The Visitations

Those of us who have lost a loved one often talk about visitation dreams but what about what seem to be real visitations by the dearly departed?  Since Tiffany died, I have experienced two of these types of occurrences. 

The first time this happened, it was about 6:00 am on a Friday morning in August 2013.  I was in a deep sleep, dreaming some now-lost dream. Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching my bed and I remembering thinking in my dream how odd that was.  It was odd because on some level I knew that the door was closed. How could there be footsteps in the room when I never heard the door open?  What was also strange was that I seemed to be on two different planes.  On the one hand, I was dreaming and knew I was dreaming.  But at the same time, I realized that there was something happening outside of the dream state, in the real world.

As I lay there, on my side, listening to the footsteps approach the bed and stop just short of my shoulder, I heard a voice, Tiffany's sweet voice, say gently "Mom...Mom?" It was so real that I woke right up out of the dream, sat up and looked at the door (which was still closed). Of course, no one was there but her voice resonated in my mind. I calmly, without fear, settled back down and fell asleep, hoping maybe she would come back to me in my dreams but she didn't.

Paul was in the other room getting ready for work and when I told him about it, he told me that he had heard footsteps as well.  But he just thought that I had gotten up but I hadn't left the bed.  It is this that makes me think that what I heard was real and not just a dream.

I never did figure out if she had a message for me but at the time I hadn't been feeling great, either mentally or physically.  After the visit, I felt a little bit better.  Maybe that was her purpose, if there was one.  Whatever the reason, I am so grateful for that little visit out of time...it soothed my soul.

The next time it happened was just a month ago.  It was Memorial Day and we were on vacation in Massachusetts.  I forget what time it was but it wasn't too early or too late in the morning.  I woke up, opened my eyes and heard a voice say "Mom".  I looked at Paul, who was standing in the room, told him that someone had called to me and closed my eyes.  As I rested there on the bed, I felt a soft touch on my hip as if someone had laid their hand gently on me.

This experience was so reminiscent of the first occasion that I really have begun to wonder if perhaps there is something that Tiffany is trying to communicate.  I wish I knew what it was, if anything.  Or maybe she's just letting me know she's with me and she's okay.

Waking dreams, lucid dreams, visitation dreams...whatever kind they are, can be fascinating, especially when someone close and most dear to you has died.  It was less than a week after I had this visitation that I attended a meeting where the guest speaker spoke at length about Dreams and the Departed.  And just last September, I went to an all-day workshop, given by the same guest speaker, on Meeting the Departed in Dreams.  It was shortly after that workshop that I had the most vivid (and probably the first significant) dream of Tiffany.  If you want to know more about this type of dream, please visit "Visitation Dreams: Dreaming of Someone You Know Who Has Died".

As the 4th anniversary of her death approaches, I pray for more dreams to come of Tiffany, my sweet "Princess".

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dreams that you wish will come true.” 
― Walt Disney Company (from Cinderella)

Birthday Dream

Dear Tiffany,
Today is your actual birthday.  Happy Birthday!  I'm feeling a little optimistic at this moment because I woke up to the beautiful, bright sun shining directly in my eyes.  A dream of you lingered in my mind and when the fog of sleep dissipated, I remembered the dream.

You and I were playing a game on TV.  It was like one of the games I play...sort of like Hidden Objects.  In this game, a still-shot from a movie was displayed on the TV screen.  Then a movie clip was played and the object of the game was to stop the clip when the scene matched the still-shot seen previously.  We were having a hilarious time trying to coordinate whose turn it was, ensure that we didn't miss the still-shot, after which we had to try to guess the right moment.

We played this game a few times.  One of the movie clips had Sandra Bullock in it and I have no idea why that actress came to mind.  Maybe because you did enjoy many of her movies.  It really should have been Dorothy or Glinda or the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz!  Anyway, after we were done, the scores appeared on the screen.  It was 12 points for you and 24 points for me.  I guess I just had more experienced playing this type of game.  LOL...

I had several other dreams last night.  They were all about you and Troy and Kelly.  Dreams about rescue and lost things, about sharing love and comfort, as well as about soothing fear and pain.  Maybe a lesson to be learned here?

"The best things in life come in threes.  Loved ones (friends), dreams and memories."
-- Unknown (paraphrased)

With all my love,
Mom

Happy Birthday, Tiffany

It was 28 years ago today, March 22, 1987, that I went into labor with Tiffany.  I had just arrived home from finishing up a few details for the nursery.  It had been a difficult pregnancy, fraught with problems and anxiety.  Although I had passed the 20-week mark, on February 14, at 30 weeks, I went into labor.  Fortunately, the doctor was able to stop the labor and here it was 5 weeks later.  I was now at the point of no return and there was no stopping this child from being born.

