abides’. Mandy & I have been following your exquisite work with great respect and awe for many years. You are a uniquely gifted writer, and we have always admired the poignant clarity of your essays.
I wonder if “A tear for a tear” will ever replace “An eye for an eye.” It did not take long for my eyes to well up while reading your reply.
Because you have shared so willingly about Michael, I’d like for you to have a small glimpse of my beloved Mandy, my best friend. After Mandy returned home, I posted on my Facebook page for the first time. My “Parting is such sweet sorrow” post can be viewed at https://bit.ly/MandyIsHome. Mandy’s obituary on the Westford Funeral Home site can be viewed at https://www.westfordfuneralhome.com/obituaries/mandy-cox.
I am honored to be having this conversation with you. As Ullie-Kaye gently suggests, I offer you compassion, connection and presence as you mourn your beloved Michael. Perhaps we face the same question: How to move forward after experiencing ‘as good as it gets’?
I scarcely know how to begin writing this. My heart feels so broken, so shattered, as if Mandy were one of my own family members, and in a way, she was, being part of our karass (https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/letter-to-my-karass). I am so sad we never got to connect before it was too late, but I thank you for introducing me to this extraordinary woman, whom I feel honored to have had as a reader.
I think I went through about a quarter of a Kleenex box while reading your heartwrenching Facebook post and then watching that poignant memorial slideshow.
Mandy was—is—stunningly beautiful, inside and out, and it is clear you two managed to achieve the rarest sort of love, the kind I describe in “How to Build a Joyful Marriage”:
That image of her looking heavenward at the end of the slideshow gutted me but also reminded me she is now part of all that is, was, and forever will be.
Coffee, Toffee, and Dusty all looked into my wet eyes, distressed to see and hear me so distressed. I crouched down and stretched my hand out to Coffee, letting him know I am okay, and he came up and rubbed my hand, followed by Toffee and Dusty.
I noticed your beloved kitty in several of the pictures. I hope you have your own animal comforters surrounding you as I don’t know how I would have made it through this without them.
I would like to share with you another gift I received when I got up today. I was listening to Devotchka’s remastered album “How It Ends” on Spotify, and “Dearly Departed” came on. That—and the whole rest of the album, but particularly “You Love Me” and “How It Ends”—opened the floodgates of my heart, partly because of the beauty of the music itself but also because Devotchka’s music features heavily in our favorite film, “Little Miss Sunshine,” which we watched the morning our cherished cat, Boland, breathed his last breath, and whose name could not be uttered for years afterward because of how agonizingly painful it was to both of us, but especially Michael, whose fragile heart could not bear the grief:
Margaret, thank you for the gift of DEARLY DEPARTED. I will now need to listen to the other Devotchka songs you listed. And thank you for taking time to know Mandy... and to share this little dialogue with me. I fully realize you need to "get back to work" so I will say goodbye for now to free up your time. That said, I feel closely connected to you and Michael, as if your souls have known our souls (Mandy & mine) before we chose to lower our vibrations and assume physical form.
I also feel that you and I are on a very similar path having lost our best friends and soulmates. If your time allows, I would like to continue to offer you compassion, connection and presence as you mourn your beloved Michael and as you choose how you go on from here. Because I am a subscriber, I believe you have my email address. I will also send a reply to your Substack email address with my contact info just in case.
During our nearly 42 years of marriage, Mandy & I were fortunate to have had nine cats choose to live with us. We lost our last one in 2019. At the moment, I am enjoying the company of old and new human friends on hiking trails, at our home, at restaurants, and at the movies. I am fortunate to have caring people in my life who help mask my sadness like clouds hide the sun, if only for a while during the day. From dinner time on, unbearable sadness invariably returns.
I look forward to reading and supporting your glorious writing for many years to come. If you have time and would like to share your ups and downs as we each move forward on our unique paths, I would love to continue this dialogue via email (or even by phone).
Thank you for the gift of your time! It has been a pleasure getting to know you and Michael.
I have been quietly reading your conversation here with Margaret, feeling such sorrow for you both, and awe for the depth of love and eloquence with which you both share such vulnerability and sorrow. I read your beautiful FB post and also watched your moving slideshow tribute to Mandy, and I agree with Margaret, she is absolutely stunning, and I ached deeply for you as I watched.
