My Personal Economic Stimulus Plan in Play Today

So, I have to go to the dentist today. I don't like it, so I decided that the rest of the afternoon will involve putting into play my personal economic stimulus plan--translation: I go shopping. I don't like shopping either, so I start with Starbucks (insert "Sound of Music" melody . . . a very good place to start . . .). Mmmmm $3+ coffee and one of those new turkey bacon sandwiches-that ought to help. I sit at a table and write some letters--yes letters that require stamps to help the post office succeed financially and stay open on Fridays. Then off to the shoe store, for the shopping. I wander the aisles, try on a few shoes, and then get irritated that I look the profile of the typical shoplifter (middle aged white female) because when the third extra-smiley employee interrupted my quest for shoes I don't need, I was certain that DSW would not benefit from my spending plan. But, alas, I did what was right and left with a pair black low-healed shoes. On, to the book store for more wealth spreading.

I go to the music rack and pick up "Classic Songs" a book of lyrics to songs. This irritates me too, because I'm so frustrated with this culture that doesn't have the music literacy to know a tune by just looking at lyrics, but I digress. I open the book and Caitlin sings this song to my heart:

Farewell, Mother Dear

Farewell! Mother dear, I go,
Where loved ones never can be parted.
We will meet again I know.
Be not weeping and downhearted.

Last night I dreamed of thee,
Saying pleasant things to me,
Still again those vigils keep,
While I lay me gently down to sleep.

Weep not mother dear for me,
When I'm laid underneath the willow
I'll keep guard upon thy soul,
Thou hast guarded over my pillow,
Far in a radiant land,
I will join a sister band,
They are singing a sweet refrain,
I am called, Farewell! We meet again.

I put the tiny book under my arm and find a chair to slump in and think, "thanks baby girl." I start to think that she misses me, too. Heaven may be nice, but her mama isn't there. So, she finds a way to nestle her head into my breast and sing a spirit song to my soul. I hear the lyrics again. I continued my shopping and find another book, "My Mother Gave me the Moon"

My mother gave me the moon.
My mother gave me the stars.
My mother gave me security.
My mother gave me warmth.

I'm unable to continue reading and I gently place the book back in it's place. Then as I walked out, I pick up a children's book about caterpillars and lovingly wandered through the pages until the last turn reveals ten beautiful butterflies.

I no longer question when I experience these signs or visits or memories or coincidences or whatever one chooses to label them occur. They are important ways of living for me and parenting the memory of my child as she parents my heart. Save a place in that sister band for me, daughter!

And that ends my personal stimulus plan day.