So, on a sunny, warm spring day, the 23rd day of March, 1987, Tiffany Marie Gallo came into this world and until the day she died 24 years and 3 months later, she was a joy to behold.  I often wonder what she did that last birthday on March 23, 2011, in Stamford, CT.  I wasn't there and all I have are some pictures of her surrounded by friends.  I hope and pray she was happy and had a wonderful day.

Because only 3 months after that 24th birthday, Death, like a thief, sneaked through the night and stole my child's life away.  Grief is the enemy left behind.  Oh, how I hate Grief.  It is pain and suffering and sadness and emptiness.  It never goes away; always there in the background waiting to catch you unaware and throw you into a tailspin.

I hate that Tiffany is not here to live her life, beautiful, happy, healthy, that gorgeous girl we all knew.

I hate that there are no more pictures, no more memories, no more anything.  I hate that people expect you to get over this unbearable loss, be the same person you were and get on with your life.  I will never get over it; I will always grieve for all that is lost.

I hate that I can't talk to her, that the only communication is through signs and dreams.  It's not enough.  I often can't remember the dreams; all I know is that she was there somehow and it kills me that I don't know what the message is.

I hate that I can't touch her soft skin, see her lovely face with that gorgeous, breath-taking smile, hear her voice that sounded so young and gaze into her beautiful blue eyes.  Eyes that gaze out at me from pictures and make me always wonder what she was thinking.  Eyes that I fall into right down to the very soul of her.

I hate that she's not here to get to know her wonderful nephews and play with them.  She will never meet her soul mate, the man of her dreams.  She will never get married and have children of her own.  Everyone has moved beyond her loss and gotten on with their lives while I am left behind trying to make sense of it all.

I hate that all I have to remember her are memories that I try to hold on to, grasp with all my might, that I'm so afraid will slip away.  Memories that flash through my mind, some taking me so by surprise that I am left gasping.

I hate that I couldn't save her, couldn't heal her, didn't understand enough to help.  It's tragic that the last sight I ever had was of her laid out in her coffin.  She was too young to have had to have a funeral and to be buried in the ground.  It feels so wrong that I have to visit her at a cemetery.  It's not enough to create a memorial garden, to wear jewelry that commemorates her or find other ways to honor her.

And I hate that I am lost, that I don't see my living child, my son, and his family often enough.  I'm sad that he hasn't seen Tiffany's grave site but once in 4 years.  It's difficult for me to keep up communications with friends and loved ones; isolation is so tempting and easy.  Sometimes, I feel as if I were drifting away.

But...there is much to love.  I love that she graced us with her life and walked this earth.  That she touched many other people.  I loved raising her and seeing her grow into a beautiful young woman.  I love that she had some happiness and success and at times, that she had fun.  I loved doing things with her and for her, talking to her and just being with her.  I love that I have her animals to take care of and remind me of her.  I love that I have someone to help me through this horrible journey and that there are those who support me, even if I hold them at a distance.

I love every single thing about Tiffany, the good and the not-so-good!  I love her as much today and the day she left as I did on the balmy, summer-like day that she entered this world.

“The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -- But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.”
-- Hilary Stanton Zunin

I Had a Dream

I had a dream about Tiffany last night.  It may have been triggered by a conversation that Paul and I had over dinner last night.  We were talking about what we were going to do on Saturday around the house.  Paul said that I should go shopping since it was going to rain but I wasn't in favor of the idea.  He didn't understand why not because he knew that I enjoyed shopping.  I told him that I didn't enjoy shopping at all anymore now that Tiffany was gone.  Now I only go shopping when I have to get something or buy a gift and that there was nothing, not one thing, that I enjoyed about going to the stores just to window shop or walk around.  And I remember him saying to me that Tiffany wouldn't have wanted that but I just can't help it.

Of course, my dream begins with me shopping...surprise.  I walked into a store that was somewhat familiar but I couldn't put a name to the store at this time.  I was looking for a pocketbook, a particular kind, but I can't say now what particular features I wanted.  I walked around the store and saw a handbag up on a stand.  I took it down, looked at it and hung it back up as it wasn't exactly what I wanted.  I didn't hang it up quite right so I fiddled around with it until it was back the way it had been.  I wandered around again, looking at all kinds of bags, drawn by the glittery ones but they had bows and ribbons as if they were for young girls.  I was getting frustrated so I decided to pick up a bag of dog food in the store.  I'm not sure why they sold dog food there but it was in a different section.