I also had to let you know that I instantly recognized the fall colors of the lake photos in the slideshow as decidedly northeast, as I spent my summers growing up in the Adirondacks, on a lake very similar to yours, so I felt even more connection to you both as a result. If you feel comfortable sharing where your lake is, I would be very interested to know. (Email can work too if you prefer more privacy.) Sharing a home on a lake like that becomes part of your soul in a way that can not be explained unless you have lived it, so I understand personally a little more of your beautiful history together.
May you continue to meet with Mandy in your dreams, until you can be in each other's arms again.
Thank you for joining our conversation. And thank you for taking time to learn about my sweet Mandy. It is a pleasure to meet you. Your wish that I continue to meet Mandy in my dreams is greatly appreciated. I still feel as connected to Mandy as I did when she was here with me.
Regarding the lake photos, while I grew up in New York and New Jersey and was living in D.C. when I met Mandy, we moved to Charlotte, NC when we were married. One summer, we vacationed at Lake Toxaway at 3,000 feet elevation in the North Carolina mountains. Lake Toxaway (or "redbird" / "Cardinal" in the local native American language) is about 50 miles southwest of Asheville and 15 miles west of Brevard.
We initially purchased a lakefront condo there, and then later a lake house after we sold our home in Charlotte. Lake Toxaway is unique in that the 640-acre lake is privately owned by the homeowners association, which encompasses roughly 9,000 acres, including three waterfalls, and a country club with golf and tennis. Only property owners have access to the lake, so the lake is quite peaceful. Jet skis and jet boats are not allowed.
Below are links to (1) Wikipedia regarding the fascinating history of Lake Toxaway and (2) The Lake Toxaway Company, which re-developed the lake after the dam burst in 1916.
Cynthia, I had seen previously that your Nature's Heart Healing substack page is "Coming Soon" and look forward to reading more about a topic that is very important to me now. I believe I subscribed yesterday.
It is wonderful to meet you and Margaret's other friends here. It's been difficult to find friends where we now live in Washington State who share a similar worldview. Margaret's extended community is heaven sent.
I'm staggered by the number and depth of synchrodestinies that have enveloped you, Margaret. As Tereza said, there's no denying this. How you have chosen to interpret them is equally staggering in its fragile beauty. I'm so honored to have looped myself in somehow, to your and Michael's poignant story of love neverending. Blessings of light and love to you both as you continue your process of grieving, dear one 🙏🏼❤️🌟
Your words, dear Mary, feel like a lyrical embrace.
I am still gobsmacked by your dragonfly visitation on Michael’s birthday–funeral day. But I never would have known about it if you hadn’t chosen to write about it … and to take that particular photo … and if I hadn’t happened to study the image more closely than I almost ever do and notice the date. All of the intersecting variables that had to align with such precision truly boggles the mind.
Thank you for your sensitive soul, my Apocaloptimistic friend.
And “synchrodestinies” is brilliant! Did you coin that yourself?
From the time the dragonfly landed on Michael's ring, I was hooked. Maybe one of these could be a coincidence, but come on ...
When I look at the photos of you with your beautiful friends, I'm just struck by how much I love your face. There's something so iconic and essentially you about your look. It's a vulnerability. And when I read your description of Michael, 'childlike innocence' leapt out at me. I always think of him as the patron saint of insects.
I now have a stained glass dragonfly from Ukraine, thanks to Etsy. I got chills that my post coincided with your dragonfly visitation. And Mary's with Michael's birthday! Really, there's no denying this.
The advice to be gentle with yourself is good, Margaret. The blue wings of the dragonfly were so beautiful, I wondered if it was a stock photo. And then to see the dragonfly disassembled. I think that message is that the essence is always there, the form is ephemeral. Michael keeps coming back and back and back, just not in the form you so dearly miss.
Thank you for sharing this, my sister, and for including me in your sweet homage.
Your profound comment is a miniature post in itself, Tereza, ripe with philosophical, spiritual, and psychological meanings. Thank you for your tenderheartedness, Tereza, as well as your Apocaloptimistic friendship.
I knew I was going to need space and quiet for this post and I was right about that. This is such a gift; a reorientation, a prayer and a song of love, all in one. Thank you for posting this.
Being in Nature has been my go-to for staying balanced and grounded and in love with life, no matter what is happening in the world personally or collectively. It anchors me and I'm very familiar with Nature's creatures and that they are always communicating to us. Of course we have to pay attention and open to it.
Reading this I thought - Michael didn't 'go' anywhere. Michael is everywhere.
Nothing is what we thought is was - as we've been discovering - and that's really good because it's so much better than what we were told and shown. As this post beautifully expresses.
