Checking In

Karl Checking In – Photo: L. Weikel

Every once in a while I’ll see something or hear a song on the radio (or one that randomly plays on my iPhone) that makes me feel like Karl is checking in on us. Shortly after he died, his energy was very present. I didn’t have to be psychic to notice his efforts to communicate and get our attention.

After some weeks and months, he seemed to settle into using my iPod (and then my iPhone, which had the same music library as the iPod) as his favorite, most effective means of communication. Indeed, I swear there were hundreds of songs on my device that I only heard for the first time when they began playing as I drove my car with the song set on ‘random.’ The uncannily perfect lyrics to so many songs that played – and my astonishment each time as I realized what the lyrics were actually saying and how they could easily have been coming out of his mouth at that moment – were simultaneously heart breaking and soul mending.

As the months have turned to years, Karl’s presence has diminished. I hoped it wouldn’t, obviously. While I could no longer put my arms around him or look in his eyes as we talked or see the flash of his smile, I could still hear his voice. Through the songs he chose and even the order in which he literally would have a play list lined up for me sometimes, he conveyed sarcasm, wit, occasional regret, sadness, and almost always somewhere in there an auric iteration of love.

Occasionally, he would choose songs that utterly freaked me out in their uncanny relevance to something I might be thinking about or experiencing that no one else in the world knew about.

Rainbows

There are certain animals that cross my path (and the paths of our nuclear family) that have particular significance or connection to Karl. Rainbows, too, seemed to show up as exclamation points or reinforcements to other communications, often appearing literally on objects that were connected to him. He managed to arrange for some pretty elaborate displays of light a couple of times, almost always when there was an especially important (to him) message to convey.

Even the rainbows have dwindled in occurrence over the past year or so.

I try not to wish for more frequent communications any longer. Given my experiences in other realms, I am acutely aware that life goes on. Not just for us here on Earth, but for those who shed their bodies here and move on to the next opportunity for their soul’s evolution.

I do sense, however, that he checks in on us every once in a while.

Which leads me to the photo accompanying this post. I took it the morning of the inauguration. I have not seen a rainbow in this location in our living room prior to seeing the one in this photo.

Karl and I saw it at almost exactly the same moment. We pointed, laughed, and said, “Karl’s here.”

We sensed it was a sign that hope was on the horizon. But no matter how things work out, now or in the future, the knowledge within our hearts that life survives death changes everything.

(T-309)