My Dead Relative Went to Heaven and All I Got Was This Lousy Dime

I spotted a dime on my walk this morning and I stopped to pick it up because a.) I felt bendy enough to do so, b.) I was in a waste not/want not frame of mind and c.) I thought it might be a message from my dead father.  Or mother or, for that matter, dog.

I’ve read that those who once lived and once loved us can learn, once they get to the other side, to manipulate matter.  It’s not easy, though, so mostly they leave small things in our paths to help us find them and to let us know they are watching over us.  Things like pennies and dimes and the odd ring or beads.

This makes total sense when you think about all the little things out there lying around, all the pennies and dimes and tiny rocks.  They didn’t just get there by themselves.  They are gifts from heaven.  So when I see one, I pick it up and say thanks.  It usually sounds something like this:

Thanks Dad.  Or Mom,  if that was you.  Or Sam or Uncle Ken….Tony?  Anyway, thanks all youse guys.  Sure do miss you. 

It’s just a dime, but that dime, it raises a lot of questions, assuming a dead person did just leave it there for me to find.  Questions like, is it really here for me?  I mean, I spotted it, but is that the way it’s supposed to work?  Am I stealing someone else’s dime?  And how am I supposed to know who it’s from?   Do  dimes always mean it’s from Dad?  I would  think he’d leave quarters because he was always collecting those new state quarters, but maybe he can only push around dimes right now.  Dad, if you are listening, can you send me a quarter?  Georgia would be nice.  I don’t have that one.  But I’m not picky, you can choose.

My parents died a few months apart and for a long time afterwards I kept finding these little green beads everywhere.  Those things were worse than the barbie shoe infestation that we suffered when my girls were little, but not as bad as the lego infestation of TWLITB’s youth.  That sounds ungrateful, I know.  It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but dimes are a lot more useful so I’m happy they’ve exhausted their green bead supply.

After my father died, my youngest, who was three, spotted a black cat in our backyard and told me it was my father.  You can bet the hairs will raise on the back of your neck when your toddler announces the presence of your dead relative in casual conversation.  The cat kept showing up, so we named it Butter (after my father).  We started feeding Butter because we thought he was a stray.  Naturally, Butter started hanging out at our house a lot more often.  Then one day, my son kicked his ball over our fence and when he and his dad went to find it, they met Mike.  Mike and his  cat, Lucy.  Lucy looked a lot like Butter.  As it turns out, my father apparently inhabits the body of a cat named Lucy.  Now we call her Lucy Butter.

I feel really badly because I’ve lost that dime.  I can’t find it anywhere.  I guess it wasn’t mine, after all.  I was a vehicle for the dime, which  is kind of creepy.  If you are out and about today, and you spot me doing back flips down some stairs, please call the priest.

Chicken out

Advertisements

  6 comments for “My Dead Relative Went to Heaven and All I Got Was This Lousy Dime

  1. July 3, 2014 at 3:45 am

    I never understood the workings of the 'pennies from heaven' deal. Now that I do, I can see why my dearly departeds are not dropping loonies and toonies in my path (Canadian $1 and $2 coins). Those suckers are just too heavy.

    Yes, BRRR about your three year old making a comment like that. Did you ever figure out what prompted it?

    Like

  2. July 4, 2014 at 2:34 am

    Hi Jenny, loonie toonie-I love that. Not sure where those comments came from but it is probably him processing stories we've told him about people he never got the chance to know. If he started seeing dead people I've never talked about, I'd be concerned:-)

    Like

  3. July 4, 2014 at 2:48 pm

    Jenny-guess what I found today? Georgia quarter. Not kidding.

    Like

  4. July 6, 2014 at 12:20 am

    Okay, now I have goosebumps. We just don't know, do we? I say take it the most positive, comforting way possible, and embrace that feeling with all your heart.

    Like

  5. July 6, 2014 at 12:58 am

    This comment has been removed by the author.

    Like

  6. July 6, 2014 at 1:40 pm

    Nope, we don't. Thanks:-)

    Like

Your turn...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

One chicken. So many roads.

Style Splash

STYLE HAS NO AGE LIMIT

Bella Rum

Life on the Pasture

I'm Sick and So Are You

What illness taught me about how truly warped we all are

http://myinnerchick.com/

One chicken. So many roads.

The Way I Sew It

One chicken. So many roads.

B.I. Redux

One chicken. So many roads.

Cup on the Bus

One chicken. So many roads.

idioglossia: the blog

Share yourself: problems, joys, secrets, ideas. We're listening.

Examining the Odd

literature, visual art, music and film

Think Stew

One chicken. So many roads.

Procrastinating Donkey

One chicken. So many roads.

Trainride Of The Enigmas

One chicken. So many roads.

Genial Misanthrope

One chicken. So many roads.

injaynesworld

One chicken. So many roads.

The AC is On

One chicken. So many roads.

La Tejana

One chicken. So many roads.

Pearl, Why You Little...

One chicken. So many roads.

%d bloggers like this: