About prayer - a continuing topic of my thoughts

Sometimes I wonder about prayers.  And do they really work.  I pray every morning, it's the second thing I do after saying thank you and I am grateful for my nights sleep.
Prayer.  I sometimes feel not sure, but I do it every day.  And then recently, in my bereavement group, I listened to the prayers in a different way.
I realized that what saved my heart in the first days of Bartholemew's passing were prayers.
I could lean into them.  I could hold on to these words of healing, like a soothing balm on my soul that was trying to make sense of this tragedy.  I could lean into a knowing that was greater than I am.
At that time every Wednesday, a prayer lady would call and pray with me.  And I depended on that call.  I depended on those prayers.  Because that was all I had.
There was nothing in my arsenal of living that prepared me for Bartholemew taking his life.
Nothing.
So the prayers gave me a measure of peace, I wanted to live in that field forever as if it could take away the pain and the knowing that this tragedy of trauma has happened to me.
For many weeks I had a prayer call every Wednesday.  And I raced home to sit in a chair take as deep  a breath as I could to receive the words of god, of peace beyond human understanding, and all knowing.
Now I don't have those prayer calls.  But I remember how valuable they were to me.
And now, I pray.  I pray for myself, for Bartholemew's life eternal, Miles, his father, my friends, people who upset me...I pray for everyone.
I wonder if they feel the prayers surrounding them in love, in healing, in compassion, in grace, in forgivenesss....I offer them with no expectation.  They help me to heal.
And the words are carried on the waves of the vibration that we cannot see with our eyes but exists.

Little signs from my son -

Little signs from the eternal life....
It just happens that when I am really wanting connection with my son, I get it.
For many days when leaving for work, I would see trucks with the letters BD on them.
Bartholemew DiModica.....I at first didn't like to see them.  It hurt too much, and then I began to realize that it was a sign from him....
And I began to see little things...angel feathers, money I would find on the ground.
And I always say thank you, even if it hurts.
A few weeks ago I ordered pick up from Veggie Grill.  And they didn't get my order right.  So I fussed and the manager gave me a card for a free entree.  I took it and kept going.
I looked at it the other day and saw BART on it....
I didn't know what to make of this. I knew what it was, a sign that he is still watching over me, but jeez, Wow, BART.  His name as a code on a card...
Life is more than mysterious to me, this is giving me some divine guidance and to put my trust in what I cannot see, but know is there, the angels, god, my son.
I am being watched over......and this is my faith.

Questions for myself - Who will I be?

I have questions for myself.
I am at a place where I can ask questions.
Who am I becoming?
Who will I be when I don't have pain in my body.
Who will I be?
I am afraid that if I don't have the pain I will forget him.  I want his name to be remembered.
I want to remember how much joy he and his brother brought me.
I want to remember how much I loved being his mother.
I don't want to forget.
And so I ask myself the question and wait for the answer.
This is really on my mind as I take steps to open myself up to the world.
I open myself up to talk about my life, to say to the world this is what happened to me and I got broken down....and I work everyday to pick myself up.
My relationship with myself, my relationship with God are the areas that I am really taking a deep dive.  I am able to peel back a layer that I couldn't look at before for fear of never coming out of it.
My relationship with my son in his life eternal is one that I am also looking into on a deeper level.
So the question is "Who will I be when I don't have pain in my body?"

writing letters to my son

One of the things I did to heal myself, or at least to work to give myself some peace was to write letters to Bartholemew.  I would write one everyday.
And sometimes I just said the same thing over and over and over again.
I love you, I miss you.
All of the therapists working with me recommended the writing, and I have a huge thick pile of letters.

Prayer - another idea forms

Today I had the idea for another book.
I realized that the glue that keeps holding me together is prayer.
Everyday, for the last hundreds of days, I begin with a prayer.  I begin with an oath of healing.
It holds me by focusing my mind on what I cannot see, feel or touch, but  know to be there.
And it is by reaching into that part of my self as a spiritual being having a physical experience that I lift myself up and connect to something greater than me.
And so for a few minutes I am not of this world but belong to the universe, to the highest good for me, for everyone I care about and love.
The focus of a prayer is what a workshop I am taking beginning this tuesday will be about.
I am interested in learning more about prayer.  The power that prayers have on someone.
The power that they have on me.  I love being prayed on.  In many of my healing sessions, we pray in before I talk, and then we pray when my session is over.
In the first weeks of Bartholemew's passing, I had a prayer practitioner call me each week.  We set up a time and she prayed with me, let me talk a little.  That was like a life line for me.  I depended on those calls.  I was so shakey.  I was the walking wounded, I still am, but it is better in many senses that I have had so many prayers that I love prayer and I pray for people as well.  I pray for everyone that I love, everyone who makes me mad and hurts me, and in that instance, it lessens the sting of the hurt.
I put everything in God's hands.  I put everything in the Goddesses hands, the ancestors hands and then let go.
I love to do mantras, they also focus my mind, they keep me from going off the deep end of hurt, pain and frustration and anger.
I ask for forgiveness in my prayers.  I ask for me and for everyone that I know.
Prayer collaged prayers.

I bought a website

I bought a website....I bought a domain name, I am moving. 
I am making my story visible.
I am available for more good than I can possibility imagine.
Grace of God.
gracegrievingandgratitude is mine....

