I began writing a series on immigration almost two years ago. The book was about three-fourths completed and even though I knew how it would continue to unfold; I slacked on finishing it. But after an encouraging message this past week from a dear friend of mine, I opened the file where I had left off and completed it. I’m not sure if it will be a hit or not. I am happy with the results but was nervous about publishing.
Immigration is a hot topic in the United States. While some fight for the rights of North Americans, others advocate for human rights regardless of where you are from. Everyone knows how it should be or has an opinion to give. But no one really knows what goes on during the process. This story is the first issue of a series on immigration. What made the immigrants run away from their country? The process they went through when arriving in North America. Their daily struggles before becoming an American citizen. I based this series on true stories expressed by current immigrants living in the United States.
Here’s an excerpt from the Book
Carmen had a good life in Colombia. She was a widow raising four children on her own after a serious illness took her husband’s life. After her husband’s death, she overcame the tragic event of his death and, with determination, lifted her family. Carmen had a house, job, health, and a loving family. But another family tragedy put their lives in danger. She never thought they would take her away from the only life she had known to save her and her children from the guerilla. Now Carmen must fend for herself and her children in the United States with the uncertainty of ever going back to her native country of Colombia.
COVID struck in my family. As much as some of us tried to steer away from crowds and gatherings to protect our 81-year-old mother, it wasn’t enough. Mom caught the virus, and it was not pretty. It frustrated me to hear people downplaying it like the flu and saying Mom was pretending. People who did not bother to check on her while sick in her apartment, call while she was at the hospital, or even inquire about her health. It’s okay to believe whatever, it’s each one’s choice and we are all individual beings. But to downplay a condition when they know nothing about medicine, are not healthcare workers, and were not there to see what was going on is downright wrong.
Mom Does Not Feel Well
On February 24th, Mom told me she was not feeling well. I asked her what were the symptoms? She said she felt a lot of body ache, sore throat, tiredness, a lot of coughing, and a weird metallic taste in her mouth.
“Do you have a fever?” I asked.
“No, I don’t have a fever,” she responded.
It concerned me because she lives alone in an apartment with only her dog as a companion. My thought was she had COVID. Although I live quite close to her, the thought of me contracting the virus and spread it to my family worried me. But I needed to help Mom. I continued to call a few times a day to check on her status and brought over foods she requested or I knew would help nourish her. I took her dog, Precious, home with me thinking it’d be less work for her since she did not have to feed or walk Precious. But Mom called asking me to bring Precious back home because she missed her, so I did. I always wore my mask and never got near to Mom, hug or kiss her even though I wanted to. It hurt to see her so sick.
“Mom, let’s go to the doctor,” I said a few times.
“No, I don’t want to go, but I’ll call my doctor and let her know what’s going on,” she promised.
Mom made good on her promise and contacted her physician. They sent Mom for a chest x-ray, which she did the following Monday.
About a week into Mom’s illness, when I called her, she did not answer the call. It was about 9:00 a.m. I figured she’s asleep, and since I had two appointments that day, I thought I’d call her after my first appointment. The phone rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. “She’s probably taking Precious for a walk. I’ll call after my second appointment,” I thought to myself.
It was 3:00 p.m. when I tried ringing her again and no answer. I worried me she wasn’t responding, so I drove directly to her home. It’s a good thing I have a key to her apartment and could enter without problems. However, in my rush to check in on Mom, I forgot to wear a mask.
Precious was barking incessantly as I walked in. “Mom!” I called out, but no answer. I dashed straight into her bedroom where I found Mom all bundled up on her bed. “Mom,” I yelled out and nothing. “Mom,” I called again and nudged her until she finally opened her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Not realizing how long she had slept, “I’m okay,” she responded.
“I’ve been trying to reach you, but you didn’t answer the phone,” I told her.
“I didn’t hear the phone,” she said. “The doctor gave me a prescription for the cough and it makes me sleepy.”
“Okay,” I replied. “So what was the chest x-ray diagnosis?” I asked.
“She said my lungs are clear,” Mom responded.
“Did she send you to get tested for COVID?” I asked.
“No,” Mom responded.
“Mom, I think you should get tested. I’ll take you and get myself tested too,” I told her.
“I don’t want to get tested. Besides, I’m feeling better,” she responded.
“You don’t look better. Did you eat?” I asked.
“I’m not hungry, Mom replied.
“Mom, you need to eat something. Tell you what. I haven’t had lunch yet. How about if we order something to eat? What would you like?”
“I’m not hungry, but some soup sounds good,” she said.
“Okay, I’ll order some soup for both of us from Panera Bread,” and I placed the order.
Caring for My Ailing Mom
We sat down together and chatted while we waited for our lunch to arrive. She was not her total self but was happy that I was there with her. When our order arrived, we sat together at the dining table and ate. Unfortunately, she could only eat about three spoonfuls of soup and wanted no more. She claimed the metal taste in her mouth made her nauseous. It concerned me she wasn’t eating properly.
Looking in her refrigerator, I saw that the meals I had brought over for her to eat during the week were half eaten or not even touched and still in her fridge. I spent a few more hours with her until she could no longer stay awake and wanted to go to sleep. I stayed until Precious ate and I could take her downstairs for her walk and made sure Mom was not needing anything else, then I went home. Once at home, I realized that while I was with Mom; I did not use a mask. There was nothing I could do now. How long was Mom contagious, I didn’t know. I could only pray I didn’t catch whatever Mom had.
It was not easy but I continued to monitor Mom and tried to help as much as possible. Between work and my home, I couldn’t spend much time with her. It worried me to see how much weight she had lost. She was not eating at all, and I doubt she was drinking any water since she complained about the metallic taste.
