Thanksgiving Message

The panini’s had been ordered, and I had just gotten up to grab my “Blue Velvet,” a tea latte. A woman sitting at a table next to ours, asked “Did your boyfriend or husband die recently?”

Here we go again.

“Not recently,” I said. “And it was my husband. About 9 years ago.” She introduced herself as Lisa, told me she didn’t usually do this sort of thing, but that she was a psychic and had a message from my husband.

“He described you perfectly, so I knew it was you right away,” she said.”I was just driving along, and he told me I had to go to Luna Café and meet you. He had a message for you. Honestly, this has never happened before. I am new to this. I won’t be charging you if you are interested in hearing his message.”

Arron’s mother was at the next table with the kids. I knew she would not take to this at all. I told her all about the dog and she had immediately cried bulls*&t. Perhaps she is more pragmatic that I am. Perhaps I am just gullible. Perhaps I just want to believe so much that Arron is out there somewhere. I couldn’t believe another incident was happening so soon since the dog fiasco. I sat down with this woman, much to the bewilderment of my family at the next table.

Arron and Olivia on the doll couch, Thanksgiving 1995

“Was Thanksgiving significant in some way?” I thought of all the Canadian Thanksgivings we celebrated with friends, putting together mini sets of Lego afterwards, our tradition. I remembered Arron in a turkey coma sprawled on the tiny couch we had purchased when first arriving in the US from London, when it took a month for our furniture to arrive. The couch was only big enough for a doll at best, and yet we had sat on it together to watch TV, me six months pregnant with Olivia.

We had his memorial service on Canadian Thanksgiving, Columbus Day in the US, because it seemed to mean something, particularly that year, 2001. Our friends and neighbours prepared a entire turkey dinner for everyone who returned to the house after the memorial.

“He appears disembodied, which often happens when someone has died in an explosion or something. Was it an accident?”

“Um. Not really, but sort of.” I eventually told her how he died. She said the things that psychics often say. Make sure Olivia continues with the piano. Is Carter having trouble with math? He’s playing a song. Maybe a CCR song? The one about the house? “Our house?” Does that have significance? For the 20 minutes that I sat there listening, I basked in the magic of him, remembering, trying to put the puzzle pieces of what she said into the giant grid of our lives then and now.

“He wants you to know how much he loves you, and loves the kids, how much he misses you.”

“We miss him too.” I said.

“He’s very proud of you.” I smiled wryly.

“I hope so.”

I heard the song later that night. It wasn’t CCR, but it was by the same band who sang “Our House,” Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young” and the song is called “Judy Blue Eyes.” I just spent half an hour humming the one line I could remember until I found it on iTunes by clicking every CSNY and CCR song I could find. I don’t know why I knew it was the song the psychic had meant. It played as I was preparing US Thanksgiving dinner with a room full of Canadians. I am sure it was no coincidence. He was always prolific with music and poetry.

Judy Blue Eyes

It’s getting to the point
Where I’m no fun anymore
I am sorry
Sometimes it hurts so badly
I must cry out loud
I am lonely
I am yours, you are mine
You are what you are
And you make it hard.

Remember what we’ve said and done and felt
About each other
Oh babe, have mercy
Don’t let the past remind us of what we are not now
I am not dreaming.
I am yours, you are mine
You are what you are
You make it hard.

Tearing yourself away from me now
You are free and I am crying
This does not mean I don’t love you
I do, that’s forever,
Yes and for always
I am yours, you are mine
You are what you are
You make it hard.

Something inside is telling me that
I’ve got your secret.
Are you still listening?
Fear is the lock, and laughter the key to your heart
And I love you.
I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are
You make it hard
And you make it hard (x 3).

Friday evening, Sunday in the afternoon
What have you got to lose?
Tuesday morning, please be gone I’m tired of you.
What have you got to lose?
Can I tell it like it is? (Help me I’m suffering)
Listen to me baby.
It’s my heart that’s a suffering (Help me I’m dying)
It’s a dying, that’s what I have to lose
I’ve got an answer
I’m going to fly away
What have I got to lose?
Will you come see me Thursdays and Saturdays?
What have you got to lose?

