This past year my family was hit with tragedy after tragedy after tragedy.
At times I felt like I was punched in the stomach and couldn't breathe.
The pain continued to grow as parts of my life came to a grinding halt.
I never let my family see just how badly I was hurting.
I wanted to be the strong one.
I felt like that was my duty.
I wasn't the daughter of the father who passed, or the daughter, granddaughter or niece of the woman who passed.
I was me.
Simply just me.
I was the granddaughter of the man who passed away in front of his family.
I was the great niece of the remarkable woman who gave so much to so many.
I was me.
I wanted to take care of my family.
On January 6th 2014, my Great Aunt passed away very unexpectedly.
She was everything to my family.
Hell she still is.
She helped so much with my elderly grandparents.
Taking them to Doctors Appointments, out to eat, vacations, sitting with them, etc.
She passed away on her sisters birthday.
Being a full Christian woman,
I have so many questions for God.
I still don't know why he would let so much hurt and pain come into our lives.
May 16th 2014,
My grandfather passed away in the Hospital.
He was surrounded by loved ones; including myself.
I don't wish for anyone to witness a loved one dying if they had a choice,
But for me there was no question about it.
This man watched me come into the world.
He gave me a home, food, shelter, clothing, etc.
All I wanted was to give back to him.
Last year we lost a great soul.
On August 7th 2013, a dear friend of mine had passed in his sleep.
He was always like a big brother to me.
So much that, we were raised together.
We fought like brother and sister.
And we made up like brother and sister.
He protected me, and I him.
He made me laugh when all I wanted to do was give up and cry.
He made me believe in myself.
He gave me loyalty, respect, joy and love.
A couple of years before he passed, we suffered a terrible fight.
One that we were never able to recover from.
One that I will always blame myself for.
One that I think about each and every single day since The Lord took him away.
He was 25.
He was engaged to a phenomenal woman.
(The one I mentioned above)
He was a father to a beautiful baby girl.
A step father to three wonderful young men.
And unbeknownst to him,
He would father a second little girl.
One his fiancé found out only two weeks after he passed.
Since he passed,
I feel him everywhere.
I dream of him.
And in my dreams he is as real as you and I.
My first dream was the night after he died.
Our friends and family
Went to the ends of the earth to bring him home.
In a distance we saw him, sitting on a beach, his arms wrapped around his knees,
Just looking at the water.
We walked over to him.
He got up and simply said,
"What took you so long?"
Of course with his infamous, smile and those tantalizing dimples.
My second dream was only a couple of months ago.
You see I'm a General Hospital fan (and yes only 23yrs old)
So in my dream I was getting out of my car and walking to our neighborhood deli.
I was walking across the street when I see a black stretch limo pull up into the driveway of the elementary school.
(The deli being right next door)
The door opens and out walks, Jason Thompson (better known as Dr Patrick Drake). I immediately ask, "well who did you pick Robin or Sabrina?"
(This was around the same time Robin came back from the dead the first time, when she ruined Patrick and Sabrina's wedding)
His reply was, "Sabrina of course."
We laughed and continued to talk for a bit and than he left.
I go to turn around and walk to the deli but I hear.
"YO!"
I turn around and there he is.
His arms out like "WTF?"
I immediately feel myself running towards him and jumping in his arms.
It felt so real I couldn't believe it was a dream.
I remember we both had these huge smiles on our faces.
Like as if to say the nightmare was over. Everything's finally going to be ok.
Than I heard myself talking.
"Your finally home" I whispered in his ear.
His reply,
"I'm finally home."
Our eyes were closed. Our smiles brighter than any star or the sun.
Just like that I woke up.
It hurt waking up but it was amazing to see him and to hold him and to hear his voice.
I couldn't wait to go back to sleep and see him there again.
Since he passed away,
I've been going to what we all call, Michaels Beach.
It was the last beach he walked too, four days before he passed.
He looked fragile, fatigued, weak, anything but himself.
Every time I go I feel him with every breathe I take, every step I take it feels like I'm getting closer and closer.
There's little things that make realize he's really there.
Hearts in the sand, balloons for birthdays or anniversaries, a red cup, beach glass, rocks and seashells in the shapes of hearts, or even a red fox on the beach in the winter time.
Ever since he passed, there has been this red cup in the same spot every single day.
It survived snow storms, horrible weather, and a year.
It shows me that he's still partying it up, up with the big boys.
One day when I was taking pictures,
I saw this picture.
And it looked odd.
Now I'm very notorious for taking care of my photography equipment
So I knew there was nothing in my camera.
No sand no water nothing.
(His mother is the same way. Actually I'm photogenic because of her. She's almost like my Teacher.)
But this picture almost seemed distorted.
I looked closer when I got home and put it on my computer.
And I saw something so surreal.
I saw him.
His outline.
His smile, with his dimples.
His blue outer shirt with a white collared shirt underneath.
And standing next to him was his golden retriever.
I couldn't believe it.
I mean I believe in spirits and the after life and fate.
But this made me a true believer.
Here in front of my face, was the man we said goodbye to months before.
Looking up at the sky.
Smiling.
As if to say, "it's ok. I'm ok."
Because of him, my aunt and Grandfather, I push myself to be better every single day.
I try to have the patience I need with my Grandmother.
Being over 60% italian, and the rest being Irish, German, Swedish and French, patience is really not my thing.
So let's say it's a work in progress.
My Mike pictures from the beach.
The picture that gave me the strength to believe in things larger than this life.