"My heart remains open to Mystery, and I am content to trust without knowing, feel without understanding, love without certainty."
Remarkably, out of this deep grief, we are watching you transform into an even better version of YOU - which was already impressive and inspiring - and which by extension (for those of us fortunate enough to know you) better versions of ourselves.
Thank you, dearest Margaret. 🙏 🌸💖 You make us all better humans.
Dearest Kathleen and Apocaloptimist sister, thank you for this balm to my heart.
When I read the following words, I burst in tears:
“Michael didn't ‘go’ anywhere. Michael is everywhere.”
Michael would have said exactly that. Indeed, he probably did say something very much like that when reminding me the beloveds we’d lost have become one with the Tao and will always be with us, around us, and within us.
It made me think of the scene from “Harold and Maude”—one of our earliest favorite films—where Harold engraves a carnival coin with the words, “Harold loves Maude,” and gives it to her while they’re sitting on the pier together, declaring his love to her for the first time.
Maude replies, “And Maude loves Harold. This is the nicest present that I’ve received in years.”
She studies the coin, then flings it into the ocean, waving to it. When Harold looks at her, perplexed, she says, “So I’ll always know where it is.”
In February of 2022 my husband's brother died. The death was expected as he had suffered from a long illness. It was a peaceful passing. But, then, in June 2022, my husband's 33 yo son died suddenly of cardiac failure. It was after two moderna vaccines, and he got the 'rare' adverse effect of death. Shortly after his death, there was a monarch butterfly that would show up every time we went to our gate. It would fly around my husband's head. I told my husband, "that's Matt". He said "maybe". The butterfly was there every day. Then, we came out one morning and there were two butterflies. I told my husband, your brother came to say hi with Matt. My husband smiled, and said I think you might be right. These two butterflies hung around the same bush fof two months. They flew around my husband's head every time he opened our gate, and then one day they were gone. So, I believe your dragonfly was sent to you to let you know Michael spirit is still with. Love is quantum. Love is interdimensional. We are in these flesh suits, but they are free to flit in and out. Your article was very touching. Thank you for sharing your love of Michael.
Oh my goodness, NMM. I am so sorry for your double losses, but you are right in that the pharmacide of a previously healthy young person at the Biblical age of 33 is far more painful to come to terms with than the loss of someone who followed a natural decline from a long illness.
Thank you for sharing your powerfully synchronistic experience of the butterflies as well as your beautiful observations about love, NMM 🦋🦋
Dragonflies, particularly blue ones were a common sight on the river I grew up on( and in) in Connecticut. Since learning of their ancient heritage I've always had a deep respect for their durability as a form. Their flying skills are unmatched by anyone else in their kingdom. There were several patches of wild yellow irises growing along the bank by our dock and when a blue dragonfly lit on one the contrast of the yellow, green and blue was a visual treat. To me it's not surprising that irises (and dragonflies) made their way into Japanese aesthetic iconography. I have an eyeglass box made by a craftsman in Japan during the Meiji period around 1880. It is constructed of an iron base decorated in layers of two colors of gold and one of silver. The foreground scene on the back is of cranes feeding in a marsh of irises with Mt. Fuji in the distance. The birds, irises and Mt.Fuji are composed of gold. What I find interesting is that even though the actual life depicted is not even close to being gold in color, the scene still triggers a memory in life's real colors. For me at least it is an inescapable effect.
Gertrude Stein wrote that (her impressionist friends) ..." don't paint what they see, but they paint what they know is there." I think the same can be said about the things we see that paint an image for us ( of what can't be seen) just by their existence before us. When I had a relative die I found him in a cicada that landed on our fireplace in the living room. Now, prior to an article in Ladies Home Journal published ( I think) around 1910 what we call ( thanks to that article) the "living room" was the "parlor"; the place where deceased relatives were put on display. That I saw a dead entity characterized in an insect brought a sense of connection with the beyond , a signal more important and meaningful than an epitaph or memorial composed of mere words.
Your vibrant description of the blue dragonflies and wild yellow irises made me think of Van Gogh as that was his favorite color combination. And then you brought up the Japanese art, which was actually one of his sources of inspiration.
The eyeglasses box sounds exquisite, and of course, I can’t help but think of Van Gogh’s irises.
I love that Gertrude Stein quote and am surprised I hadn’t encountered it before. Your mapping of that concept to the spiritual realm and experience of the cicada is poetic. As the Patron Saint of Insects, Michael would have appreciated that.
