November 22nd, 2006 by Atomictumor
So, I told you once that I had the biggest feeling of BJ on Saturday night.
What I didn’t mention (because one with an objective mind can never be too sure if these things are figments of imagination, or chemicals in the brain, or the divine hand of a cosmic deity) was that the feeling of having BJ with me came a few times over the next two days. Its how I kept in such a good mood, because I was constantly feeling like she was close, that she was holding me, that she loved me. She would talk to me without words, some kind of feeling in the back of my skull that told me she was telling me something. Something about love, and peace.
So, Monday, I was getting ready to go to the funeral home to deal with the stuff there, and then follow wherever the wind blew me (ultimately to the Blueberry Farm, and my boys), I talked to BJ.
I told her “Baby, I feel you. I know you’re here for me, and holding me, and giving me what peace you can give me. I’m strong, and your mother needs help. You parents both need help, because they’re hurting more than I am now. I love you, and I’ll see you again.”
After that, I drove on. I didn’t really feel her again, but I figured (as one will do) that I was deluding myself. Monday went by, and Tuesday went by, and I was grumpy and pissy and stressing over future plans.
Today was better
—
So, we went down this afternoon for MastaG’s birthday thing at BJ’s parents house (Mamaw and Papaw). BJ’s sister and brother in law were there, her brother had to work in Alabama.
Let me jump ahead and say we had a great time. I was planning on bringing some of the loot I got him, but totally forgot it. He got a nice expensive remote control monster thing from Mams and Paps (as they’re affectionately called by the boys), and a prepaid telephone from his aunt and uncle. Its the dawn of a new thing for ol’ MastaG, and he has to be responsible for minutes. I think it’ll be good for him, if he doesn’t lose the phone (as he is want to do).
—
When we got there, we were starving. It was decided to order some Ruby Tuesdays take out (who forgot to put my burger on the menu, but I ate a little off everybody elses, so it was OK). BJ’s Dad and I went to order and pick it up. I ordered a nice Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, which was tasty.
While we were there, we talked. He was telling me on the drive that their pain was indescribable, that a parent should never lose a daughter. Now, I had resolved not to get into a grief pissing match, because those never turn out well (even on pay per view), no matter how nicely I try to say it, so I sat quietly in the car as he talked.
Now, I’m not trying to say that they’re inconsiderate, just that they’re in so much pain that they’re not really seeing outside of it. They’re both the best people on earth, and totally where BJ got her BJness from.
I digress.
So, anyway, I was sipping my beer, and talking to him (who doesn’t like beer, the weirdo) and he mentioned something that happened Monday. He said that Barbara went around the house saying that she had the strongest smell of BJ’s perfume. She went around and asked if anybody else could smell it, and nobody could. Jim didn’t make much out of it, but I did. You might too.
Or maybe not. I’m not going to rub peoples noses in the things that I think, because people haven’t seen what I’ve seen. I’ve talked to some people that weren’t touched by The Beauty, or any sense of anything greater than the meat that we’re all made of. I respect that more than you can imagine, because I lived the past 10 years thinking that, and because I can’t, and to a certain degree won’t, explain what I’ve seen, because I don’t know how to.
Furthermore, I understand that I don’t know. Maybe The Beauty was a release of endorphins caused by stress. Maybe my overworked brain zigged when it should have zagged, and gave me the feeling that I described on a Thursday a few weeks ago. Maybe.
Maybe BJ wasn’t telling me that she was with God that day I felt her hand squeeze and her eyebrows move as I talked about what I’d seen. Maybe she was telling me I was full of shit. Maybe she was telling me that she smelled something funny. Maybe she wasn’t as awake as she’d looked, despite the silent tears as I told her how much the boys love her, and how safe they’ll be.
I’ll never know, in my meaty body, even if you think you do.
I’ve found what faith is.
I love you, little ghost.
November 22nd, 2006 at 7:27 pm
Great post AT. Brought tears to my eyes.
November 22nd, 2006 at 7:40 pm
AT, I think that is so cool. I hope it brought BJ’s mom some peace. Whether it is or isn’t something, we won’t know. There are simply some things you can’t explain, and that’s just all there is to it. Take what you get and know that if there is a way for her to be close to you guys, you know she will do it. Hell, look at how much all of us feel her and we never even knew her in real life.
November 22nd, 2006 at 7:49 pm
I’m with Missy. Sometimes stuff happens that you just can’t explain. I am glad (and oddly comforted) that she brought you some Peace (and White Stripe lyrics).