We Need to Get Tested
That weekend I could finally convince her to get tested with me. So on Sunday night, I told her I’d pick her up after work on Monday and we’d both get tested. However, she claimed she didn’t want to go because three family members told her that if she got tested, she would definitely test positive because everyone that gets tested, comes out positive.
I was livid! How dare they impose their beliefs on an 80-year-old? They were not there to see how sick she looked, how much weight she’d lost, and how much she needed a diagnosis to properly care for her healing. I contacted the persons who misinformed her and demanded they corrected their wrongdoing. They promised they would speak with her if they needed to. Fortunately, she accepted to go with me the next day.
On Monday, March 8th, after work, I picked Mom up and headed to the testing center. Mom was so weak and could barely walk. I felt terrible to see my Mom like this but was glad she accepted to be tested. We wouldn’t get our results until Wednesday, so I dropped Mom off at her home and went straight to mine.
I Trusted My Intuition
That night was quite restless for me. I am a very intuitive person and something kept telling me to go over to my Mom’s house. I was up by 6:00 a.m. on Tuesday. Therefore, I prepared myself and was about to leave when my husband asked me, “where are you going?”
“I’m going to Mom’s house,” I responded.
“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast first?” he asked.
“No, I’ll make breakfast over there and hopefully she’ll eat with me,” I replied, and I was off to Mom’s.
Even though I had spoken and seen her during the week, I had not been inside her apartment since the previous Wednesday and I was in shock at what I walked into.
Another Sign Mom Was Not Well
Mom is a clean freak. Her home is always super neat, clean, and aromatic. But as I walked in, I was struck with a horrific smell. There were dirty dishes in the sink, the garbage needed taking out, and all those times she said she was taking Precious out for her walks—well; it wasn’t true. The garbage bins in her kitchen and bathroom were full of pee-pee pads, which were soiled—a sign Precious was not walked. Mom was a bit confused when I walked in with the breakfast groceries. The first thing I did was take the garbage out and disinfect the apartment, feed the dog, and take her out for a walk before beginning breakfast.
Confusion and Delirium Began
Once back, I began with breakfast. At that moment, Mom told me she had not paid the rent and asked if I could take the check to the office, to which I replied I could. She got up from the sofa and walked into her bedroom when suddenly I heard a loud thump.
I ran into her bedroom and there laid Mom on the floor. She had lost her balance and fell. I tried helping her up, but she had no strength and I couldn’t get her up. She kept her right hand as if she was holding something. I monitored her, thinking she might have a seizure because of the way she was moving her hand.
“Is your hand hurting Mom?” I asked.
“No, hold this,” she said, but there was nothing in her hand.
“There’s nothing there, Mom. What do you want me to hold?” I asked.
“Here, hold it!” she yelled.
I didn’t know what was going on and I couldn’t help her get up, so I contacted my husband to stop by before he left to work. But Mom was so weak, she couldn’t sustain herself for us to get her up, so I had no other choice than to call 911. I stayed with her while they arrived. She seemed confused and didn’t look well at all. The paramedics arrived in less than 15 minutes. They could not get any straight answers from her. She seemed confused, delirious, very weak, and her vitals were a bit off. She’s a diabetic, and if she was not eating, that was not doing her any good. The Paramedics transported her to the hospital.
She Tested Positive
I was glad that Mom went to the hospital because I knew she would get the proper care she needed. Other than vitals taken, they tested again her for COVID, but the results would be in on that same day. However, I noticed she was very forgetful. I thought maybe she was tired but there was also the incident at her apartment which told me something else was going on. Then the results came in. Mom tested positive for COVID and was going into isolation. The nurses changed Mom into a hospital gown and gave me her clothes. They did not allow me to go into Mom’s room or even say goodbye to her.
“Can I at least hand the cell phone to her?” I asked.
“I’ll give it to her,” said the nurse, and she handed me a sheet with instructions to follow in order to see Mom the next day.
Once home, I called the number on the sheet and scheduled an appointment to see Mom. The hospital policy was one visitor per day for 30 minutes. I had to be suited up with protective gear provided by the hospital and follow certain rules before going in and after exiting the room. I was okay with that just as long as I could visit Mom. Once done with scheduling the appointment, I returned to her apartment to clean and disinfect it and took Precious home with me. I was not about to leave her alone in the apartment. Also, I had to make sure that Mom’s apartment was in optimal condition before she came home.
That Was Not My Mom
The next day I visited Mom. She seemed so frail in that hospital bed. She was silent and said she felt extremely tired. I spent 30 minutes with her until they kicked me out. Once at home at around 5:30 p.m. I received a call from Mom. Since my son was with me at that moment, I put her on speaker.
“Hi Mom, how are you?” I asked.
“Why did you leave?” she asked.
“Because they didn’t allow me to stay any longer,” I responded.
“But, how am I going to get home? I don’t know my way home,” she said.
At that point, both my son and I noticed this was not Mom. “You’re staying there tonight, Mom. Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” I replied and changed the conversation. “Did you eat, Mom?” I asked.
“I’m eating now,” she responded.
“What are you eating?”
“Mac and cheese, and, umm, umm, I don’t know,” she said.
We said a few more things and hung up. However, that conversation was puzzling to me and my son. It was as if she had dementia or something like it.
The next day, Thursday, March 11th, the ringing of the phone awakened at 6:00 a.m. It was Mom’s nurse calling. Apparently, Mom tried leaving and was yanking the tubes off so she had to be restrained. The nurse didn’t want me to be surprised when I got there. It was disturbing to me to hear this. Mom was not a belligerent person. My appointment was not until 2:00 p.m. and they did not allow me to go in any earlier. However, when I arrived at the hospital, she was no longer in isolation. Further testing showed her plasma levels were higher than expected, which meant she had COVID for some time and therefore no longer contagious. I could stay with her for as long as I wanted.