Dear MAA, the Depth, Height and Width of Our Pain is only proportional because of Our Love... I pray these Winged Angels, God's creatures continue to bring you Comfort and Healing as Michael's Messengers to You. I Pray that the very one with His Nail Scarred Hands surround You with a Mighty Hedge of Protection to Keep you Safe and to Continue Your Healing. Yes, even when Healing takes place there will still remain a Scar for us to Remember the Love we had and shared...
Sending You Love, Aloha & Hugs MAA, kyle
❤️ 💔 💞
We truly understand that...
Yesterday was a gift...
Today is an opportunity...
Tomorrow never promised...
So we Live Life, Love Others and Leave No Regrets...
Thank you for your wise, agonizingly hard-won insights as well as for your continual display of grace, resilience, and love, Kyle. You are a beacon of kindness lighting the path for others unfortunate enough to lose cherished ones 🕯
Holy wow!! What a blessing, dear Margaret, to receive so many winged messages which, I have zero doubt, come from your beloved! He is, indeed, still there, looking after you, loving you, protecting you, shrouding you with his spirit, comforting you through your grief.
I very much doubt you’d receive these messages, or at least, be able to interpret them, if it isn’t for your tender and wounded heart being left so exposed, so open for healing. May a thousand winged messengers bring mending comfort and whisper Michael’s spirit into your heart. May your dreams be filled with your encounters and togetherness until the day your spirits are reunited in the next big adventure. ❤️
Dear Margaret Anna Alice,
I received your ‘Winged Messengers’ email this morning but didn’t have time to read it. An hour ago, a friend forwarded to me the ‘Winged Messengers’ email he received from you with a note “I saw this offering and was reminded of you and thought you might appreciate it.” My friend is aware that on January 22nd the love of my life for more than four decades took her last breath and returned to her spiritual home. The fact that you began writing this piece on my wife’s birthday, March 21, seemed a sign to me to open my heart for a message.
Please know that your loss saddens me, and I feel your pain. I am certain that you, like me, have received dozens, if not hundreds, of condolences. All are well meaning, but none can replace the essential and irreplaceable piece now missing.
I have found two poems by Ullie-Kaye worth having nearby. The first is for you. The second is for those who are willing to help you with your sadness.
The first poem is A NEARBY DISTANCE.
https://www.etsy.com/listing/1695582919/a-nearby-distance-5-x-7-poetry-card?ref=shop_home_active_12&logging_key=054889711fc960406f2d79b114c7c49889363cdd%3A1695582919
The second poem is THE ANTIDOTE.
https://www.etsy.com/listing/1413929132/the-antidote-5-x-7-poetry-card?ref=shop_home_active_46&logging_key=cb7e3ad24a28e7df75bf7deaef818419b4ebcad8%3A1413929132
I hope these poems help you find even the smallest glimmer of peace as you mourn the loss of your soulmate and best friend.
Warm regards.
Oh, dear Larry 💔😭🥀 I am so harrowingly sorry you suffered the loss of your beloved soulmate—of more than four decades, no less. You are only just over two months into this journey through grief, and yet you mustered the strength, magnanimity of spirit, and full-hearted compassion to comfort *me* in my grief. Wow.
Thank you for your astonishingly thoughtful Ullie-Kaye word gifts. As I read, “A Nearby Distance,” I began to weep. Smoky, one of our gray tabbies, was perched on my standing workstation to my right, waiting for pets. She got a worried look on her face and studied me to make sure I was okay. I petted her to reassure her they were healing tears.
“The Antidote” is marvelous advice for the comforters, and that, too, brought healing tears.
I feel honored to be entwined in synchronicity with your wife’s birthday, and I can only hope my own meditations on grief can offer you comfort in kind. If you haven’t yet read my previous essays on losing Michael, you may find solace in them or at least companionship on your own journey:
• https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/ive-lost-half-of-me-pitched-past
• https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/how-to-build-a-joyful-marriage
• https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/the-michael-project-1
• https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/eulogy-for-the-patron-saint-of-insects
• https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/the-art-of-losing
I would like to, in turn, gift you with “Love Abides,” a poem I shared in “I’ve Lost Half of Me.” I had a typewriter jewelry watch custom-made with “LOVE ABIDES” on it years ago after I lost my maternal grandma (https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/whats-in-a-name). You can see a picture of it in Michael’s eulogy post (https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/eulogy-for-the-patron-saint-of-insects).
“Love Abides”
by Barbara Pescan, from “Morning Watch: Meditations”
Often we are found in our grief and comforted
calmed by some kindness
brought alive again by beauty
that catches us undefended.
