i just don't want to wake up and realize that maybe I'M the dead one..(aka Don't wanna be Bruce Willis.)

I have an inordinate number of cousins. (This is what happens when your mother was one of nine children.) In fact, my grandfather always claimed that each time he hung his pants on the bedpost his wife had another child.

Most of my family members have discovered my blog. Oh sure, I might email links to them EVERY SINGLE DAY in an attempt to bring them into my crazy life, but I’ve come to find out that they actually read them. (Who knew?)

My cousin Cassie is eleven years younger than me. She has navigated through some rough waters in her life, and has come through the rapids with a smile on her face and a lovely family to show for it. Each time I see her she is full of joy and laughter, and I am reminded of the wonderful loving spirit that weaves its way through my mother’s family.

I recently posted the story about our Baba, and perhaps some of my visits with dead people. (M. Night Shamalamadingdong has yet to contact me in regards to his next movie.) I don’t talk about these visits with my extended family, I simply write about them for a billion strangers to read.) I’ve often wondered if I am the only one with this little gift from my mother’s side of the family.

I don’t wonder anymore.

I received an email from Cassie last week. It said simply this:

Vodka….I couldn’t let this day go by without telling you how much joy I get from reading your blog, and seeing those great old pictures. I am flooded by great memories from my childhood, and it always reminds me about the family and how much I miss everyone!

I don’t think I ever told you the story about the night seven years ago that I gave birth to Sam. I was rushed by ambulance to the Smith and Wesson Hospital – it was about a half hour from our house- and my husband couldn’t go with me. The doctor and nurse had to be in the ambulance in case I delivered, and there wasn’t room. Sam was very early, and mom was out of town and couldn't be with me. (I’m not sure if you know that I am horrible in stressful situations. I don’t handle pain or stress very well at all.)

When I was in the ambulance there were two other people with me. They kept telling me to breathe slowly and that everything would be okay.

It was Baba, and your mother - Aunt AnnaBelle.

I never, ever told anyone except my mother, for fear that they would think I was crazy! I have been so grateful to them for being with me that night when I needed them the most. I just felt you needed to know that.

Love you!! Cassie.

Enough said. (Pass the tissues.)


Lila said...

Ok, so I ended up having to read the story twice. The first time I read it when she said "Smith & Wesson Hospital" I thought it was going to be a joke and was getting ready for a great punchline. Once I realized it was true I had to reread it and unfortunately some of the tenderness of the story was lost on me. I'm such an ass.

Brian Miller said...


mine read mine for a while...now they dont mention it to me anymore...maybe it was something i said...hmmm

Lynn MacDonald said...


That gentleman's lady said...

How lovely!

As Cape Cod Turns said...

That is so very cool!

Anonymous said...

Hey, maybe we're distant cousins! :-) Love this story, of course. xoxo

Erin Janda Rawlings said...

Visits like that are very special and remind me that our loved ones are not gone, just exisiting somewhere else. Beautiful post!

Rima said...

So awesome.

I kind of want to be in your family, too.

Unknown said...

I love these stories. I could soak them up with a biscuit! Souls reaching out across the ether. I just get the chills ( the good kind)

Leslie said...

<3 this.

Cheryl D. said...

I love, love, love these kind of stories! They're so cool!

So. Cal. Gal said...

When I was in high school, my favorite uncle was killed in an accident and I was devastated.

I had a psychology class taught by a woman who thought she was a witch (I'm not kidding). She was a BIG proponent of "dream wishing - using visualization to relax" (aka taking a nap). One day, I dreamt of my uncle who said he was happy and at peace...and I could've sworn he was hugging me.

Notes From ABroad said...

Weeping, smiling ... love

DawnA said...

How very nice. Sounds like your Mom continues to be a wonderfully caring person.

Joanne Noragon said...

It happens like this because the good people never go away.

bridgetstraub.com said...

Although I have not actually seen my mom since her death 20 years ago, I will sometimes walk into a room and feel her presence as well as smell her perfume.

Working Mommy said...

I hate that people feel they can't share things like this because they might be seen as "crazy"...I mean, don't we all have our own level of crazy?? Such a great story! (My kids call my mom Baba)


RottenMom said...

I meant to comment on this the other day when I read it in my reader. I was knee deep in packing the girl for college. I'm really glad that you share these stories with us. Makes me not feel so weird when I smell my Gram around me. Usually when I am in a bad way, she's there. XO

Anonymous said...

i love this story....hopefully annabelle reads this i';m sure...can't wait for this new addition....couldn't have asked for a better family to be involved in....love you all....love your colums deb....hope to see you soon!

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