Staying in the process

Today, I got to work on edits for my book, and to add a few pieces.
It was good.  I like looking at it.  I like reading it.  I like that it tells my story of healing.
That the healing will be going on for the rest of my life.  But that I am engaged in the process and not running from it or hiding from it.
It is scary and one thing I have learned about myself is that I don't run from things anymore.
Not much can really hurt me anymore, stun me with stupidity, but not hurt me.
My friend Krysia gave me good edits.  That was the most helpful.  She read it, she looked at it and she gave me really honest helpful feedback.
My heart feels a little lighter.  I feel like I have accomplished something meaningful for me.
I don't feel like I am boggled down.
I am really understanding that there is no perfect anything.  We each have our own baggage from who we are and how we are in the world.  It is hard that we trigger each other, sometimes not aware that we are doing it.  Or aware and don't care.  And that is life.  Everyday, every damn day.
The world isn't even close to perfect, and now more things are brought forward that need to change in the world.  Systemic racism is real.  It needs to change.  White privileged is real, it needs to shift and change.  And everyone having a smart phone will be the call to that.  Seeing that it takes nothing for something to go viral is going to bring consciousness, maybe not a complete change, but awareness.
And being called out on it.

Reflection and Regret

Reflection and regret

It is hard to not think back and wonder if there was something you missed, something that you could of done better when your child has taken their life.  And you can't go back.
It is important to really try not to second guess oneself.
I am working on that.
Do I have regrets of things that I wish I had said? Yes, would it of changed anything?  I don't know.
Would I have more peace?  I don't know.
It is hard to have peace in a situation like this.
If there had been a pattern of some sort to chart or mark.
I remember once he said he was lonely, in high school.  I said when you get to college that's where you will make your life long friends.  It was hard to be at a wealthy private school and be the scholarship kid.  That didn't feel comfortable inviting anyone to the three bedroom apartment we lived in that was filled with cockroaches.  I get it, I didn't invite anyone over.  They were always trying to evict us at a certain point, so there was a lot of discomfort.  And his dad didn't make it easier or better for us.
So I have been told to have no regrets.  And yet in order for me to get on the other side of the pain I am carrying in my body, I have to face things.  So I can set myself free.
I did my best.  I loved beyond the moon and stars.
Was this the story that was written for us?  Cause this is how it has played out.
Looking for meaning, finding my way.

Today finding peace - feeling the feelings

Today, I felt some peace.
This time of year is so filled with emotion.
This time of year is filled with dread at the upcoming passage of time.
I am working for the first time in two years. It feels scary and it feels safe to know that I am having
purpose.
I just have to keep doing my work on my self, keep praying, keep doing the work of looking at things
that I don't want to look at.
I just cracked myself open on the word suicide. I am processing what that means to
me.  Because it has directly affected my life.  So I am cracking open and tiptoeing around that word, looking at it from a distance, and not ignoring how much it has affected and hurt me.  It hurts my legs, and my poor eating habits didn't help it.
So now I am looking at the word and feeling the feelings.
It is interesting that grief and pain can take so long to peel back the layers and feel and process all the feelings.

A quiet Sunday morning - a marker

Today I woke up and felt tired.  Usually I am a ready to go person.
I put Agape on and just listened.  And I heard my answers to how to solve a painting dilemma.
God.  Simply God.
And I realized that if I just keep myself centered on God, which it is easy to get wobbly about, I could make it through.
I am reaching out to my brother Joey.  That I have never consciously reached out to.  A little judgey.
This morning, this sweet overcast Sunday morning, is a day of quiet.  My father passed on this day four years ago.  A marker.
I am being quiet.  I am sending love out into the universe for where ever he is that he receive the love he didn't receive as a child.  That he receive the guidance he didn't receive and that light surround him on his way.
And a space lifts me some what up and I feel a little lighter.

Musing on a morning of reflection

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my fathers passing.  He passed a month before my son.
My brother went to Arlington to pay his respects.  I will pay mine from here.

I am grappling with a word right now.  The word is suicide.  I am working to take it's power away.
And to accept what is.  It is a loaded word.
I have been painting and writing a book of my healing journey.  It has been a positive process.  I read the words I have written, there is much that isn't said.  But there is much that is.  My idea for the book is that it is a picture book with words that go with it for adults.  For me.  One thing I remember is I could not focus for long on a book on anything, grief, healing, prayers, it had to be short, simple and not complicated.  My emotions were on overload, I could only take so much in.  So my book is a picture book of my art.  That tells my story.

My personal journal tells the story.  I write notes and letters to my son.  I used to write them everyday.  I would come home from work and write him a letter.  I write letters to people that I am working to find peace with.  I write with less frequency, not really the best thing for me, but I am aware of that.

Usually I write the letters after I have had an intuition or moved to a place of tenderness or forgiveness, for myself and that person.  Usually that happens after I have been in a kundalini yoga class and meditated and chanted and been lifted up spiritually.  My heart open, my consciousness open I let go of something that I don't need to hold on to anymore.
It comes down to forgiveness work.
I am in a daily practice of forgiveness.  When I do this practice, I find myself to be a little lighter.
I am forgiving myself and others.