Even when the sun is most thin and far
even at the hour the storm is at its height
we can go through
renewal nests within sorrow
love abides, even beyond anger, beyond death.
We are held in an embrace invisible but infinite
moving with all creation
between wholeness and fragmentation
moving always toward the one.
Small joys and great sorrows pass
and we, with steps uncertain, move on
to whatever is next
but continually seen, heard, held
by Life infinite and remote, intimate and abiding.
Love, do not let us go. Amen.
Dear Margaret,
Thank you for taking time in your busy day to share your beautiful words, your essays about Michael, and your gift of ‘Love Abides’. Mandy & I have been following your exquisite work with great respect and awe for many years. You are a uniquely gifted writer, and we have always admired the poignant clarity of your essays.
I wonder if “A tear for a tear” will ever replace “An eye for an eye.” It did not take long for my eyes to well up while reading your reply.
Because you have shared so willingly about Michael, I’d like for you to have a small glimpse of my beloved Mandy, my best friend. After Mandy returned home, I posted on my Facebook page for the first time. My “Parting is such sweet sorrow” post can be viewed at https://bit.ly/MandyIsHome. Mandy’s obituary on the Westford Funeral Home site can be viewed at https://www.westfordfuneralhome.com/obituaries/mandy-cox.
I am honored to be having this conversation with you. As Ullie-Kaye gently suggests, I offer you compassion, connection and presence as you mourn your beloved Michael. Perhaps we face the same question: How to move forward after experiencing ‘as good as it gets’?
With love from Mandy & me,
Larry
I scarcely know how to begin writing this. My heart feels so broken, so shattered, as if Mandy were one of my own family members, and in a way, she was, being part of our karass (https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/letter-to-my-karass). I am so sad we never got to connect before it was too late, but I thank you for introducing me to this extraordinary woman, whom I feel honored to have had as a reader.
I think I went through about a quarter of a Kleenex box while reading your heartwrenching Facebook post and then watching that poignant memorial slideshow.
Mandy was—is—stunningly beautiful, inside and out, and it is clear you two managed to achieve the rarest sort of love, the kind I describe in “How to Build a Joyful Marriage”:
• https://margaretannaalice.substack.com/p/how-to-build-a-joyful-marriage
That image of her looking heavenward at the end of the slideshow gutted me but also reminded me she is now part of all that is, was, and forever will be.
Coffee, Toffee, and Dusty all looked into my wet eyes, distressed to see and hear me so distressed. I crouched down and stretched my hand out to Coffee, letting him know I am okay, and he came up and rubbed my hand, followed by Toffee and Dusty.
I noticed your beloved kitty in several of the pictures. I hope you have your own animal comforters surrounding you as I don’t know how I would have made it through this without them.
I would like to share with you another gift I received when I got up today. I was listening to Devotchka’s remastered album “How It Ends” on Spotify, and “Dearly Departed” came on. That—and the whole rest of the album, but particularly “You Love Me” and “How It Ends”—opened the floodgates of my heart, partly because of the beauty of the music itself but also because Devotchka’s music features heavily in our favorite film, “Little Miss Sunshine,” which we watched the morning our cherished cat, Boland, breathed his last breath, and whose name could not be uttered for years afterward because of how agonizingly painful it was to both of us, but especially Michael, whose fragile heart could not bear the grief:
• https://youtu.be/tJTRFl77F6g?si=GWxe3jMuE19qxeYL&t=24
• https://genius.com/Devotchka-dearly-departed-lyrics
“Dearly Departed”
by Devotchka
Sweetheart
How I miss your heart
Beating next to mine
The right words
Were always hard to find
When all our time was fine
When darling you were mine, all mine
And I know
I know you had no choice
But I how I miss your voice
Singing right with mine
Flesh of my flesh
Soul of my soul
Come back home
All this darkness cannot hurt us
’Cause they made you from the light
Here on birthplace, don’t be nervous
You will make it through this night
Sweetheart
How I miss your heart
Beating next to mine
Flesh of my flesh
Soul of my soul
Come back home
Margaret, thank you for the gift of DEARLY DEPARTED. I will now need to listen to the other Devotchka songs you listed. And thank you for taking time to know Mandy... and to share this little dialogue with me. I fully realize you need to "get back to work" so I will say goodbye for now to free up your time. That said, I feel closely connected to you and Michael, as if your souls have known our souls (Mandy & mine) before we chose to lower our vibrations and assume physical form.