The Moment I Panicked the Most
However, as I walked in towards Mom, it broke my heart. They physically restrained her arms from the bed. I understand it was for her own good, but it was horrific to see. She didn’t know who she was, or who I was. Even though she joked with the nurses and doctors, it wasn’t my Mom. I did not know this woman, and she did not know me. It devastated me. Mom was seeing things that were not there. She kept talking as if her dog was there with her. Kept fumbling with the sheets as if actually doing something and would ask me to hold whatever imaginary thing she had in her hand. I told her a few times that she’d be out of there soon and I will take her home, but she said she didn’t know me and wasn’t going home with me. She kept on trying to sit up and get off the bed, but had no strength to do either. And she talked so many incoherent things.
I asked the nurse what happened to her, to which she responded, “You mean she’s normally not like this?”
“Not at all!,” I replied. “My Mom is an independent woman who lives by herself, has family get-togethers where she cooks, lives on a second floor with no elevators, takes her dog for daily walks twice a day, does arts and crafts, and drives!”
“Oh no,” responded the nurse. “We’ll have to get a neurologist to see her.”
Trying to Bring Mom Back
It was killing me to see her like this. I contacted my siblings and family members and asked they call her through FaceTime. We needed to jog her memory. I wanted my Mom back! Many family members called and even though she did not recognize them, she associated them with the correct family, so that was good. But it wasn’t enough. Mom kept on trying to pull herself out of the bed and constantly yanked on all the tubes and cables. The weekend seemed like an eternity. I cried and prayed so much and spend the weekend with her at the hospital. I wanted to stay overnight but, again, hospital policy did not allow it. But I was there as soon as visiting time began at 8:00 a.m. until 9:00 p.m. when they kicked me out. During that time, I talked to her a lot, trying to jog her memory, tried to feed her, gave her water, and tried everything possible to help her regain her strength. It was frightening not knowing what might happen.
The neurologist came by and could not believe that this woman was an independent person. He truly believed she had dementia and told me not to get my hopes up because at her age, even if she didn’t have dementia before, but after what she’s been through with the virus most likely she would never recuperate and never be independent again. That was devastating news, and I knew I had to prepare for anything. She was turning 81-years-old on March 21st, so maybe the neurologist was right. But no! My Mom comes from a long life family line. Her dad died at 96 and his memory was perfect until the day he died. And my grandmother will turn 98 years old in July and her mind is perfectly well. Heck, my grandma will recite poems from when she was 8-years-old. I could not fathom my Mom becoming senile at 80. I summoned all my prayer warriors and healers for my Mom’s health and I know they all put in their best efforts.
Feeling of Joy
On Sunday, March 14th, I arrived at the hospital as usual. I took a photo album with me to show her. I needed to try everything possible to help her regain her memory. She was asleep when I arrived. Once she opened her eyes, I noticed she would not move her arms or legs. She wouldn’t speak either. I tried to feed her breakfast, but she refused. So I offered to show her some photos to which she nodded yes. I began showing her the photos—especially the ones of her. I noticed tears streaming down her face from the corner of her eyes while she struggled to speak.
“Why am I here? Why am I like this?” she asked.
“Because you tested positive for COVID and were very sick,” I responded.
“I was?” she asked.
At that moment, the nurses walked in.
“Yes, you were. Do you know who I am?” I asked.
Mom nodded yes, and the nurse asked her, “Who is this lady?”
“She’s my daughter,” Mom responded.
I was so happy to hear her say that. Then I asked, “What’s my name?”
“Debbie,” she replied.
It was such a joyous moment. Even the nurses were tearing up. They took the restraints off. She still could not get up, but seemed to get better. She was still too weak. However, on that day, the Physical Therapist helped Mom to the chair in the room. Followed by taking a few steps the next day and so on. On Tuesday, March 16th, the doctor discharged Mom from the hospital with home care help until she regains her strength. Her mind is 98% back and is getting stronger each day.
Returning Back Home
My Mom is a stubborn woman and didn’t want to come back home to my house. She was adamant it had to be to her home. Therefore, with little strength and the help of my son, she walked up those stairs to her apartment. I moved in temporarily with her so I could care for her. A week in and she kicked me out of her apartment. My Mom was finally back! Never have I been so happy to be kicked out of any place!
Oh, and by the way. My test came back negative. See? Not everyone tests positive!
NOTE: Further COVID research shows that delirium and confusion are also side-effects of the virus among the elderly or as young as 50 years old. To read about particular cases go to COVID – Delirium, and Confusion for the latest CDC updates.
“Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?” ~ John 11:25-26
I have written quite a few times about how I found my niche at the Church of Spiritual Awakening. I visited several Spiritualist churches going back and forth from church to church trying to get a feel or a sense of belonging. It took me a while to realize where I belonged.
The Church of Spiritual Awakening is unlike many other churches. Many of us believe in God, Lord, the Almighty, Infinite Spirit – whichever way you wish to call him/her, but don’t believe in certain religious doctrines. I grew up in the Catholic religion, however, there were certain things that did not sit well with me. As a child, I was sensitive to spirit. Something my parents nor sibling could see, feel or hear. I was lucky to have parents who didn’t judge me for what I saw, felt, or heard. They were always there and never made me feel uncomfortable or tell me it was my imagination.