Chestnut brown canary
Ruby throated sparrow
Sing the song don’t be long
Thrill me to the marrow.

Voices of the angels, ring around the moonlight
Asking me, said she’s so free
How can you catch the sparrow?

Lacy, lilting, lyric, losing love, lamenting
Change my life, make it right
Be my lady.

Que linda me la traiga Cuba,
La reina de la Mar Caribe.
Cielo sol no tiene sangre allí,
y que triste que no puedo vaya,
Oh va, oh va, va.

Translation:
(Oh, what beauty Cuba brings me,
The queen of the Caribbean Sea,
Sunny sky has no blood over there,
And how sad that I cannot go,
Oh go, oh go, go.)

Today I weep as the meaning of these lyrics wash over me and give thanks for her gift of him, and for his message to me.

11 Comments

  1. annie November 29, 2010 at 1:47 pm

    I think I would go crazy if psychics and people with tales of my husband’s life as a dog kept landing on my life. Of course, I live in a haunted house, so maybe there is no difference?

    Interesting song. Will told me once, not long after he was diagnosed that he basically planned to spend his eternity moping as he watched me move on, remarrying and be happy. I don’t think that’s how it has turned out. Most of the time my sense is that he has moved on as well and it’s rare that I get signs – although our daughter’s becoming a Girl Guide stirred him up enough to pester me for a few days (he was an Eagle Scout – I imagine he was bursting with pride).

    Signs are good. I am glad mine don’t arrive by messenger though.

  2. Sarah November 29, 2010 at 2:45 pm

    that’s pretty damn powerful. a very dear friend of mine is a psychic medium, specializing in connecting people with their deceased loved ones. i’ve gotten so much peace out of discussions between Brett and her and I. the message you got was so amazing. i hope it brought a smile to you.

  3. Debbie November 29, 2010 at 5:35 pm

    What a great experience! I completely believe and have spoke to a medium a few times. Like Sarah, I found the experiences have brought me peace. I like your description: “I sat there listening, I basked in the magic of him, remembering, trying to put the puzzle pieces of what she said into the giant grid of our lives then and now.” That so completely describes my few experiences with a psychic medium. I love the song message! And I wish I had people bringing me messages!

  4. Carolyn Stephens November 29, 2010 at 7:03 pm

    It’s like that song, those lyrics, were written 30 years ago so it could be a message to you now.

  5. Michele Neff Hernandez November 29, 2010 at 8:25 pm

    Seriously Abby, I don’t know ANYONE who gets as many messages, in this kind of creative packaging, as you do! Must mean you are pretty special 🙂 Hope to see you when I am in Seattle on Thursday…come to the party! xo M

  6. Lisa K. Fox November 30, 2010 at 5:21 am

    Thank you for listening Abby, it was such an honor and a blessing!
    I’m so touched by your blog and that it meant so much to you…

    Lisa

  7. Boo Mayhew November 30, 2010 at 5:24 am

    Oh! How wonderful. I think I might go see a medium … I can’t decide. I think I’d prefer it if someone approached me like they have you. I hope you receive comfort over the coming months through this communication xx

  8. Abigail - Site Author November 30, 2010 at 2:04 pm

    Thanks for all your comments. the reading really was a comfort and had me thinking about Arron all weekend and then when I read the lyrics I was just blown away.

    It is so strange that this stuff happens to me all the time. I’m just such a “psychic magnet!” Now if it would just apply to the men… 😉

    Lisa has been doing readings professionally for about a year and her website is http://www.lisakfox.com if anyone is interested.

  9. Dampdynamite December 1, 2010 at 11:05 pm

    Ah, the price of “fame.” Your face is readily recognizable, you know. Any one who cruises the grief sites will eventually happen upon yours. Just sayin’…..

    1. Diane December 5, 2010 at 10:40 am

      I think Aaron just gets tired of watching you struggle so much with all of this. And, knowing him, he was probably about the bust a gut over the dog incident. lol
      Don’t discount Selena’s bullshit detector either…as I recall she tends to be more on the mark then off.
      xx

  10. Diane December 5, 2010 at 10:43 am

    I posted that under the wrong square! Sorry DAMPDYNAMITE

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