I also feel that you and I are on a very similar path having lost our best friends and soulmates. If your time allows, I would like to continue to offer you compassion, connection and presence as you mourn your beloved Michael and as you choose how you go on from here. Because I am a subscriber, I believe you have my email address. I will also send a reply to your Substack email address with my contact info just in case.
During our nearly 42 years of marriage, Mandy & I were fortunate to have had nine cats choose to live with us. We lost our last one in 2019. At the moment, I am enjoying the company of old and new human friends on hiking trails, at our home, at restaurants, and at the movies. I am fortunate to have caring people in my life who help mask my sadness like clouds hide the sun, if only for a while during the day. From dinner time on, unbearable sadness invariably returns.
I look forward to reading and supporting your glorious writing for many years to come. If you have time and would like to share your ups and downs as we each move forward on our unique paths, I would love to continue this dialogue via email (or even by phone).
Thank you for the gift of your time! It has been a pleasure getting to know you and Michael.
With love from Mandy & me,
Larry
Dear Larry,
I have been quietly reading your conversation here with Margaret, feeling such sorrow for you both, and awe for the depth of love and eloquence with which you both share such vulnerability and sorrow. I read your beautiful FB post and also watched your moving slideshow tribute to Mandy, and I agree with Margaret, she is absolutely stunning, and I ached deeply for you as I watched.
I also had to let you know that I instantly recognized the fall colors of the lake photos in the slideshow as decidedly northeast, as I spent my summers growing up in the Adirondacks, on a lake very similar to yours, so I felt even more connection to you both as a result. If you feel comfortable sharing where your lake is, I would be very interested to know. (Email can work too if you prefer more privacy.) Sharing a home on a lake like that becomes part of your soul in a way that can not be explained unless you have lived it, so I understand personally a little more of your beautiful history together.
May you continue to meet with Mandy in your dreams, until you can be in each other's arms again.
Sending you many wishes for peace,
Cynthia
Hi Cynthia,
Thank you for joining our conversation. And thank you for taking time to learn about my sweet Mandy. It is a pleasure to meet you. Your wish that I continue to meet Mandy in my dreams is greatly appreciated. I still feel as connected to Mandy as I did when she was here with me.
Regarding the lake photos, while I grew up in New York and New Jersey and was living in D.C. when I met Mandy, we moved to Charlotte, NC when we were married. One summer, we vacationed at Lake Toxaway at 3,000 feet elevation in the North Carolina mountains. Lake Toxaway (or "redbird" / "Cardinal" in the local native American language) is about 50 miles southwest of Asheville and 15 miles west of Brevard.
We initially purchased a lakefront condo there, and then later a lake house after we sold our home in Charlotte. Lake Toxaway is unique in that the 640-acre lake is privately owned by the homeowners association, which encompasses roughly 9,000 acres, including three waterfalls, and a country club with golf and tennis. Only property owners have access to the lake, so the lake is quite peaceful. Jet skis and jet boats are not allowed.
Below are links to (1) Wikipedia regarding the fascinating history of Lake Toxaway and (2) The Lake Toxaway Company, which re-developed the lake after the dam burst in 1916.
Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Toxaway
Lake Toxaway Company
https://laketoxaway.com/our-area/
Cynthia, I had seen previously that your Nature's Heart Healing substack page is "Coming Soon" and look forward to reading more about a topic that is very important to me now. I believe I subscribed yesterday.
It is wonderful to meet you and Margaret's other friends here. It's been difficult to find friends where we now live in Washington State who share a similar worldview. Margaret's extended community is heaven sent.
Warm regards,
Larry
I'm staggered by the number and depth of synchrodestinies that have enveloped you, Margaret. As Tereza said, there's no denying this. How you have chosen to interpret them is equally staggering in its fragile beauty. I'm so honored to have looped myself in somehow, to your and Michael's poignant story of love neverending. Blessings of light and love to you both as you continue your process of grieving, dear one 🙏🏼❤️🌟
Your words, dear Mary, feel like a lyrical embrace.
I am still gobsmacked by your dragonfly visitation on Michael’s birthday–funeral day. But I never would have known about it if you hadn’t chosen to write about it … and to take that particular photo … and if I hadn’t happened to study the image more closely than I almost ever do and notice the date. All of the intersecting variables that had to align with such precision truly boggles the mind.
Thank you for your sensitive soul, my Apocaloptimistic friend.
And “synchrodestinies” is brilliant! Did you coin that yourself?
