The Ones That Come Before Us
From left to right: my grandmas, Gerda and Emma, my mom (still alive), and my dad, Fritz
I had a dream last night…
…and in it both of my grandmas and my dad who have all passed on came to visit me (my mom was there too but to be clear she is very much alive and this just happens to be one photo I could find with all of them together).
Since my dad passed about 8 years ago, I have seen and known that he is guiding me and with me in a way he maybe didn’t know how to do in his human form.
My grandmas, I have come to see, are also there in that spirit world guiding me too.
Last night was the first time all 3 have visited me at the same time, together.
(It will help paint the picture to say that I am crying as I write this — it feels so emotional to see that there are people / beings who care about you so much that they support you so fully when you believe you’ve been alone for much of your life).
My family all comes from Germany; my grandmas lived through a war while trying to build families and my mom’s mom also survived her husband who died young and she did all of these things like open a restaurant and move to the states (more than once) — and what sits so deeply with me at my age now, is that everything they went through and did, paved the way for me to be where I am today. Their lives opened up doors for me to experience a much more abundant, peaceful life than what any of them had to go through.
I don’t take this for granted; I could write so much about how unrooted I feel in the states because my family isn’t from here, but at the same time, it is often those who have had to reroot that develop the strength and courage to know and live as they are — that is, if they’re willing to.
My dad, as I’ve written before, he was a very sensitive soul who never learned how to let go of things which ailed him — he and I are very similar, I have come to see, except that because he passed, I got to see what not letting go did to him and was set out on my path to learn differently.
I feel closer to my dad in death than I ever did in life, simply because I know he is free now and I know he sees and guides me and knows exactly what the truth is and is constantly supporting me to see it and live it.
He is, for sure, part of my soul group.
I have a piece of writing I put together maybe a year ago (not published yet, but maybe soon) that talks about how when people die, your relationship with them doesn’t end. It does and can continue, it’s just that the form it takes is a bit different than when they were human.
I feel this way very about my dad — his soul, who he is, is still very present in my life: he is there when I hear the birds he used to love so much chirping in my yard, he is there when I see his very unusual and un-American name pop up in the most curious of places, and he is definitely there when he shows up in my dreams.
Because that is the thing — none of this is by chance. The ones who come before us are as much a part of our life and our story as the ones who come to join us. We wouldn’t be who we are and where we are if our parents and ancestors didn’t live as they did or make the choices they made.
And whether that’s created something outwardly easy or tough for you, the gift remains present: you are always given the exact medicine your soul needs to come into knowing itself even more deeply.
You just have to learn to see it,
be brave enough to live it,
And in the moments you feel scared and unsure of how to keep going, remember that you are never alone in any of this: you have with you the strength and love of all those who came before you.
It is not by chance that you ended up where you are, but by the perfect unfolding of everything that is, has been, and will be. And my goodness, how supported and loved you are through it all.
AUTHOR’S NOTE#100daysofwriting | This essay is the fourteenth in a series of 100 I am challenging myself to write (it used to be before the end of the year 2022, but now… it is just 100 pieces in whatever timeframe happens ton unfold).
Will the writing be perfect? No. Will it be done? Yes. As a life-long recovering perfectionist who loves to write but fears subpar work, to write with such frequency and disregard for most standards except the one that asks, is it published? will be an adventure, to say the least.
Topics, I’m sure, will span the breadth of seriousness to silliness, will cover the grounds of spirituality to observations I may make in a nail salon, but truthfully, there are no promises in such a challenge, except to say that yes — they will be done.
You can keep up with my writing challenge by following me on Medium, or subscribing to my email list.
And, as always, if anything resonates — let me know in the comments.
To your most beautiful unfolding,
Cristina
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