I remembered that they had an upper level to the store where they had more expensive handbags and I was a little hesitant but figured I would go after all.  I asked the clerk to hold the dog food for me and moseyed on upstairs.  I didn't find what I was looking for but there was a catalog on one of the tables that I picked up.  I walked back downstairs and out the door.  As I went up the street, I suddenly saw a billboard that advertised the store I had just left.  On the billboard, larger than life was Tiffany, modeling their clothes.  I thought to myself, "Oh my god, that's where she's been all this time!".  She looked so beautiful...just like herself only her hair was cut short to just above her shoulders.  I was surprised by that because she hated her hair that short.  I looked down at the catalog in my hand and started to flip through it.  And there she was...modeling different clothes in different poses.  In one of them, she was reclining on a bench with her feet up on a table and her arms on a ledge behind her...so relaxed.  She was wearing a sweater and skirt with tights and cute shoes.  I was somewhat shocked because I never knew she had any interest in modeling and I thought how perfect it was for her.  She looked so sure of herself and comfortable in her own skin.

I rushed back to the store with the intent to find out where she was.  I went up to the clerk who was holding the dog food and asked her about the model in the catalog.  I was frantic and emotional.  When I looked up, there was Tiffany standing there, beautiful as ever.  I started to cry and asked her why she had disappeared for so long.  I was quite angry with her for doing that.  My sense was that she had cut off contact with me much as she did when I discovered she had an eating disorder.  I was so distraught, crying and walking aimlessly around the store, people looking at me wondering what was going on.  Then Tiffany handed me a long roll of something that she had written on.  The first thing I read was that she was seeing someone named Peter.  I was sobbing so hard that I couldn't quite make out his last name but thought it might be the son of someone I went to school with.  She looked at me sheepishly and said that I would probably be upset that she was seeing the son of a sheriff.  I looked back at the writing and saw that she had written that she was seeing the son of Sheriff Mark Alden, who was a boy named Peter (don't ask me who that is, I have no clue).  I told her that was no problem and that I wasn't upset.  I read more of this roll of writing but I can't remember the details now.  There was something she had written where she had crossed out some negative word but I think the gist of it was that she had found happiness.  There were also comments about how she had been waiting for me to make contact and why hadn't I contacted her.  I told her it was because she had cut off all ties to me but I realized then that she had been waiting for me to reach out and find her.

As I stood there in shock, relief and wonder, a man came up to me and asked me if I had found my daughter.  I replied with great happiness, "Yes, I found her!".  Then I woke up...

Third Year of a Life Lost

I wonder when the crying stops?  When does the pain lessen?  When does the longing for your youngest child, your only daughter, one of your two very best friends go away?  The answer is never.  Sometimes it barely subsides.

It seems like I have written reams about Tiffany, both about good times and about her struggles with bulimia and other issues.  But the truth is that it doesn't matter one iota.  What matters is that she is my daughter, flesh of my flesh, born of my body.  She, along with Troy, filled my heart and soul with love and joy and happiness and hope and peace and everything that is good on this earth.  Now half of that heart and soul is missing, leaving a huge hole there that nothing yet has been able to fill.

For the weeks leading up to Tiffany's 3rd anniversary, I experienced some of the most profound depression, other than in the months after Tiffany died, that I have ever dealt with.  I longed and prayed for death to take me because I could not bear the agony of knowing that I would never see Tiffany again.  There was no joy or light in my world; nothing but darkness and bitter grief.  Life had no purpose without my child in it and I no longer felt like a mother.  Troy was physically far away from me and seemingly self-sufficient.  As a mother, I was no longer needed to perform the role that had been my life for more than 20 years.  I was lost in a blackness of being that was all-encompassing and I saw no way out other than to wait for death to have its way.

Yet every day I woke up to face another day -- to put one step in front of the other.  The anniversary arrived and I pushed myself to honor that day.  I brought a bottle of Relax Reisling to toast her memory and we drank in her honor.  Under the umbrella in the pouring rain, I read a poem called "The Cord" to represent the bond between Tiffany and me.  And of course, there were the balloons and the one that got away, somehow escaping from the tie of the ribbon.  And I made it through that day.

