sea of joy

I’m housesitting with little Tootsie the terrier* for ten days and her mom had mentioned having an insulin pump. I was thinking of what a miraculous thing that had been for Mike, at least until he got very well and we started traveling and swimming and snorkeling a lot. He got lazy about keeping it on, being in and out of the water at our Mexico house, in Jamaica, etc. That didn’t kill him. (Didn’t help though.)

But that’s not the point. The POINT is I was thinking about the SEA, specifically the Caribbean and the Gulf, and that I’ll be back there in about a month (whale sharks!) and how much Mike LOVED the ocean, how it was his JOY, how it gave him new life after several years of illness.

And out of the blue, from my lacy purple bra, Blind Faith’s “Sea of Joy” starts playing on my phone.

I hadn’t been listening to music.
I ALWAYS listen to Spotify.
It’s not on my playlists.
It was coming from Apple Music which I never use. Never.

When I looked at my phone, I saw the date. May 13,** my wedding anniversary.

I don’t ask for signs from my misty people very often anymore, because I feel this solid low-level hum of their presence. It’s like hearing a beehive nearby. (I haven’t found the entrance yet, but I will. One day it will open wide and I’ll zoom right through, right into the hum of my beloveds.)

I also don’t have a lot of sadness these days. But just for a moment this morning there was a feeling of bittersweet longing sparked by a passing comment about an insulin pump. “What if, honey? What if things had turned out differently?”

And there he was. Reassurance. “Waiting in our boats to set sail… sea of Joy.” And then the words. Felt. “I love you, Cake.”

We’re all swimming in it, that sea of joy. We are that. It’s inescapable. I can wait. It’s okay now. It’s all okay.

If you’ve had losses, I hope it’s becoming so for you too. It takes time. All I know is to breathe. exhale. breathe. repeat.

And talk to them. Listen. Talk some more. That’s how it gets better. One breath, one conversation, one sign at a time. And listen for the hum. It’s the sound of love, which is forever.

*Tootsie’s photo, because OMG.

**And my screensaver, May 13. Thanks for the reminder, Michael.

I didn’t realize the date until he made me look.
Love in a fur coat. Getting a doggy fix for my anniversary. Tootsie.

17 thoughts on “sea of joy

  1. Once again you appear in my life out of the blue with such a meaningful message. Today marks 66 months since my Roger died. I always feel as though your posts are just for me. I hear that buzz and await zooming to meet him and others. But, that overwhelming sadness still paralyzes me. I love whale sharks and they are on my bucket list. Where in Mexico do you see them? I feel like our paths are destined to cross someday. Much love

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  2. Hi Lynette,

    I am delighted that one of you remembered the date, lol, and that you felt it in your core. ❤️ Doesn’t get much more special.

    Kindly,
    Jane

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  3. I so enjoy your writing Lynette – and descriptive insights. The hum! That’s IT!
    You are simply awesome. Much love to a lady I’ve never met but whose laughter I hear as I read ‘Tootsie’ (of course)
    Catherine xx

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  4. Whenever I comment there is a weird glitch in the system. I commented, and was told it was a duplicate but it’s not appeared so I say again in brief you are awesome Lynette and I just love your writing xx

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  5. Oh Lynette, what is so cool is your thought produced a response when you least expected it, on a very special day from the most important person,Mike. How beautiful is that! 🙂

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  6. Loved this post! Such a treat when it comes in the form of an old old song…. Our anniv today too. Thank you Angela

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

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  7. Wow….so beautiful!!It’s been 28 years, but I get signs, also so unexpected, such as yours….The best one for me was last year, the birth of our son’s beautiful daughter, on what would have been our 41st anniversary!! Our loved ones are always there, aren’t they?

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  8. I loved this! I don’t ask for signs much anymore either (for the same reasons you gave), but every now and again I see something, hear something, feel something, and I KNOW and my heart is full again!

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  9. I do not know how I started getting your mini-essays but I’m so glad I did!  This one was simply Joy!  Thank you, thank you…….. Margaret

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  10. Happy Anniversary! I think animals are facilitators of sorts. I was caring for a neighbor’s cat about a year after his “dad” had passed at the early age of 72. I was reading out loud to Charley-the-cat from a book by James VanPraagh on spirit guides, and then commenting to the cat, isn’t that interesting, and “I think your daddy would find that interesting,” when suddenly his dad-on-the-other side appeared to Charley, who got very, very excited! I know this because I had a reading scheduled that afternoon to talk to my son-in-spirit. The first one through was my neighbor, who had a lot to say…! Also loved hearing about the low buzz you describe.

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  11. Crazy that I should see this today. I received it in my email on the 13th (don’t know how I ended up on this list), skimmed it, smiled, and moved on. For some reason I didn’t delete it. Yesterday, my own Michael left this plane for the next. I am raw and bruised inside, and I miss him to the core of my being. I read your words this morning, and… they helped. I’ll be looking for signs from my “misty people.” Maybe this was the first.

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  12. Lynette, As always, your posts bring a tear to my eye but Joy to my heart to have you as a friend. Your writing is world class. Mike has to be very proud of you! Love, Ty

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