Alex Marcoux is a bestselling and award-winning author of lesbian literature and the New Thought author of Lifesigns: Tapping the Power of Synchronicity, Serendipity and Miracles.

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A Message from the Universe about My Departed Mother

Posted by on in Spirituality
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messages from the universeThose closest to me know that I watch my world to receive messages from the Universe. There is intelligence all around us. Call it the God, Spirit, the Universe, call it whatever you're comfortable with. When we are open to receive the Universe's messages, miracles happen.

A day doesn't go by without thinking about my mother who transitioned in 2008. With Mother's Day here, I thought I'd share a story which is published in my new book, Lifesigns: Tapping the Power of Synchronicity, Serendipity and Miracles. It's a story about how I received a message from Spirit about my mom. It reveals how simple, unrelated things can relay powerful messages when we are open to it.

Mom and Her Fudge

A Message from the Universe about My Departed MotherI was preoccupied as I walked into a grocery store. It had been one month since I received a phone call from a hospice nurse who told me my mother had taken a turn. They had started her on morphine drip. I remembered.

"How bad is it?" I asked the nurse. "Do I need to make arrangements to come home?"

"I don't know. She could rally in the morning. I'd hate to have you come all this way and it not be the time!

I knew that as my mother's pain management medication increased she would become less responsive and less aware of her surroundings. It was hard to squeak out those words, "I don't want to come home just for a funeral. I want to be able to talk to my mom."

"Then you'd better come now," the hospice nurse told me.

Within hours, my son and I were on a plane to Massachusetts. We arrived at the long-term-care facility around midnight. Much to my disappointment, by the time we got there my mother wasn't coherent. I held her hand and told her I was there but, other than eyebrow movements, there was no response. Her eyes didn't open, and she didn't speak.

Each family member spent some alone moments with her, and privately said goodbye. When it was my turn, I told her she had been a wonderful mother and I thanked her. I also reminded her of a request I had made of her years earlier. "Don't forget Mom, after you pass, when the time is right, let me know you're okay. You'll know how to do it. Just send me a sign."

My family went home to get some rest in those early morning hours. I couldn't bear to leave. I stayed with her that night, sitting beside her, holding her hand. About four o'clock that morning her fever spiked. There was very little that could be done. My mother had appeared unresponsive for hours. One of the nurses yelled into her ear, "Do you want a Fudgsicle?"

Surprisingly, my mother stirred and her eyebrows danced with expression. The nurse and I laughed. Even on my mother's death bed she showed excitement at a Fudgsicle. Oh, how my mother loved her fudge! She was one of those people who seemed to inhale it. If it contained chocolate, she loved it.

About ten hours later when the entire family was present, my mother passed peacefully. While we wept for our loss, my two-year old nephew uncharacteristically sat quietly in the corner of the room. He unexpectedly said, "Bye! Bye! Memere!"

Within a week I returned to my home in Colorado. Every morning I asked for a sign to let me know she was okay. But the signs didn't come. Or I missed them.

Exactly one month from the eve of her passing I was in my neighborhood grocery store. I pushed my cart through the self-checkout register. While scanning my ice cream, the grocery clerk responsible for the six self-checkout registers took the item from me and bagged it.

"Thanks," I told him.

He hung with me oddly, taking each grocery item as I scanned it, and bagged them.

As he propped open a second bag for my groceries he asked, "Should I go out tonight or should I make fudge?"

"Excuse me?"

"Should I go to the movies with my friends, or stay home and make fudge for my mother?"

I smiled a bit, remembering how my mother loved fudge, then eyed the man. "Make fudge for your mother!" I told him.

"Yeah! You're right! We never know how long they're going to be with us . . . our mothers I mean!"

'Could this be a message about mom?' I wondered.

I swiped my credit card, pondering the words the clerk had spoken, 'fudge–mother–not knowing how long they're with us.' I took my receipt.

"Is this your birthday?" he asked out of nowhere.

It wasn't my birthday, though it was only a week away. At that moment I knew I had received a sign and a birthday greeting, my mother was okay.

If you would like to learn more about how to tap this intelligence and get messages from the Universe, visit Synchronicity Book.

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Award-winning novelist, screenwriter and author of "Lifesigns: Tapping the Power of Synchronicity, Serendipity and Miracles."

Comments

  • Guest
    Andretti Saturday, 11 May 2013

    I love this story, and am wondering if your book is available in audiobook format. please inbox me at facebook/andrettiandretti

    Thank you,
    May your day be filled with miracles, and may you be blessed with the ability to see every one of them.
    Andretti

  • Guest
    Sara Sunday, 12 May 2013

    This is an uplifting personal story that makes us realize how special our mothers make the world, and how they never really leave us--unless they take a brief moment to eat some heavenly fudge once in a while! So generous of you to share this intimate memory, and I am sure your mom is pleased to have the limelight when she is the source of such warm and happy remembrances. :D

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Guest Monday, 25 September 2017

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