11:11

He died 14 years & 18 days ago. It’s exhausting living broken hearted –  especially when the closure isn’t there. So it’s natural, I think to look for signs or something from the great beyond to bring comfort. And if I am being honest, Mike doesn’t make himself known to me much – hardly at all, if ever. And I don’t know why that is because the only thing I have to compare it to is when I lost my Mom and Dad and I feel them (but mostly Mom) everywhere. Mom was a commanding presence. Her impact was so huge that I pattern my parenting after hers and I find myself becoming more like her every day. Gosh, I miss her.

Mike’s passing was traumatic. The writing was on the wall, yet when the end came I wasn’t prepared and the betrayal I felt, and still feel, even after all this time, that betrayal that I feel is imprinted on my heart in a significant way. It feeds that voice in my head that tells me that I am not worthy of love. When I hear stuff like that, why would I look for signs?

It recently has dawned on me that the signs people talk about – seeing a cardinal, finding pennies, looking at a clock at the exact same time each day, etc. – were not Mike’s style AT ALL. He would never communicate like that with me when he was living. Why would he start now?

Mike communicated with music. If he had a life’s soundtrack it would be in an 80s mix tape. Mike was an encyclopedia of music trivia. He would read the Billboard Top 40 Encyclopedia for fun. He wouldn’t be sending me birds or pennies. He’d be sending me love songs.

A couple weeks ago, I acquiesced and watched a show that the Netflix app had been repeatedly suggesting to me. Shadow & Bone is well done (for Netflix. They really are hit or miss.). The cast is young, beautiful, very talented and the story easy to get lost in. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I’ve developed quite the crush on the main antagonist in the show. I feel like I’m too old to get twitterpated and I was feeling like a dirty old lady for this attraction I was having. I IMDB-stalked the actor and discovered, that while he was a little younger than me, the age difference made me feel less like a wanna-be cougar and more like the teenager I used to be when I pinned Tiger Beat photos on my wall. That teenager is more fun! In my “research” I found out that Ben Barnes, who portrays General Kirigan on Shadow & Bone sings, too. Tall, dark, handsome and sings too? Augh! He’s so talented! His acting is top-notch but he SINGS?!

:::Banging head on keyboard:::

Sorry, Ben… it’s going to take a little longer to work you out of my system – especially if you keep writing and singing songs like 11:11. This song has been on a steady repeat for the past week on my Spotify playlist (If you’ve seen a drastic increase in royalties, Ben. You’re welcome!).

Music is a universal language. It can often times communicate in a way that sage advice or common sense can’t. I had a similar experience about four years ago when I heard Hugh Jackman (another on my imaginary boyfriend list) sing From Now On in The Greatest Showman. This song had such an impact, that felt a literal pivot in my life like someone taking me by the shoulders and turning me 180 degrees. I stopped caring about those things that brought temporary joy and turned my focus 100% back on what mattered – my daughter, who at the time was just entering high school – which is a critical time for kids. I have the tendency to hang on to my suffering. Mike made poor choices when it came to coping with his demons. And I would tell anyone who is going through times like he did, your choices may be your own but the consequences are not. Mike isn’t here to suffer the consequences of his choices. I am. His daughter is. We’ve both paid the price and continue to do so. If I’m being honest, I feel like I deserve it sometimes. 

Two months ago my Dad died. Days before his death, I sat there tearfully confessing to him that I felt like a rudderless ship. Michaela is grown and she’s needing me in some ways a lot less. It’s been another seismic shift in my journey and I don’t recognize the path I’m on and I certainly don’t have a map or guide. Dad listened quietly. And his words were simple. You’re doing fine, he said. I am sure that came from his nearly 80 years of living but I was closing in on 50 and I was feeling like that lost kid again. 

A couple summers ago, I took Michaela and a few of her friends to Moab. We went inner tubing on the Colorado River. I kept getting stuck in whirl pools that would just spin me round and round. The boys would have to come over and pull me out. It was humbling, to say the least. The last whirl pool I got stuck in, I was too far away from the kids. I slowly spun around as I watched Michaela and the rest get smaller and smaller and eventually disappear from view. I hopped out of the tube on to a nearby rock, my toes curled downward in a desperate grip on to the rock to steady my balance as the water gushed around me. I scanned my surroundings. I was a good 15-20 feet from shore, the water was ranging quickly and it was deep. I could take my chances and step off the rock to swim for it. Or I could try to launch myself back into the inner tube and work my way out of the whirl pool. I chose the latter. I clipped the tube to my life vest and jumped up as high as I could on to the tube. I landed mostly on the left side, the tube flipped over, I went under the water and the current started to move down stream. Those thoughts that are supposed to go through your head at a moment like this definitely were going through mine, along with “Please God. Not like this.” Drowning is definitely a fear of mine. I got my head above the water, took a gasp of air and searched for shallower depths so I could stand up again. I eventually found a place to stand and after I had a moment to gather my strength, I launched myself up on to the tube. It wasn’t pretty. But I managed to stay on top and then turn over. My butt sunk into the hole, my arms flopped over the sides, my water shoes were shredded. My big toe protruded from the top of the shoe. My head dropped backwards off my shoulders, coming to a rest over the edge of the tube, my eyes cast upon the blue sky above. At that moment I heard a rustling off to the side. About 15 feet away on a big rock, a vulture had landed and was watching me slowly float by. If this wasn’t a metaphor of my life at this moment, I didn’t know what was. “Not today,” I yelled. “Piss off, bird!” 

Yeah, I took a picture of it. Dude wanted to eat me. Click to enlarge!

By the time I caught up to the kids they were about a half mile down river, standing in the shallows, throwing rocks and waiting for me. Michaela looked genuinely relieved when she saw me. I have to admit that it made me feel better knowing that my impending demise was a concern. I told her that I was happy to see them all. I promptly clipped my tube to hers and the others and I told them that I was never doing this again. 

I have obviously digressed from the point of this post but I share that last story because while I don’t actively look for signs, I want them. And I don’t really know they are signs until time has passed. When I told Dad that I was a rudderless ship, what I really meant was that I am an overweight, middle aged widow with her butt lodged in the hole of an inner tube spinning an endless cycle in a whirl pool, all the while a vulture eyes her as its next meal. This metaphor is certainly more fitting than that poetic rudderless ship. These experiences become signs after time passes. But MUSIC are messages that are instant. Much like how From Now On shifted my focus – 11:11 pierced my heart in a very personal way. If I could, I would ask Ben Barnes what motivated him to write it. Because I see spiritual messages in its lyrics and certainly the song’s title isn’t coincidental or just poetry. I realized that the grasping on to my suffering is what I THINK makes me feel connected to Mike. If I have a death grip on the past, then I think that I don’t feel alone. It’s quite the opposite actually…

Cue the music….And there’s the “sign” that I wasn’t looking for.

Thanks Ben for writing such a beautiful song. And thanks Mike for humoring my crush and using Ben’s song to let me know that it’s ok to move forward and find what makes ME happy.