My mom was and is a sign watcher. For all my life I can remember her
mentioning "signs" before or after some event. Sometimes the devil was
involved. Other times our guardian angels. Either way, we needed to
keep our eyes open.
(I credit all of that to her Roman Catholic upbringings and years spent in the convent.)
A
few years ago it started to officially drive me insane. It was good we
were on the phone when she would mention this sign or the other one,
because as sure as my name is "il pan" I was rolling my eyes towards the
Heavens.
At any rate, a couple weeks ago we made a
pretty big decision that will hopefully lead to some answers for our
family. I was pretty excited by the whole concept of our decision,
knowing that good things were sure to follow.
I think it was the day after we made the decision that the fear settled deep in my bones and I started noticing things.
All
those years of watching for signs, all those glances around me to see
if the devil was cheering or if my guardian angel was kicking some ass
came back and now? Now I was looking around. And I was seeing stuff.
Bad things. Bad stories. Bad online films. Bad choices.
The
clouds started to look foreboding. The cats were yowling more often
than not. Mountain lions were roaming. My son developed a fever. The
rivers dried up and fire fell from the skies.
Signs. All of them bad, ugly, awful signs.
Yes,
indeed. It became very clear very quickly that the news we were going
to receive would be bad, bad, bad and life was going to be dark, dark,
dark for the remaining years. Yes siree. No doubt about it. Time to
buckle down the hatches and move into the cellar.
Good news is, I'm on the path of noticing how full my cup is
rather than merely halfway empty. And because I'm open to some good
mojo, I found this:
Made me think that things might be okay after all. And if they aren't, well, damn. It's bound to get better.
