Posted by Carol Roach on May 06, 2001 at 16:23:37:
I was raised by my grandmother. Neither my mom or dad had wanted me when I was born. My mom was single and said that she would put me out for adoption rather than keep me.
In those days being a young unwed mother was a disgrace. Strangely it was my dad that brought me home to his mother and I was immediately accepted and raised by her. I was so loved and protected by her that her own children had often felt that she loved me more than them, but I know it was not true. It was just that I needed more love then them being ignored by both my parents.
As I grew up I knew who my parents were for sure, but my father stopped seeing me when I was five since he married another woman who didn't like our family. My mom was around sporatically to take me out somewhere now and then but I never felt comfortable with her. My grandmother was my ma and that is what I called her even though I knew the difference.
My "ma" protected me all through my life and she loved me like no one else ever could.
My grandmother never left the house in the years that I was growing up. She was severely depressed, being alone herself and having lived a terrible life of hardship. Her link with the outside world was the telephone and the TV.
One of my fondest memories of the times we had spent together was sitting down and watching Billy Graham's crusades together and I always prayed that my ma would admit that she loved the lord.
She neither encouraged me or discouraged me to go to church. However, I met a group of friends who were churchgoers and from the age of 9 I started faithfully attending sunday school at a mission for about 6 years. After that I dont really know what happened but I seemed to have drifted away from church life.
I married and had a son. Both my husband and I believed in the Lord and we started to go to church every Sunday and then somehow we drifted away from it as well.
In 1980 I was alone with my son. I had just divorced and my grandmother had passed away at the same time. I felt totally alone and isolated.
After the funeral I wanted to know more than anything else that my beloved ma was alright. I wanted to know that she was in heaven and that all the years we spent watching Billy Graham together had meaning and now she was with her maker.
I needed to know so badly that she was happy. It was almost an obession and I prayed for a sign, any sign, to know that she was okay.
I had a recurring dream at night where she would come back to me to tell me something but I could not hear the words and I could not reach out and touch her. The barrier between life and the afterworld was still apparent even in my dream state. The dream would only serve to torment me further.
So strong was this need to know about her happiness that I decided to go to church with my young son (age 4) and pray to God for a sign that she was okay. I went to church for the first time in years and just sat quietly in the pew listening to the sermon.
I had no clue what that sermon was going to be and I don't even remember today what it was all about except for one statement that the minister made within the sermon. He said "and all of you out there who are worried about your love ones whom have passed on do not worry for they are happy". I couldn't believe it I got my sign!
After that time in church I felt better. First of all, I had my sign and secondly, the dreams of my ma's failed attempt at communication had ceased for she had found her first means of getting across to me. I began to talk to her in prayer and each time that I spoke to her I would touch the emerald ring that she had left for me. It comforted me. I always wore it and still do for it is a constant reminder that she is with me now and forever and she is looking out for my best interest and keeping me safe from harms way.
Not long after her passing, we had a transit strike here in our city. Montreal is a city that enjoys four seasons but having a public transit strike in the dead of winter is not a pleasant thing. Since I was now divorced I could not enjoy the luxury of staying home to wait it out so I found myself freezing on the corner of a busy intersection waiting for a car to offer me a ride. Even while I was freezing and knew that others had to do the same thing, I was afraid of getting into a car with a stranger.
My ma had often told me about the dangers, but I was desperate. My options were limited, it was either go home and lose the days pay which I could not afford, attempt to walk to work and risk frostbite or accept a ride and pray to God that I would be safe. I choose the latter. However, the cars were not stopping for me and I was getting colder and colder. So I decided to touch the ring and asked my ma to help me. Within 30 seconds of touching the emerald ring a car stopped for me and drove me to work.
It was then that I realized that my ma was my guardian angel. She protected me in life and she was protecting me in death as well.
There has been numerous other times that I asked for my ma's help when I was stuck or in a jam and each and everytime all I had to do was touch that ring and, low and behold, I got either what I wanted or a compromise that I could live with. When you think of it, heavenly wisdom was the best choice after all.
Carol Roach, winterose706@hotmail.com
Carol Roach has a Masters in Counselling Psychology, loves people, animals and writing. She has published some articles in varrious e-zines and plans to write a lot more.