Our Dance
There have been many dances since, but one on October 12, 2013 is forever treasured in my memory. My family was attending our nephew’s wedding. It was just over 7 months after my son, Aiden, passed. While we were so happy for this beautiful couple, it was a very tough day. There were many times I had to excuse myself, find a private place to cry and then try to put myself together emotionally. During the reception, the “Macarena” played. I offered our son, Jack, $20 if he would go out there and dance. “NO” was the answer, “Not a chance!”. Conor, being the perpetually broke college student, saw an opportunity and asked, “Will you give me $20 if I go dance?”. “Absolutely!” was my answer. So off he went to the dance floor.
Andy grabbed his camera to capture the moment and followed Conor. He called over his shoulder, “Kathy, get out there and dance with him!” I was horrified. I couldn’t believe that he would even suggest it. I thought, how could I dance when my beautiful Aiden wasn’t here? How could I ever dance again? I have no business dancing…. I had no business being at such a joyful occasion. I said, “oh, I’m not doing that.” He prompted me again, and again I said, “No”. He was a bit more insistent the 3rdtime. He wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He said, “You instigated this. Now get out there and dance with him!” I couldn’t believe my normally easy-going husband was being so pushy. Didn’t he understand? But, something inside granted me permission to dance and I said, “O.K.”
I went out to the dance floor and took my place right next to Conor who was doing an impressive job at following the moves! I, on the other hand, turned right when I should have turned left and put my arms out when I should have been swishing my hips – I was a mess altogether! But, something surprising happened. Something that had once come so easily to me, but that had escaped me for 7 months returned; I found myself laughing. I was laughing at myself and I was laughing because Conor was laughing. My heart was bursting with love and gratitude because my beautiful son was smiling. It’s something to feel your heart breaking and joyful at the same time. We were having a moment of the “old” us, “the” us I knew. Knowing that the dance would end and we’d walk off the dance floor, I also knew we had just created a memory. Well, the song did end and we did leave the dance floor, but not before we high fived and Conor gave me a big bear hug and swung me around.
The next morning Andy, Jack Conor and I piled into the car to bring Conor back to college. We dropped him off at the football stadium. Where it was homecoming and Penn State was playing Michigan. We hung around the stadium before the start of the game. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement. As everyone started heading into the stadium, we were saying our good-byes. In my family, this can take a while. We firmed up travel plans for his trip home for Thanksgiving. We hugged and kissed him. Then hugged and kissed him again. As we walked away, I looked over my shoulder one more time trying to get one more glimpse of him. I did catch sight of him amid the mass of blue and white clad students. He was laughing and talking with his friends, most likely catching up on what he missed while away from them for the past 2 days. The sun was shining and Penn State would go on to beat Michigan 43-40 in a very exciting 4 overtime victory. It would also be the last time I would physically see him. A month later Conor passed from an accidental fall.
To this day, I am and will forever be grateful to my easy-going yet pushy husband for getting me out on that dance floor. It is one of my most precious memories. I hope that in Heaven we will have a treasure box filled with moments that we can take out, marvel at and then if we choose, experience it again. Our “macarena” moment, for sure, will be in mine. I have also thought a lot about how we must have appeared to other people while we laughed and danced. I truly believe that moment was not just for us but for anyone there going through pain and grief. Maybe, just maybe, by seeing us in that moment it inspired just enough hope to keep someone else moving forward. This taught me to always dance your dance. You never know how you may be blessing those around you.
Over the last 6 years this journey has shown us things we never would have imagined. We’ve had experiences that I only thought I would read about, but not happen to us. Conor and Aiden have shown us that they are walking this walk with us still. I have seen Conor and Aiden in many ways. I have talked to them and they have answered. Mostly when they want to bring my attention to something, I get a physical sensation, a touch, each as individual as they are. The boys presence has been so strong, so real that I just knew I had to pull the thread, follow where they were leading me and learn the language of Spirit. This has lead me to study mediumship among some of the best teachers.
November 16, 2019 was the 6thanniversary of Conor’s passing. On that day as I was driving home I felt Conor in the car with me. I have come to recognize that the physical sensation of chills down the left side of my head into my shoulder indicates that Conor is present. When this happens, I just talk with him. In this visit, I smiled, said “hi” and told him I was so happy he was here. I also became aware that Conor had someone else with him, Able, my spirit guide. Able gives me the same sensation as Conor, but on my right side. So, I greeted them both and told them I loved them. As I was thinking this, I noticed that the driver in the car ahead of me was going very slowly. I glanced in my rear-view mirror to see if there were a line of traffic behind me and was in awe of what I saw. My heart filled with love to see that the person driving behind me bore an uncanny resemblance to Conor. There are no coincidences. If that car hadn’t been driving so slowly, I would have missed this blessing. So I asked again, “what do you want me to know?”. Just as I finished asking, the song, I hope you dance, by Lee Ann Womack started playing. The message couldn’t have been clearer. “Dance your dance, Mom, ‘I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance, never settle for the path of least resistance’”.
November is rough for me because of the anniversary of Conor’s passing. The same can be said of March as it is the anniversary of Aiden’s passing. These times can put a spotlight on the physical absence my family lives with. It is very challenging emotionally to learn how to mother your children as they grow up and move away from you. It is more difficult when you add to that the challenge of navigating your way through mothering your children and building a relationship with them when they are in Spirit. This fall I’ve had a lot on my mind and some decisions to be made about how to handle future events and moving forward. Frankly it is daunting because I truly feel the pull to expand my study of communication with Spirit and the call to mediumship. I am at a point that I need to honestly and intentionally live my truth and address something I have been dancing around for quite some time. During the last six years in my search to find my boys I’ve made an incredible discovery about myself. While learning to understand the “language” of my boys, I’ve come to know my original language, and I have been able to hear other voices and stories as well. Through grief the abilities of mediumship have been ignited in me. It has not been easy, there continue to be mountains of self-doubt. But always my boys are there encouraging me and pushing me forward. Telling me to trust God, keep the faith & climb the mountain…Still asking me to dance.