November 22nd, 2006 at 7:50 pm
AT, you have to feel “it” to truly believe “it,” and I know with all my soul that you did. And given your unbreakable connection to her, you will feel “it” off and on for the rest of your life. A gift if you will.
I had that experience when I was 14, and lost a friend I had a mad crush on. He came to me on a bus ride home from a competition (drum and bugle), and as I lay in the bus seat looking up, making the street lights flicker and change colors when I moved my head so the tears would magnify them, He told me he was allright, and he didn’t hurt, and not to worry about him. To this day (31 years later), I still take great comfort in that moment alone with Sonny on that lonesome, dark night; the smell of diesel fuel is perfume to me, still.
Believe. Now you can.
November 22nd, 2006 at 7:53 pm
Don’t think that BJ can’t be with them and with you at the same time. Hold on to that faith. Protect it like you would a child. The world will try to get in the way. I’m so glad that you feel it and through it, your BJ.
Continuing to pray for you and the boys.
November 22nd, 2006 at 8:14 pm
I believe God can do anything…..just think, if he can let you feel BJ’s spirit loving on you, how Awesome and Great He must be! The same way He is holding BJ right now, He can also hold you and your boys. He will comfort you all, in these days and years to come. All you have to do is ask Him. When your strength and peace fail, His will take up the slack. I have been, and will continue to pray for you and your boys. Celebrate BJ’s life with them, and they will carry her in their hearts forever.
November 22nd, 2006 at 8:31 pm
It was 11 years ago that my brother died, followed 2 months later by my boyfriend. It literally brought me to my knees, that pain did. I won’t belabor the details, but I experienced some things during the months that followed that cannot be explained in the “rational” world. Even now, I can sometimes can feel a … presence. And I believe.
November 22nd, 2006 at 8:42 pm
I saw a whirlwind of leaves blowing by my house today…….. The spirits were dancing happily.
Punk HP
November 22nd, 2006 at 8:52 pm
At a loss for words again. Peace to you and your boys.
Love from Germany
November 22nd, 2006 at 9:06 pm
I believe.
She is with you.
November 22nd, 2006 at 9:29 pm
I believe it and I am glad that you have found your faith. I lose mine often enough that it is nice to be reminded that it exists.
November 22nd, 2006 at 9:53 pm
just wanted to let you know that i have had that same feeling - a good friend i lost, came to me in a dream and told me everything i wanted to hear. explained that he was okay, everything was good between the two of us, we had long conversations that night in my dream filling in any unanswered questions in our relationship. although it was a dream, i i do feel that he came to me in that form to tell me that he was in fact okay and at a better place. a place that he didn’t really have faith in before. i don’t think it was “just a dream” b/c it was so very real in so many ways. i actually touched him, smelled him and saw him - unlike any other dream i have ever had. from that day on, i have felt more at peace with his passing. i hope that you will eventually feel that same peace.
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:08 pm
anything, EVERYTHING, is possible, nothing is impossible. it’s not a coping mechanism, jake. she’s with you - she’s here and there and with her mama, too. you are doing good … you are trusting her and trusting Him … you are doing good. ;)
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:10 pm
I believe. I’ve seen. Belief in God doesn’t preclude the “Supernatural”. Find peace where you can. :)
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:10 pm
You know what else?? You are keeping her here for all of us. I thank you for letting me, a stranger, know her.
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:15 pm
AT, I found you on BusyMom’s site and I’ve been reading you for a couple of weeks now. Everyday I read your words and feel some of the sadness and pain. On this post I have to comment that this time last year, I lost my Dad to lung cancer. He was diagnosed 2 1/2 weeks earlier so we didn’t have much time to let it sink in. 3 days after Thanksgiving he died and I’ve never felt pain like that in my life. I’ve since felt him in many ways and definitely feel that he has been with me many times since then. I feel they try to reach out to us to bring some comfort . “I believe” by Diamond Rio…great song :)
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:37 pm
That is faith at it’s purest. Don’t think for a minute it is self-delusion.
I believe in God because I know, in my deepest of souls, that he is with me.
If her spirit is real to you, if you feel it in your deepest of souls, then she is.
That’s faith.
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:38 pm
Society wants us to believe, that because we cant actually touch it… or feel it or see it or smell….. it must not be real……. Man…… hold on to ANYTHING that comes your way…….. I believe…… happens for me.. weekly, and it’s what helps me cope……
Peace & Love to ya man
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:44 pm
What could be more supernatural than God?
