I was watching Grey's Anatomy last night, which by the way--I still don't know what in the world is going on and only have one particular friend to blame for even having it on the television in the first place--will leave me traumatized for some time to come. The last scene was one of the most disturbing things I've seen on television since...well, since I caught part of an episode of another show I don't watch called Nip/Tuck, where a woman blew Build-a-Bear stuffing into some guy's mouth and...let's just leave it at that. Both of these scenes make me want to poke out my mind's eye. I couldn't even look at the television last night during the last moments. Just hearing it forced me to look away and cover my eyes.
I did, however, catch a teaser for Good Morning America about the US Airways plane which crash landed into the Hudson. The plane took off from LGA and was in route to Charlotte. I'm sorry...WUT? That is my child's name. Charlotte Hudson. So utterly eerie, it has also been burned into my brain.
I was reminded of something else that was a little freaky deaky. About a week after my dad passed away, I met a friend at a bookstore, which also has a wonderful little restaurant in it, across the river. I was telling her about how I'd hung-out at the hospital all day long on that Thursday and that evening I had decided to go home, shower, feed my cats and I would come back to stay with my mom and dad. Almost as soon as I had decided to leave, my dad started making noises like "Mm-mm" as if he was telling someone "No." This went on for many minutes. A nurse came in and said to him, even though he was in a coma-like state, "I'm going to roll you over on your side." He said, "MM-MM." She backed away and said, "Okay. I heard that" and left the room. After about twenty minutes, I said I would be back and kissed his hand. I didn't even make it to the parking lot before he had passed away. It was if he had been telling someone, "I'm not coming with you until my daughter leaves." I was telling my friend this as we were waiting to be seated in the restaurant. We were standing next to a book shelf of greeting cards. Just as I finished that sentence, a pack of cards on a wooden book shelf approximately 12 feet high fell from the top shelf and landed face up on my foot. There was no way anyone could have bumped the shelf and caused the cards to fall. They were all set back about four inches from the edge. We looked down and saw that the cards simply read: Hello. That was it. My friend and I stood there and cried. And laughed. It was a good sign. I bought that pack of cards and still have them.
So I like to think that this recent event is also a sign. A sign that she will be okay. That everything happens for a reason. Now that certain things are underway regarding her future--that if her biological father were not out-of-town right now he would have seen the whole scene from his office window--she will be strong and fearless. I like to think this about myself as well. And just as the Hudson saved countless lives in NYC yesterday, I know that my Hudson saves my life everyday. And I believe my dad is watching.