From the time the dragonfly landed on Michael's ring, I was hooked. Maybe one of these could be a coincidence, but come on ...
When I look at the photos of you with your beautiful friends, I'm just struck by how much I love your face. There's something so iconic and essentially you about your look. It's a vulnerability. And when I read your description of Michael, 'childlike innocence' leapt out at me. I always think of him as the patron saint of insects.
I now have a stained glass dragonfly from Ukraine, thanks to Etsy. I got chills that my post coincided with your dragonfly visitation. And Mary's with Michael's birthday! Really, there's no denying this.
The advice to be gentle with yourself is good, Margaret. The blue wings of the dragonfly were so beautiful, I wondered if it was a stock photo. And then to see the dragonfly disassembled. I think that message is that the essence is always there, the form is ephemeral. Michael keeps coming back and back and back, just not in the form you so dearly miss.
Thank you for sharing this, my sister, and for including me in your sweet homage.
Your profound comment is a miniature post in itself, Tereza, ripe with philosophical, spiritual, and psychological meanings. Thank you for your tenderheartedness, Tereza, as well as your Apocaloptimistic friendship.
I knew I was going to need space and quiet for this post and I was right about that. This is such a gift; a reorientation, a prayer and a song of love, all in one. Thank you for posting this.
Being in Nature has been my go-to for staying balanced and grounded and in love with life, no matter what is happening in the world personally or collectively. It anchors me and I'm very familiar with Nature's creatures and that they are always communicating to us. Of course we have to pay attention and open to it.
Reading this I thought - Michael didn't 'go' anywhere. Michael is everywhere.
Nothing is what we thought is was - as we've been discovering - and that's really good because it's so much better than what we were told and shown. As this post beautifully expresses.
"My heart remains open to Mystery, and I am content to trust without knowing, feel without understanding, love without certainty."
Remarkably, out of this deep grief, we are watching you transform into an even better version of YOU - which was already impressive and inspiring - and which by extension (for those of us fortunate enough to know you) better versions of ourselves.
Thank you, dearest Margaret. 🙏 🌸💖 You make us all better humans.
Dearest Kathleen and Apocaloptimist sister, thank you for this balm to my heart.
When I read the following words, I burst in tears:
“Michael didn't ‘go’ anywhere. Michael is everywhere.”
Michael would have said exactly that. Indeed, he probably did say something very much like that when reminding me the beloveds we’d lost have become one with the Tao and will always be with us, around us, and within us.
It made me think of the scene from “Harold and Maude”—one of our earliest favorite films—where Harold engraves a carnival coin with the words, “Harold loves Maude,” and gives it to her while they’re sitting on the pier together, declaring his love to her for the first time.
Maude replies, “And Maude loves Harold. This is the nicest present that I’ve received in years.”
She studies the coin, then flings it into the ocean, waving to it. When Harold looks at her, perplexed, she says, “So I’ll always know where it is.”
• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUcthgfYDVA
Thank you, MAA.
In many ways we are of like minds, and like hearts. That movie and scene are favorites for me too. (Probably time to rewatch!)
We can't believe it when we're immersed in our temporal forms, but we can't really lose anything real, or anything truly ours.
When life challenges, one of the things I like to remind myself of and so repeat :
All is deeply well.💖 XOX
In February of 2022 my husband's brother died. The death was expected as he had suffered from a long illness. It was a peaceful passing. But, then, in June 2022, my husband's 33 yo son died suddenly of cardiac failure. It was after two moderna vaccines, and he got the 'rare' adverse effect of death. Shortly after his death, there was a monarch butterfly that would show up every time we went to our gate. It would fly around my husband's head. I told my husband, "that's Matt". He said "maybe". The butterfly was there every day. Then, we came out one morning and there were two butterflies. I told my husband, your brother came to say hi with Matt. My husband smiled, and said I think you might be right. These two butterflies hung around the same bush fof two months. They flew around my husband's head every time he opened our gate, and then one day they were gone. So, I believe your dragonfly was sent to you to let you know Michael spirit is still with. Love is quantum. Love is interdimensional. We are in these flesh suits, but they are free to flit in and out. Your article was very touching. Thank you for sharing your love of Michael.
Oh my goodness, NMM. I am so sorry for your double losses, but you are right in that the pharmacide of a previously healthy young person at the Biblical age of 33 is far more painful to come to terms with than the loss of someone who followed a natural decline from a long illness.
