Month: May 2022

Weezie plays Wordle

My favorite time of day to play Wordle is first thing in the morning when I’m still resting in bed. The world is quiet, except for a few birds and sometimes soft rain.

One morning, I picked up my phone to unlock it. The first thing that appeared was an ad for a card game called “OuiSi.” Oh! How cute! I thought. OuiSi = “Yes” in French, “Yes” in Spanish. OuiSi, pronounced Wee See. Oh! Weezie! My mother’s nickname!

Her birthname was Eloise, but everyone called her “Weezie.”

I felt this was a sign from her just like the one on the way back from her memorial several years ago. I was riding in a car with my cousin and sister to my cousin’s house where my sister and I would spend the night before heading home.

Shortly after the memorial, I had asked my mom for a sign that she was still around.

During the long ride downstate, I’d forgotten about it. We chatted for a bit, then rode in silence. Suddenly, I noticed a sign way up in the air on the side of the road: “Weesies Brothers“! I gasped quietly. There it was! My sign!

I decided not to share with the others, nor had I mentioned my request for a sign from my mom as I wasn’t sure they believe as I do that our loved ones who have passed are still around in spirit.

I basked in the feeling that came over me as we continued down the highway.

So, back to Wordle! “Mom,” I said in my mind. “Wanna play Wordle with me?” I swiped the screen, found the blank page, then waited for a starting word to come to me. It came. “ROYAL” I typed it in, hit Enter, and each letter turned green! It was the first time (and so far the only time) that I got Wordle on the first try!

Thanks, Mom! Thanks for playing with me! Let do it again sometime!

A Mother’s Day “card”

My daughter was born at home in the company of her father, two friends, and two midwives. Two cardinals appeared outside the window just as I had my last contraction. I held this amazing, slippery and warm, wide-eyed baby in my arms amid soft candlelight while Billie Holliday crooned in the background.

Yesterday was my first Mother’s Day without her. She passed away at age 42 after long battles with cancer.

Mother’s Day is no different from any other day except for the name we’ve assigned it on the calendar. I was aware of its razor-like significance with my new identity: a mother who had lost a child. My only child.

I knew I had a choice. I could spiral downward watching everyone else receive flowers and cards from their dutiful children. Or I could spend the day recalling memories of my daughter and our lives together, and feeling grateful that I got to be her mom.

I believe our spirits live on after death in the other realm that we are blind to with our physical eyes. Shortly after her death, I was showered with signs that she was still around me. I sensed her presence. This Mother’s Day, I requested–without desperation–a sign from my daughter.

Later that morning, while my husband and I watched a recording of American Idol, I felt a deep love for her as one of the contestants sang Bob Dylan’s, “Make You Feel My Love.” It moved me to tears.

Then, while another contestant crooned “Lilac Wine,” my husband suddenly cried: “Pause it! Quick! Come here!” He was staring out the window waving me over. There on the branches of our lilac tree were two cardinals.

The best ever Mother’s Day “card” from my daughter.