November 22nd, 2006 at 11:17 pm
What an awesome post, AT. Hold onto that faith because I have a feeling it’s going to continue to get you through these moments. That feeling is real, it’s faith, and it’s love that never ceases. Feelings remain forever. Thank you for sharing, and for allowing me (another stranger) into BJ’s world.
peace and love, always.
November 23rd, 2006 at 1:08 am
AT, did they do Bj’s autopsy yet? I think its great that you can “feel” here all around you, and I hope her parents find a peace very soon as well.
November 23rd, 2006 at 4:19 pm
I know exactly what you are feeling. right after I lost my baby girl, I felt more “spiritual” (for lack of a better description) than ever, but in that unique way you are talking about … I am almost jealous that you are immersed in it right now, it is a special time - one you will miss later when all of the material earthly things take over your life again.
That post made me cry. It was beautiful.
Bless you and your little ghost.
November 24th, 2006 at 3:12 pm
AT, I have been following your saga from the start of BJs illness. Let me add my condolences to all the others–and the hope that you will keep on keeping on. It is YOUR journey, don’t let the individual journeys that everyone else is having to make disrupt yours.
Now, philosopher mode OFF, kinda. I have seen a ghost (very real looking he was, too), and my mother had a visit from my dad while he was in a coma before he died. I feel (very strongly) that there is more than what we see here–the details escape me, but I can feel that other SOMETHING there. If I’m wrong, I guess I’ll never know/it won’t matter anyway. Hang in there dude, and when it all hits (almost certainly it will–it just takes a while sometimes) remember the good things/times, and know there will be more. Not with BJ, at least in this life, but in your life.
Keep writing, if you can. I hope that it helps you, and you seem like a part of the family now, in some weird Internets kind of way. Funny how that works. I’ll be keeping you, the kids, the parents, and BJ in my thoughts/prayers.
November 24th, 2006 at 9:43 pm
I’ve been reading your posts, and cried many tears for you, your BJ, and your boys. I firmly believe that you have BJ with you, and that she was with her parents when they needed her. My own experience leads me to believe that our loved ones can give us love and support, and be with us when we need them (and sometimes just because). In dreams, in scent, in feelings, in smiles and winks, in peace, even in sight.
She’ll be with you, and with your boys and her family, forever. Your kind of love will keep you bonded in this life and the next.
I wish I could offer help, or words to make this easier. Instead, I’m sending prayers and support to you all every day.
November 27th, 2006 at 1:29 pm
I’ve been reading all of your posts, but haven’t wanted to comment too much for fear of looking like some kind of weird internet stalker or something. ‘Cause I’m really very normal. (And, uh, if I have to TELL YOU that, maybe I’m not. LOLOL) Anyway, I’m just a 38-yr-old mother of two kids (ages 7 & 11) who works in a dead-end job and is grateful for blogs to kill the seemlingly endless hours in the day. Anyway.
I lost my mother–my very best friend–5 years ago. For years leading up to her death (she had always been ill) I worried how I would survive it emotionally. Aside from losing my husband or children, I couldn’t imagine anything worse.
Anyway, the time came, and she died. I cried that first night, although when I did sleep, I felt someone patting my back all night. The next morning, I thanked my husband for comforting me. He said he never did; it must’ve been my mother.
We got home (we’d been out of town where she was having surgery) and I felt this overwhelming sense of HAPPINESS as soon as I walked into my house. Like a peacefulness/gratefulness/happiness that I have never, ever known before. (And I’m generally a really happy person.) It came over me and I literally couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for hours. I felt guilty for feeling so GOOD, but I couldn’t help myself! And I felt my mother’s presence constantly. I talked to her. She found ways to send me messages. I knew she wasn’t really gone. She was still with me; I just couldn’t see her. Five years later, and I still have times of feeling her around me. It has brought me loads of comfort.
Oh, and about the perfume? The day after she died, we stopped by my brother’s house to see him and just chat awhile (my husband & I). Out of nowhere, her perfume overwhelmed the room — so much so, that we all just stopped talking. We looked at each other. Simultaneously, we all said, “You smell that?” It lasted maybe 60 seconds. We told our mother hello. It left as suddenly as it had come.
BJ will always be with you, but I don’t think you need me to tell you that.
Sending you non-stalker internet hugs. ;-) I so admire the kind of person you are and the things you are doing for your boys, and for yourself, even.
BJ is extremely proud, I’m sure.