Searching for answers within religion
As I grew up, I could no longer deny something was wrong with me. I didn’t understand it and frankly; I was afraid of it. So as a teenager, I joined the local neighborhood Catholic church. I played guitar in the choir and took part as much as I could in its ministries. One time I spoke with the Reverend explaining to him what I’ve felt ever since I was 4-years-old (that’s as far back as I could go). The Reverend suggested I contact the Rosicrucians. I didn’t know who they were or where to locate them, so I never even looked them up. Then again, there was no internet so it might have taken more time than what a teenager was willing to put in.
In the search for answers, I visited the Evangelical church and after a few visits felt compelled to let the pastor know what I felt. But during a service, I ended up running out when the pastor and congregation kept chanting and telling me to repent or the devil was coming for me. I also visited the Baptist church for a while and spoke to the pastor. He said the devil possessed me. When I was 18-years-old, I had my first session with a psychologist. That didn’t go any better. She wrote me a referral to a psychiatrist because, according to her, I was borderline schizophrenic. And that’s when I stopped searching for answers.
I found excuses of why I was seeing, hearing, or feeling inexplicable things.
“I probably saw it on the news,” I would think to myself. Or “I heard someone say it,” and so on.
There was always an excuse until eventually I just blocked it. It was always there, and every so often I would have an “episode.” But I put all my faith in God and just let it go.
The premonition that shook my core
Then one day, as I was driving my children home from school, I saw something that woke me up. As we waited for the light to change, an image came to my mind. It was an image of a car accident and a woman crawling out of the wrecked vehicle’s window with blood all over her face. She crawled out crying, looked at me, and extended her right arm towards me. I recognized that face! It was my cousin’s face. I panicked and began trembling when the honking of horns and my children signaled to me that the light had changed. I didn’t know what it meant or why I had felt it, but I tried to leave it behind. Two weeks after that incident, I received a frantic call from my mother.
“Debbie, please go check on your cousin. I just got word she had a car accident,” Mom said.
“WHAT? WHERE? WHEN?” I screeched out.
“Today close to you on the main road,” she replied.
I left as fast as I could and stopped by my cousin’s house. I was so relieved when she opened the door. They were all fine, just a little banged up. But that left me feeling so uneasy.
The guilt was killing me
“Why?” I thought. “Why would I wish this upon my cousin? How could I have done this to her?”
I felt so guilty. As if I had caused the accident. I couldn’t shake it out of my head. At that time, I was working at a church, so the next day, I spoke with the Pastor. I told him about the accident and how guilty I felt. Opening up was hard for me. It had been so long since I told anyone, but I told him about my experiences since young. I needed to let it out. I needed God’s forgiveness for having such horrific thoughts about my loving cousin.
The Pastor listened and reassured me I had nothing to be afraid of and need not feel any guilt. He told me I wasn’t alone. There were many like-minded people who felt, saw, and heard just like I did. He then encouraged me to meet them, which I did. That day, I realized I was not alone and much less crazy. I befriended a few like-minded individuals but still had my reservations about my feelings. Every so often I’d have a premonition. I learned to not hold on to it, but pass it on to the right individual. It helped some, but I still did not understand why.
A cruel awakening
It took a tragic event in my life for me to come to terms with it. My oldest son died in a pedestrian accident. My grief was unbearable. As a mom, I didn’t want to let go. In my mind, I always held a conversation with him and he responded. I had my doubts, though. One night, my sorrow was so deep I just needed to know. I cried so hard and prayed so much. Asking for God’s help, I prayed. I prayed for God to help me decipher this feeling – the hearing my son speak to me. If this was indeed from God, then teach me how to work with it and I will embrace it. But if it wasn’t, please take it away.
A few weeks later, while researching on the internet, I found the local Spiritualist churches. I loved its principles as I felt the same way. Hence, I visited quite a few before I decided that the Church of Spiritual Awakening was my home. I did many workshops at this center – Introduction to Spiritualism, Laying on of Hands Healing, Beginners Mediumship, Advanced Mediumship, among others, and also attended the Tuesday night Meditation Circle for a while.
I learned many things at the Church of Spiritual Awakening. One being that the spirit never dies {John 11:25-26}. That makes me feel at ease with myself and my gift. I know I’m not the only one either. Like me, there are many children, teens, and adults that do not understand the gift they have. A Spiritualist Church is a place where they can safely talk about it and learn to use their gifts positively. There are no judgments here. We welcome everyone to partake in our services and activities. It’s an open and affirming environment with lots of loving people.
Photo by Skitterphoto from Pexels
Accepting my gift is a blessing
I have finally accepted the gift Infinite Spirit has given me and would love nothing more than for the Church of Spiritual Awakening Center to have its own location instead of renting out space. As of now, we hold the meditation circle and Sunday services through Zoom. Though I miss our personal interaction, on the bright side, the building fund has continued to increase since there is no rent or utilities to pay. So, to reach our goal, we are having fundraisers.
This fundraiser and many others that we will have during the year, will not only help us increase our building fund; but will also bring awareness to what we represent. It is a loving atmosphere with people from all over the world coming together with a like-minded attitude. We love everyone and all are welcome.
This fundraiser is for masks. Everybody is wearing a mask – some are plain, some are creative – so why not support a worthy cause? We have unique designs and colors to choose from. So, if you feel compelled to help us raise funds for our new building, follow the link to the Spiritual Awakening fundraiser, make sure to put “Debbie Centeno” as the person you’re sponsoring, and thank you in advance for your support.
Today I read the most heart-warming story ever. It teared me up. I use the Nextdoor app within my neighborhood. A woman, which I’ll call Ann, who lives in a surrounding neighborhood, was writing to express her thanks to a stranger. She did not know him, but his interaction with her caused a great impact.