Thank you for sharing your powerfully synchronistic experience of the butterflies as well as your beautiful observations about love, NMM 🦋🦋
MAA my heart goes out to you🕊️
Thank you for your wingèd wishes, SpenceMarcel 🦉
Dragonflies, particularly blue ones were a common sight on the river I grew up on( and in) in Connecticut. Since learning of their ancient heritage I've always had a deep respect for their durability as a form. Their flying skills are unmatched by anyone else in their kingdom. There were several patches of wild yellow irises growing along the bank by our dock and when a blue dragonfly lit on one the contrast of the yellow, green and blue was a visual treat. To me it's not surprising that irises (and dragonflies) made their way into Japanese aesthetic iconography. I have an eyeglass box made by a craftsman in Japan during the Meiji period around 1880. It is constructed of an iron base decorated in layers of two colors of gold and one of silver. The foreground scene on the back is of cranes feeding in a marsh of irises with Mt. Fuji in the distance. The birds, irises and Mt.Fuji are composed of gold. What I find interesting is that even though the actual life depicted is not even close to being gold in color, the scene still triggers a memory in life's real colors. For me at least it is an inescapable effect.
Gertrude Stein wrote that (her impressionist friends) ..." don't paint what they see, but they paint what they know is there." I think the same can be said about the things we see that paint an image for us ( of what can't be seen) just by their existence before us. When I had a relative die I found him in a cicada that landed on our fireplace in the living room. Now, prior to an article in Ladies Home Journal published ( I think) around 1910 what we call ( thanks to that article) the "living room" was the "parlor"; the place where deceased relatives were put on display. That I saw a dead entity characterized in an insect brought a sense of connection with the beyond , a signal more important and meaningful than an epitaph or memorial composed of mere words.
Do you see what I mean M....a?
Your vibrant description of the blue dragonflies and wild yellow irises made me think of Van Gogh as that was his favorite color combination. And then you brought up the Japanese art, which was actually one of his sources of inspiration.
The eyeglasses box sounds exquisite, and of course, I can’t help but think of Van Gogh’s irises.
I love that Gertrude Stein quote and am surprised I hadn’t encountered it before. Your mapping of that concept to the spiritual realm and experience of the cicada is poetic. As the Patron Saint of Insects, Michael would have appreciated that.
Dear MAA, the Depth, Height and Width of Our Pain is only proportional because of Our Love... I pray these Winged Angels, God's creatures continue to bring you Comfort and Healing as Michael's Messengers to You. I Pray that the very one with His Nail Scarred Hands surround You with a Mighty Hedge of Protection to Keep you Safe and to Continue Your Healing. Yes, even when Healing takes place there will still remain a Scar for us to Remember the Love we had and shared...
Sending You Love, Aloha & Hugs MAA, kyle
❤️ 💔 💞
We truly understand that...
Yesterday was a gift...
Today is an opportunity...
Tomorrow never promised...
So we Live Life, Love Others and Leave No Regrets...
Thank you for your wise, agonizingly hard-won insights as well as for your continual display of grace, resilience, and love, Kyle. You are a beacon of kindness lighting the path for others unfortunate enough to lose cherished ones 🕯
Sending you love, aloha, and hugs back 💓🌸🤗
Please... with my regards... and with love
Close your eyes and listen to one of my favorite artists and Albums of all time
-
Wim Mertens - A man with no fortune but with a name to come
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maQOGf-PNsw&list=PLrGPrqLwzYmGFXv3WgO4XVBEDdPYNGuKW
Casting No Shadow 11:24
A Tiels Leis 8:07
Hirose 2:27
You See 14:49
Multiple 12 4:56
Naviamente 3:55
I’m listening to your heart-soothing musical gift and will now close my eyes to savor it. Thank you, Fritz.
Pleasure... glad you like it!
Michael is the Tao; the Tao is Michael.
Holy wow!! What a blessing, dear Margaret, to receive so many winged messages which, I have zero doubt, come from your beloved! He is, indeed, still there, looking after you, loving you, protecting you, shrouding you with his spirit, comforting you through your grief.
I very much doubt you’d receive these messages, or at least, be able to interpret them, if it isn’t for your tender and wounded heart being left so exposed, so open for healing. May a thousand winged messengers bring mending comfort and whisper Michael’s spirit into your heart. May your dreams be filled with your encounters and togetherness until the day your spirits are reunited in the next big adventure. ❤️
Thank you so much, cherished Apocaloptimist sister Tonika! 😭💞🕊
There has already been another cascade of them since posting this. Will share details in the post I’m preparing to publish shortly.
Love it!!