Monday, 20 August 2012

Three Eleven (3:11) - A Lifelong Connection


Mom and I about 1975
            Mom and I had a special relationship, on a very unique level.  She had the ability to sense when I was in trouble and needed her.  Not in the traditional mother’s intuition way that all mothers have with their children.  This was different and far deeper than that, or perhaps even higher.  There was no doubt it was on a different level.  It was not uncommon for the line to be busy when we called each other as we were both trying to make contact at exactly the same time.

            The time that stands out the most in my mind, even today, occurred when I was about 12 years old.  I was working downtown as a dishwasher at a restaurant.  My friend, Michelle and I worked there together on Saturday nights.  That was something that our parents insisted on, that we be together if we were to work until 3 a.m. which was standard closing time for restaurants in that day.  It was Michelle’s turn to arrange the ride home and we were to stay at her place.  Our boss said his good-byes, locked the door behind us and headed for home believing that we were well looked after.  Well, as fate would have it, her brother, our ride, was a “no-show”.  There we were two 12 year old girls stranded in town at 3 in the morning.  We found the nearest phone booth and frantically called Michelle’s house hoping to fine someone at home.  The phone only rang and rang with no answer.  The only other people out on the street at that time of the morning were, well, let’s just say, not upstanding citizens.  It was scary for both of us, but we tried to be tough and decide what we were going to do.  So we started walking, what else could we do?  My house was the closest, only 4 miles away.  Off we went, with no particular route in mind, walking as quickly as our feet would take us after an 8 hour shift of being on those same feet.  Of course, we had to maintain our tough and yet cool appearance for the benefit of those people out at that time of night, despite the fact that we were terrified.

            We had walked a short distance, when I saw a pick up truck coming towards us on the highway.  It looked strangely familiar.  I didn’t say anything to Michelle, but thought silently, “It can’t be.” The closer the truck got to us, the surer I was.  It was Mom.  She pulled into the first driveway she could find and we got in.  Michelle and I were in disbelief, along with being relieved to be safe.  We thought that someone from her family had to have called and told my Mom that they couldn’t make it. But that’s where we were wrong and I was about to hear the most profound statement from my Mother.  “I woke up and just knew that you needed a ride.  I got in the truck and started driving, and here I am.”  No questions asked, no doubting it to be true, it just had to be, and luckily for me, she was right.

            Well the years passed and I was in my early twenties when Mom and I made a promise to each other.  There are a lot of promises made in one’s lifetime, but I don’t think any can match the promise that we made to each other that day, years ago, for being, well, just plain weird.  We promised that whoever was to die first was to attempt to make contact from the other side.  Some may think this a strange promise to make.  To be honest, at the time I did too.  This came about after Mom and I read the book “Phone Calls From the Dead” by D. Scott Rogo and Raymond Bayless.  I’m sure not many of you have ever read it, or even heard of it, but it is exactly as the title describes; factual and documented accounts of spirits making contact with family members and friends from beyond within days of their passing, using electrical devices, such as phones and appliances.  The theory is that this can be accomplished because of the electrical energy contained in the spirit.

            More than a few years had passed since our promise when my Mother became very ill after caring for my Father, who had Alzheimer’s. She was in hospital for a few months and passed away on January 12, 2001.  My Father was still living, if you could call it that.  He was also in hospital suffering from the final affects of his disease.  We were now into the end of March and the final moment was only days away.  My sister, Louise, came into town to be there when Dad passed.  We were both waiting for some kind of sign from Mom to indicate that Dad was on his way.  Even Louise knew that Mom and I had a connection on a very spiritual level.  Days passed and nothing.  The nurses at the hospital kept saying “any time now” day after day and still Dad was hanging on.

            One night while I was sleeping I heard my Mother’s voice call me, the she used to when I was a child.  I woke up and looked at the clock on my bedside table.  It read 3:11 a.m.  Of course being awake, I now had to use the bathroom.  When I came back to bed I glanced over at my husband’s clock and it also read 3:11 a.m.  The date was April 1.  When I awoke in the morning I mentioned this to Louise and Ed.  The three of us concluded that this had to be a message and that Dad would pass at 3:11, we just weren’t sure which 3:11, a.m. or p.m. or which day.  We were at the hospital as always at 3:11 and Dad was far worse, but still hanging on.  Again the nurses said “any time now” and we went home for the night.

            The next day, Dad was still hanging on.  We were there as always at 3:11 and there was really no change.  After 2 days and no other signs we believed that the 3:11 was just a coincidence and meant nothing at all.  We, again, headed home for the night with the nurses saying “any time now.”

            The next day, April 3, Louise and I headed for the hospital in the morning as always.  We got there about 8:30, only to find that Dad was still hanging on and there still seemed to be no change.  Louise then said to me, “What if the 3:11 was to be April 3rd at 11?”  We had a giggle over that and went on with our day.  We headed out for breakfast making sure that the nurses had my cell phone number.  We were driving between errands when my cell phone rang.  I looked at the clock on the dash and it read 11:11.  It was the nurse and she stated we better get back as soon as we could, that Dad was going downhill fast.  We called our families to let them know, so they could get there in time.  Dad passed away at 11 minutes to 3 on April 3rd.  After taking care of the details that go with a family member passing we headed for home.  When we were pulling out of the parking lot, I glanced down at the clock on the dash of my car, and it read 3:11.  Louise and I were shocked, yet not totally surprised.  So Mom’s sign to me was very vague, but never the less a sign, and it didn’t come easily.  There had to be a challenge to it, and a puzzle.  That was just like her…

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