A Mother’s Nightmare
This month Ann experienced the worst nightmare a mother can go through. Her 19-year-old son died on February 3, 2021. I don’t know the details of his death, but it is not relevant in this story. Ann was driving back from picking up her son’s urn and ashes and stopped at the neighborhood supermarket for some groceries.
An Angel Among the Strangers
As she waited her turn at the deli counter, a kind gentleman who I’ll call Elvis and was also waiting his turn complimented her tattoo. He had a tattoo as well—an Elvis tattoo. They began to chit-chat while waiting, even though her mind was elsewhere. She could not fully describe him because of his mask. From what they spoke, she thought he might have been an Elvis impersonator when he was younger.
“When I had hair,” she recalls him saying. Then he sang a part of the Elvis song “Love Me Tender” to her.
Love me tender, love me sweet. Never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so.
A Message from Heaven
The lyrics Elvis sang tucked at her heart and emotions. She felt as if her son was singing the song to her. As if he was telling his mom to always hold him close. Even though it made Ann emotional, it gave her a sense of peace and joy on that day and for the days to follow. Little does the stranger, Elvis, know what he did for Ann. He did not know how she was feeling, or that she was grieving the loss of her son, and how much comfort he brought to her. Therefore, Ann took her story to Nextdoor to thank him.
I Can Relate
I don’t know Ann or Elvis, but this story touched me because, I too, am a grieving mother. My son was 20 years old when he died. I know the feeling of receiving a message from a stranger or someone known to me and sensing it came from my son. For me it is a sign that Infinite Spirit (God) is always there for us and will always provide us comfort because the spirit never dies. Infinite Spirit sends his angels to comfort us either through someone we know, a sign, song, or a stranger.
To the Stranger
I pray for God’s blessing for this stranger so he can continue to spread his love and healing through his music. Sending healing love and light to Ann and Elvis.
It’s the last day of the year 2020 — the year of the global pandemic, COVID-19. It’s new year’s eve and everyone is looking forward to the beginning of 2021, new hopes, new dreams, and new ventures. The social media venues are full of posts condemning 2020. The year 2020 brought so much heartache, hatred, disappointment, and loss to so many. Loss of lives, jobs, homes, and dreams.
“I can’t wait for 2020 to go away,” I have seen posted so many times.
I wonder what makes people believe that just because 2020 is over, the virus will magically disappear and everything will be back to the way it was before. Why dwell on how bad the year was? There’s nothing we can do to change what happened or what was. Why not attempt to see all the good in it?
Things to be Grateful For
Good? What was good about 2020? For starters, we are alive. Rise in the morning and be grateful that you could open your eyes. Be grateful for the loved ones who woke up next to you in bed or in your household. For your pets, the roof over your head, your fluffy pillow, and sheets that kept you warm. Be grateful if the virus did not affect you. If you caught COVID-19 and healed, be grateful too.
I see the year 2020 as a test. A test for all of us to realize who we are, our gifts, and what we have. A time for us to awaken and grow. We all have been given cards to deal with, and we make our own decisions on how to deal with these cards. Think about what you may have accomplished during the year 2020. So you spent most of your time at home — no trips, no gatherings, no socializing, blah, blah, blah. Did you use this time to do things you never had time to do before? Declutter your home, read a few books, redecorate your living quarters, ground yourself with nature, or just lounge around in blissful peace.
If you’re a parent, did you spend more time with your children doing meaningful stuff like playing board games, puzzles, teach them to cook, etc? Or just simply get to know them? Oh, believe me, I once had a conversation with a 7-year-old who told me she only danced in front of her friends and not her mom because she didn’t know her mom that well. Shocking, I know, but they’re out there.
So Much to Do, So Little Time
Returning to the topic on hand, did you take the time to reflect on your life and figure out how you can deal with your cards differently for your benefit? What did you accomplish in 2020? There is so much you could have achieved throughout this year. Yet many just complain they could not go out or have fun the conventional way.
I too had certain goals and resolutions for 2020, which I could not fulfill. But I didn’t focus on that. I set my intention to accomplish as much as I could according to what was happening worldwide. Yes, I could not travel this year, which is big for me. But that just means I’ll take an extra trip when there’s no more COVID-19 threat. So, this year l focused on my other goals and completed 90% of them.
My Thoughts Create My Luck
If you’re thinking that it was just luck, you’re wrong. My accomplishment was not because of luck or wealth. It happened because I believe it’s a matter of mindset. I focused on all the good that would come from the situation at hand and did not give a second thought about all the bad that could happen. Also, I learned not to worry. The way I see it is, can I do something about it? If I can, then I do it. If not, then let it go — hence no need to worry because worrying will not solve any problems but just give us more. When we focus on what is going wrong in our lives, we’re just opening the door for more things to go wrong. However, if we turn it around and look for the positives, we will attract more positive things to come.
We Should All Be Grateful
Everyone has things to be grateful for this year, so let’s start with that. There’s no need to wait for the new year to turn our mindset around and be grateful. “Grateful” is the keyword because if you’re reading this, that is just one reason to be grateful. It means you have eyesight, learned how to read, and have a gadget where you can read from, just to name a few. With that said, how will you deal with your new deck of cards in 2021?
Begin to look within, which starts by being grateful that you are alive today and maybe you will be able to celebrate another birthday.” ~ Debbie Centeno
Photography courtesy of Juan Pablo Arenas
Our Expectations
A few years ago, on September 8, I attended two events. The first one during the day was a memorial service/celebration of life. The second one during the evening was a birthday celebration. I’m sure you probably think the memorial service was an older person, while the birthday was for a younger one. That’s okay because it is natural to feel this way.
