“I am here, Tony” was the message I received last Thursday from my dear grandmother who’d passed away a year and a half ago. When the words, as if they were written on a chalkboard came to me in my mind, I knew what they meant: her spirit was in my presence. The two of us had a close bond – and I’d say that we still do. I was even shown what prompted the communication: Christmas ornaments.
Last week, I decided to clear out space in my musky utility closet, notably removing four boxes of holiday decorations that had been shelved for nearly three years after moving to my California mid-century condo. A retro aluminum tree had since replaced the evergreen adorned in balls and bulbs that served as the yuletide centerpiece in previous traditional houses in Louisville and Atlanta. It was time for those stowed away ornaments to have another lease on life in someone else’s home. A place where their beauty and merriment could add sparkle to the season.
So, the task of going through the multitude of glass, glitter and gilt was required. I decided to hold onto a few prized ornaments, like a tomato-red globe which broke my blue-and-white-only themed tree routine (some thought I was Jewish, but the colors represented my high school alma mater). Some treasures given to me by friends and family. And, I certainly wasn’t going to part with my Boll Weevil Monument Christmas Ornament, another salute to my hometown. Nestled underneath boxes of newer store bought decor were five glass balls, whose shine and luster had since faded from their earlier holidays. Those nostalgic ornaments originally belonged to my grandmother, as she’d bought them when I was a toddler. When my grandparents neared their late 70s, they stopped putting up a tree. And, those ornaments found a new home. Mine.
By gifting my unused decorations to another household, I, in essence, was continuing a family tradition. Doing so made my day, as it did the young family’s, whose six and eight year-old daughters were especially thrilled to receive the boxes.
That night was when the message from my grandmother came through. Before the phrase appeared, I saw images of those ornaments that I’d elected to keep. And, specifically those which were my grandmother’s. Love was omnipresent. It all made sense to me.
Two days ago, another revelation came to me regarding the words in her message. As a little boy, (probably about the age when my grandmother would’ve purchased those ornaments) I was known, upon arriving at her house, to run to the back door and yell, “Open da’ door Mama, I here. I here.” And, I was reminded of those childhood greetings up until the last time I spoke with my grandmother.
“I am here, Tony” now even makes more sense to me!
Love and light,