Now that day is passed and I am numb again.  Going through the motions of life and trying to keep forging ahead.  Once again, I have had to make a decision to live life as best I can.  So I'm going to a nutritionist to try to lose the weight I gained in 2012, a fact which fills me with despair.  I have made a conscious effort to increase my exercise by walking on the treadmill and around the neighborhood.  And I try to keep telling myself that I cannot do to my loved ones what Tiffany did in the throws of unbearable pain.  I cannot do that to the son whose mother I still am or deprive my grandchildren of their grandma or Paul of the woman he asked to marry him.

Although I can laugh and be happy at times, there will always be that deep underlying sadness to everything I do.  I don't expect that to ever go away, no matter how much time passes.  I will never be the whole person that I was.  A part of me will always be missing.  Time will change the essence of my grief, ebbing and flowing in my being but ever there to overwhelm me unexpectedly.  It's a bit frightening to think that this will be what my life will be like for the rest of my days but I must endure.

I would be remiss not to mention the impact of the death of Robin Williams on me.  Like the untimely death of Cory Monteith of Glee fame, I am thrown back in all its pain to the night I found Tiffany stiff and motionless in her bed.  Oh how those thoughts haunt me down to my soul!  At that moment and for some time after, I wondered what drove my lovely daughter to take her life but today I wonder no longer.  I think I can understand some small measure of what she must have been feeling.  I comprehend how she could have sunk into a despair that was like no other and from which she could not overcome.  How one more setback or one more unbearable thing could have pushed her over the edge.  And my heart breaks for her and for Robin Williams and everyone touched by suicide -- the survivors, the bereaved and the lost.

So let us remember our loved ones in all their living glory, perfect and flawed.  Pay homage to their memory, be forever grateful for the time we had with them and hope to meet them again wherever death leads us.

Butterflies

Where are all the butterflies?  The first year, they were everywhere.  The second year, I only saw one lone butterfly in April, flying through the Serenity Garden.  This year, the third year, nary a butterfly to be found...

All summer everyone has talked about the butterflies they have seen...the ones that have followed them, the ones that have landed on them, the ones that have appeared the minute they have stepped outside. Sometimes there are more than one and many times they are Monarch butterflies. It's as if they were guardian angels in the guise of butterflies...as if Tiffany were saying:

"I'll be your keeper for life as your guardian
I'll be your warrior of care, your first warden
I'll be your angel on call, I'll be on demand
The greatest honor of all, as your guardian"
-- Alanis Morisette

Sept 16, 2012

Charlotte, NC - June 24, 2012

June 25, 2012

My beloved daughter, Tiffany, sweetly sleeping…

It has been one year since the world as I knew it came to a shattering end.  I didn’t know how I was going to go on and all I could think about was “if only” and all the things I should have, would have, could have done to prevent what happened.  For months, I lived in the shadow world of extreme pain and suffering, hating every minute of being “weak” and feeling as if the grief was going to swallow me whole.

In the meantime, you have been working overtime in Heaven, creating mischief and wreaking havoc with your brother, Jordan, and another little angel called Gabriel.

“Kiss me good-bye, I’m defying gravity” (Elphaba from Wicked)

But, oh, what wondrous things have occurred in the time you’ve been gone.  Who knew that out of great hardship and sadness, amazing things could happen?

For how I can explain the gift of friendship I have known from so many people?  How can I explain the number of people who have watched over me and worried about me and cared about me even when I didn’t want to see the love that surrounded me?  I have been unbelievably fortunate during the most difficult past months and have found new relationships in so many different ways.  My relationship with Troy, Kelly and Hunter has grown ever closer, despite the distance between us.  The hole that was ripped in my heart with your passing has slowly grown smaller, although it will never go away, through these new relationships.  I feel as if I’ve gained a whole other family to love and care about, now that you are no longer here.  For that, I thank you for watching over me and loving me, my sweet one.

I am so glad to have been your Mom for the time you were here and I feel your presence everywhere.  Memories of you are sparked all around me.  How can I ever forget the “milk” story?  That was the time back in 1990 when we arrived back home from the grocery store and you and Troy were helping me bring the groceries in.  All of a sudden, there was milk spilt everywhere and Troy insisting you had done it.  You were so indignant and so hurt when I punished you by not allowing you to wear your new shoes (yes, even then you loved shoes).  Then years later, I found out that it really wasn’t you but Troy who dropped the milk.  Oh my, how awful I felt then but what joy we got out of telling that story.