But let me clarify. The memorial service/celebration of life was for a 12-year-old child. A sweet boy who didn’t have a chance at living a normal life because of a devastating condition he suffered. A child that we all expect to run around, play sports, enjoy the many activities and attractions for children. To grow into a young man, fulfill his childhood dreams, become a good citizen and have a family of his own.
The birthday party we attended was for a 70-year-old woman. She is a healthy person who raised three exceptional children. They surprised her with a birthday celebration, with Mariachis and all. A very well deserved celebration for a fine lady. Even though there have been some struggles, as we all have struggled in our lives, but it’s a blessing for her to reach the age of 70. I wish her many more years of health and happiness. So, what’s your point?—you might ask.
See the Irony?
As I mentioned above, some might imagine an elderly’s memorial service; it’s just natural. From a very young age, we learn that when we grow old, we will die. We don’t think about dying at a young age—especially being a child. We are not mentally prepared to even contemplate a child dying. So it always comes as a shock. However, when it’s an adult person, especially the elderly, it seems okay.
Never Take Life for Granted
We are here today and don’t know about tomorrow. We should be grateful for all we have. I have heard so many times how people complain about not having enough money; not having the latest fashion; not having the new technological gadget they so much want; how someone made them lose their temper, and so on. Every day I hear more complaints than gratefulness.
I’m not talking about my family environment; I’m talking about anywhere and everywhere. If you turn on the news, it’s 95% bad (and I think I’m modest here); the same goes for social media. While driving to work in the morning, I see it on the streets. People in a rush to get to their destiny, some blocking others from going into their lane. Others are driving too close to vehicles in a menacing way. Then there are the ones we interact with daily either while shopping, eating out, work and even socializing! Do they realize they have another day to live? Maybe they should take one-minute a day to be grateful for the gift of life. This action will emanate positive energy into the world, which will bring positive things into their lives.
My Point Is
We must focus on living the life given with gratefulness, thus enjoying what time we have on Earth. Everyone has struggled. There are good times and bad times. Learn to look for the good in the critical moments and life will be more enjoyable. Some might think, “Well, you haven’t gone through any struggles!” My response? Yes, I have. Just like any other human, I’ve struggled. My biggest heartbreak was the loss of my oldest son. But I did not let it define me. I learned how fragile life is, and I learned to be grateful. I learned to take a negative situation and turn it around by looking for the positive in it, thus making me a happier person.
Happiness Begins Within Ourselves
I urge you to reflect on this and make a better life for yourself. Happiness begins within ourselves. No one can make us happy. Look within, which starts by being grateful that you are alive today and maybe you will celebrate another birthday.
Many blessings to all, may you live a long, healthy, and abundant life.
I am a woman in my 50s who never did drugs or smoked a cigarette. I was one of those that thought marijuana was harmful and did not condone its use. The same goes for CBD oil, which I thought was just as bad. That was until I went through an experience that has changed my mind. And, if I can help someone else feel better while healing, then it’s worth it.
My Story
A little over two years ago, I underwent partial knee replacement surgery. The surgery was a success. For the pain, the doctor gave me a prescription for painkillers (opioids). I began taking the painkiller every 3–4 hours as instructed and they worked. But, when the doctor said he would not allow me to drive until I went off the prescribed medication, I knew I had to endure the pain somehow. That night, I decided I would not take the pill; but I could not sleep because of the pain. I was considering taking it when I realized this is how addiction begins! I wasn’t about to go towards that route so I got up and took a couple of acetaminophen. It didn’t work, but I continued it for a few days. I switched to ibuprofen and nope, that didn’t work either.
Seeing me in constant pain and little to no relief, my son brought me CBD Oil and explained the benefits to me. He was not convincing me. In fact, it bothered me he would think I was going to take such a thing.
“Are you crazy? I am NOT taking that!” I responded.
His insistence on how it will help me without the highs or lows, or whatever happens when consuming drugs, made me think about it. With no remedy in sight other than returning to the addictive painkiller, and needing to get back to work, I reluctantly tried it. Before trying it, I did my research on it.
I Began Researching
According to what I read, CBD Oil does NOT contain the ingredient tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) which is what causes the “high” effect. CBD Oil helps to reduce pain and inflammation. I read article after article, with most of them talking about the positive results and little to no side effects. After researching and reading, I tried it. Still, with skepticism, I took less than the dose recommended before I went to sleep.
Undeniable Difference
It was the first night, after stopping the painkiller, in which I did not wake up every three hours to take another dose of acetaminophen or ibuprofen. The next day I was fine until around 10 a.m. — about 12 hours after taking the CBD Oil. I took another dose of CBD Oil. The second night I increased the dose to the recommended. Thereafter, I only took one dose before going to sleep. I went from taking painkillers every three hours to taking one a day!
It was funny to hear the doctor ask me if I needed another prescription for painkillers at my follow-up appointment. When I responded that I did not, he asked, “Are you sure?” It surprised him to hear that I rarely took the painkiller, but I never told him why. I was no longer in pain after about a month of my surgery, therefore, I stopped taking the CBD Oil.
And There Was More
But it didn’t stop there. I was also experiencing ankle pain on the same leg. At first, I blamed it on the surgery. I just had surgery on that leg so it was normal for my ankle swelling. It made sense, right? Well, it turns out that it was not related. Unbeknownst to me of how it happened, I had two torn tendons. While taking the CBD Oil, I didn’t feel the pain but as soon as I stopped taking it the pain returned in my ankle area. When I did my follow-up visit to the doctor, he gave me another prescription for a painkiller, a CAM boot for 6-weeks followed by physical therapy. I didn’t fill the painkiller prescription. I was so happy with the results of my knee after taking the CBD Oil that I preferred to take the oil instead.
To Share or Not to Share
Other than my immediate family, I didn’t tell anyone what I was taking until one day I came across an old friend. While catching up, he mentioned his wife had a real hard time with fibromyalgia. He said that most days she could not get out of bed and was suffering from severe pain. I debated whether to tell him about my experience with the CBD oil, but gave it a shot. I explained to him how it had helped me. He asked for information on how to get it so he could pass it on to his wife.
About two months after that encounter I saw him again and the first thing he did was give me a hug and say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I asked, “For what?” He explained that his wife took the oil.
“My wife is feeling so much better. She is back at work and happier than ever,” he said.
I also shared the info with a co-worker whom I’ll call Mary. Mary was suffering from fibromyalgia. I’m happy to report that she got back to me with splendid news. She tried it and it’s working. Mary also saw positive results allowing her to sleep without pain.
Sharing Is the Right Thing to do
Even though it was the CBD Oil that helped them both, not me, I am so happy I shared this information with them. I vowed to share my experience with whoever I knew was suffering from an illness and needed a natural remedy. It is not something you can share with everybody. Not everyone has an open mind and may still consider it illegal.
Like I said in the beginning, I’m a woman in my 50s. I can assure you and anybody that knows me can affirm that I am not a drug addict. I cannot vouch for how others have felt using it or their side effects. However, I will continue promoting CBD Oil because I am living proof that it does work and no one should live in pain!
I had my first Full Moon Gong Bath last week. It was held at One Yoga Fitness by Jenny. What a wonderful experience it was. What’s a Full Moon Gong Bath you ask? Don’t worry, I didn’t know either, but just the name made me curious enough to explore what is involved. I once read somewhere that the full moon is a time of culmination and fruition, a time to let go and recharge. In other words, a time to release anything that holds us back and recalibrate. With all the chaos going on right now in the USA it seemed like a perfect time for me to engage in this relaxing ritual. There is never too much of connecting to our higher selves, therefore, I will partake in every opportunity available. So, there I was promptly at 7:00 p.m. ready for the new experience.
Tranquil Atmosphere Waiting
Just entering the space was relaxing. Dimmed lights cast a low glow in the room, flowers beautifully placed in the center with a couple of candles around the flowers, and a large gong at the very back of the room. We placed our mats in a circle facing the center of the room. The music was soft and calming. The temperature was adequate – not too cold but not too hot. There was a good number of like-minded people attending.
Stages of the Gong Bath
Jenny began with a breathing technique by alternating between the right and left nostrils as we inhaled and exhaled. This form of breathing is the Nadi Shodhana Pranayama. We continued this breathing technique for a few minutes with our eyes closed. Well, I had my eyes closed. I’m not sure that everyone did. I believe it was encouraged and it felt right too. The great thing about these practices is that if you fully emerge yourself into the experience, you tend to forget you’re not alone therefore you enjoy it to the fullest.
Afterward, we continued with a gentle yoga session to open the body. After a few minutes with yoga, we laid on our mats face up. It was up to us if we wanted to cover ourselves with a blanket or not. Then we heard the gong sound. Vibration filled the space. It took a few seconds to adjust and get into the feeling of an altered state of consciousness. But then it was relaxing, rejuvenating. I did not fall asleep, but I let my mind go. I didn’t entertain any thoughts. They just came and went.
The gong sound filled the air. The vibration intertwined with our energy expanding and joining as one. I felt engulfed in a beautiful universal light. Almost as if I was floating in the universe above the stars. It felt so good. I just wanted to stay there, but like everything, it had to come to an end.
All Good Things Come to an End
Frankly, I do not remember what time it ended. It felt so good that I did not bother to check. I am thankful that my friend, Gill, was with me. We had a 25-minute drive home. Had it not been that I was in the company of my dear friend, I might have fallen asleep at the steering wheel. But with Gill by my side, we engaged in small talk keeping me aware of the road.
I am Feeling Great
The experience was perfect. I’m sure it has contributed to this feeling of well-being I’ve experienced these past few days. I thank Jenny and One Yoga Studio for such an amazing opportunity. I will definitely sign up for any further Full Moon Gong Baths that they may offer. So, if you have not experienced a Gong Bath I highly recommend you do. You won’t regret it.
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“We are all different. You have to figure it out. What makes you tick and what makes you happy. Stop looking to others for answers and start looking within. It takes time but there’s no hurry. Enjoy the journey, because that’s what life is all about.” ~ Rebecca Fox
Photo from Pexels
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Where Did Time Go?
Time goes by fast. So fast that we don’t even realize it. Thirteen years have gone by since I began questioning my life. It all started when my son died. In these past 13 years, there have been many changes. I’ve grown a lot spiritually and mindfully. Forgetfulness is one of the things that has grown too. Like I don’t even remember what I had for dinner last night! Yes, I know, that could be part of aging. 😊 As I was saying, I’ve done a lot of spiritual growth.
I Questioned My Life
Within these 13 years, I began to analyze my life. What is life? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do? Am I fulfilling the purpose of my existence? Those questions began to cross my mind. I needed answers. It didn’t sit right with me that we are born, to study, work, get married, give life to another, raise them, and that’s it. The cycle begins again. It didn’t make sense to me. There had to be more to life than live to work. When my son’s life ended I felt I was wasting my life. He was given only 20 years and just when he began to discover life, it was cut short. So, what could I do to fulfill my purpose in life? To make my years count.