And what about the story of the Mother’s Day Card?  You were never one to enjoy giving cards for different occasions.  You thought that cards were a waste of money since they eventually ended up in the garbage.  So you resisted giving cards to people, even me.  One day, not too many Mother’s Days ago, we were strolling through a card store, looking for cards when you asked me to read a card that you had picked up.  It was for “Mom” and it was a beautiful and meaningful card for a mother.  I told you how much I liked the card, to which you replied, “I hope you enjoyed it cause it’s your mother’s day card” and proceeded to put the card back into the rack.  Only you could have thought of something so unique.

Yes, you were unique…a one-of-a-kind person, an angel sent by God to grace our lives for a short period of time.  I wish you could have stayed longer and realized all the plans that you had.  One of the plans you had was to build a separate living area for me when you got married.  Not because you wanted to have me close to you so badly, but because you wanted me to take care of your children while you were working.  It wasn’t quite to my liking but I would give my right arm now just for the privilege of seeing you have children and I would embrace the chance to watch over my grandchildren.

There are so many other stories and memories I remember but I’ll save those for another day.  I have the rest of my life to remember you in all your sheer beauty… heart, soul and body.

Thank you for all the miracles of life resulting from what I can only assume is your intervention.  Either that, or you have charmed God, the angels, saints, etc. to give you the help you need.  Whatever the case may be, from the birds and butterflies to the practical things like education loans, I see the hand of Heaven everywhere.

Although I have moved on to a new life without you, clearly divided by the before and after, I have tried to overcome my pain and to be as happy as I know how because I know it is what you would have wanted.  You are there with me every step of the way, in my heart and in my mind, never, ever to be forgotten.

One of the last things that I ever said to you, in a text unfortunately which you never saw, was that I love you more than life itself.  I wonder if you had gotten that text whether the outcome would have been different.  But that is not for me to say so I can only reiterate that I will love you until the end of time, until the day I die.

So I’ll leave you here today with the words of a song that always seems to play on the radio when I’m in the car.  It’s from “If I Die Young” by the Band Perry.

“If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother

She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh well,

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no,

Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby”

Always, forever and ever…

Love,

Mom

The Coach Key Chain & a Broken Heart

I watched Phantom of the Opera last night and remembered when we saw it on Broadway with your godmother in NYC.  And the other day, I found your wax hand from Madame Tussaud's, probably from the same trip.  Sometimes I don't think my heart will ever be whole again.  Like the Coach key chain you got me after my first trip to India.  Remember how the crystal fell out of the heart and I put a substitute in?  Well, that one fell out, too.  I have been to every Coach store trying to find one I could take the heart off of but no luck.  I finally found one on ebay that I'm bidding on but, of course, it won't be the same.  My little key chain and I will still have a broken heart.  I love you and miss you so much.

Remembering Tiffany Gallo (Facebook)
August 9, 2011
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote this just a month and half or so after you were gone.  The story of the key chain has a somewhat happy ending.  I had exhausted every effort to find the same key chain...it meant so much to me.  Of course, mostly because you had given it to me but also because also because of the reason you gave it to me...for Breast Cancer in memory of your grandmother.  I even went so far as to write to Coach but it was a lost cause.  I ended up buying one from eBay just to get that heart.

However, shortly after I bought the key chain from eBay, a wonderful thing happened.  Nancy and Nicole were in Atlantic City and they found a key chain -- not the same one -- but one that had that pink heart.  That was really the most important part.  Nicole called me and was so excited that at first I didn't know what she was talking about.  When she told me what they had found, I immediately asked  if they could buy it for me.  And they did...because they knew how broken my heart was, not just about the key chain, but about losing you.

 

Upon their return, they came to my house to give me the key chain and Nicole insisted that it was a gift from her.  I was so very touched.  She also gave me a card which brought tears to my eyes, it was so beautiful.  She told me that even though she could never replace you, she was there for me whenever I needed.

  

I haven't yet replaced the heart on the key chain and I don't carry it with me anymore.  I have it tucked away in a safe place...for now.  In the time being, I have little mementos of you that I carry with me.  There's only one key on the chain...the car key.  Everything else is something that reminds me of you.  I have a tag that I gave you for your birthday -- I think it was your 18th -- with your name and Happy Birthday on it.  A Coach key chain that your Jeep key was on with a moon and stars silly band still remaining on it.  There were 3 other silly bands but they have since broken off and gotten lost.  The Breast Cancer heart from Coach that you carried, as well, with a bobby pin clipped onto it.  And lastly the key chain from the funeral home with "In memory of Tiffany Marie" engraved on it.

 

My heart is still broken and will forever be so...