I Finally Awakened
It was through the grief process that I finally awakened. I feel that my son had a hand in this. It was through him that I discovered there is more in life than I thought. I’ve always been spiritually intuitive but never did anything to develop it. If anything, I tried hard to block it. The lack of understanding of what it was and meant kept me in fear. I made sure to stay connected to my religious beliefs, my Catholic upbringing, and Infinite Spirit (God). My son did not allow me to fear it anymore. I had a sixth sense and I could feel it. I could hear him. Many times I thought it was my wishful thinking, but I was proved wrong by other like-minded, spiritually intuitive beings. Even though they connected with my son and it helped me immensely in my grieving, I never gave in.
But one night my sorrow was so intense and deep that the tears would not stop flowing. What is happening to me? Am I going crazy?
“Please Lord,” I pleaded, “If it’s a gift from you, teach me how to work with it. I will embrace it and use it for the highest good. But if it is not from you, then take it away. Please take it away.”
That night I cried and prayed for hours until I finally fell into a deep sleep.
It Was Meant to Be
In my search for answers, I began researching on the web anything related to spirituality. I came across a few spiritualist churches with like-minded people. It was important to me that these churches worshipped God (Infinite Spirit) and only God. These churches seemed to fit what I was looking for. So, every week I visited a different one in hopes to find where I fit in. There was a particular one, Church of Spiritual Awakening, which made me feel more at home than the others. Still, I continued to explore all my options even though I already knew where my heart stood. But I wanted to be sure of my decision. However, I knew it was meant to be. I needed to further develop my God-given gift in order to help others grieving the loss of their loved ones.
Lessons I Learned
I learned to meditate at the meditation circle which the Church of Spiritual Awakening holds weekly. I enjoyed it very much and began to meditate at home as well. Meditation changed my life. It is different from praying. The way I see it, when I pray I talk to God. When I meditate, I listen to God. In being still and listening I learned so much about myself. I learned to be patient, loving and found inner peace. Things that bothered me before no longer did. I raised my awareness and consciousness. And also felt more connected to nature.
I began to see the world differently. There was beauty where I didn’t see it before. I began to change my mindset and way of thinking. I learned to view everything, even the hurtful situations, positively. It does not make sense for me to worry about something I had no control of. All of this improved my life. I found peace.
I Found My Home
Eventually, I joined the church and participated in the classes they offered – Introduction to Spiritualism, Laying on of Hands Healing, Introduction to Mediumship, Advanced Mediumship – and a few others. I continue my meditation as often as possible and have even taken up yoga. Contrary to what many might think, it has been a blessing. It has improved my life 100%.
We Are Spiritual Beings
So, what does all this have to do with my son’s death? It was because of his death my life was turned upside down. After his death, I realized there had to be more in life than just work to live. While he was on the Earth plane, we were close. Even after his death, I can still connect with him in the spirit world. You see, we are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience. We are energy. Everything is energy. Once we acknowledge and accept this, we are then awakened and can take charge of our lives the way we need to. The way we want to.
Grateful to Infinite Spirit
I love my son and miss him immensely. It pains me to know that he had to leave the Earth plane for me to realize that we are eternal because the spirit never dies. I can honestly say, that despite my son’s passing, to this day, I have never been happier in my life. Happiness resides within ourselves. Nothing and nobody can make us happy. All this, I owe it to Infinite Spirit who opened my eyes to the true nature of my existence – my awakening. I am forever grateful for the wonderful son Infinite Spirit gave me and for the opportunity and knowledge to continue to communicate with him. Thank you, Infinite Spirit, for never leaving my side.
Diary Of A Grieving Mother’s Heart is a compilation of my grieving journals, rants, sadness, and joy. I’ve been through many different scenarios – both good and bad – which have helped me reach the place of peace that I now have. I invite you to explore my journey and I pray that, as it helped me, it will help you. You can find it on Amazon in paperback and in Kindle version too.
Father’s Day, a day dedicated to the many dads that step up to the plate and are there for their children. While looking through Facebook I see posts of happiness from many celebrating Father’s Day. Some are posts of sadness from mourning the loss of their dads. And, there are those who hold resentment from dads who chose not to be in their children’s lives.
Yes, there are some deadbeat dads out there. Dads that never once cared to seek for their child or call them. Other’s that broke promises to their children and never showed up to their events or picking them up. And, of course, the ones that raised their stepchildren as their own all the while ignoring their own biological children. But not all dads fall into this category.
I’ve known of dad’s that have taken the role of moms forgoing the dating scenario. Dads that never remarried because their main priority was their children. Other dads that, when their wives decided to bail on them or passed away, stepped up to the plate and raised their children alone as a mother and father.
I am blessed to have a wonderful father in my life. My dad was a good father and provider. Ever since I can remember my dad worked two jobs to provide for our family. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave him enough time to attend graduations, plays or any of our extra-curricular activities. But it did not take away from him being a good dad. He is still on the earth plane with us and I thank the Lord every day for giving me a great dad. Even though we’re miles apart I still have a great relationship with him.
So to all the Dads out there, Happy Father’s Day. May your life be filled with blessings.
Diary of a Grieving Mother’s Heart
The death of my son was the worst thing to happen to me. For the six months that followed, I felt numb, depressed and lonely. I didn’t want to continue living. Even though I had my daughter and younger son, it did not make me feel any better. I did not know what to do to make them feel better. How could I continue on without him? What would I do to become whole again? I had two choices. I could either succumb to depression or live for him. I decided to live for him. I decided that I wanted to do what he could not and so my journey began. I learned a lot from my son after his death. Even in death, he was teaching me what I did not know. I wanted to live for my son – as he would have. I wanted my daughter and younger son to heal. I embarked on this journey for myself, my family and in memory of Richie. With this book, I hope to help grieving Moms reach that place of peace that I have reached.
Diary of A Grieving Mother’s Heart
