Signs from above: If you write it, a publisher will come

Print Friendly, PDF & Email


Signs.

Yes signs. I got so many in my life but took many years to understand them for myself. It’s how I interpret them for myself. It’s my way of thinking, and helps me to feel lost loved ones around me. It may be a gut feeling, a visual, a dream, a smell, or even a coincidence as some suspect. For myself it helps to know those who passed before me are still here and send me signs. How do I know it’s from them? Because it’s the first person who popped into my head after something uncanny happens to me. I will always know who is near from afar, in a place called heaven.

I wrote a book about signs and have pictures of proof that somehow are connected with heaven. It’s my own personal journey of how I see things in hoping I can help others to find their own signs for themselves. I hope to help them heal with their grief and pain of losing a loved one by sharing how I interpret signs that I receive. My book is about my own spiritual journey, a memoir and a love story with my late husband, Bob, who passed almost five years ago due to Glioblastoma, a terminal brain cancer. My story will take you on a journey to way before I ever met my husband; things that have happened in my own personal life and way too many to call them coincidences.

I got a nudge from something much higher in my dreams and I promised to do a job that was asked of me. That higher power was from Mother Mary, who I write about in my book. Her last message to me was to help the children without parents and that’s where the proceeds from my book will go after taxes.

I just finished my book after three years and three months, without knowing what I was doing. I can say that I am trying really hard and want to do it MY WAY! I am in search of someone who can help me out. I want a hard copy book. I would like to have them read on kindle or buy through Amazon, etc.  I need to have pictures in my book for proof there is a heaven. I had a friend design my book cover that was from my direction. I like to be different and not copy anyone. If Mother Mary asked a job of me how can it not be a one time hit?

I have my own money that I won from an AARP contest to help make this book come alive. I won Grand Prize for writing a 200-word essay contest that was another sign that I write about in my book. That says a lot about me and my writing, I won the Grand Prize! Carol Robidoux has asked me to do some stories on her site right here: Manchester Ink Link. I had no idea what I would write about but somehow I managed to come up with stories from my heart with my own personal life, which I hope have touched some of you. I thank Carol for this as it helped me to grow and show that I can do what my mind has set out to do with just a 9th grade education. Again, it’s all from the heart.

Everything is ready to go. I need help. I wrote to Oprah and Ellen and sent material certified to get my story out there. I didn’t need their money, just their help. I have had no replies as of yet and no return receipt from almost a month ago. I’ve looked at countless avenues … some just do paperback, some don’t want photos, nothing is fitting yet, but it will. I just know it!

If anyone knows who can help me get my Spiritual Memoir out there as a hard copy for people to hold in their hands, please reach out to me at the bottom of this story..

Remember that the proceeds will help Children without Parents.. of my choice! Thanks for listening.

I wanted to share with you a chapter from my book about my own mother, Doris (Coffee) Adams. It’s called The White Dove and I hope you like it!



When my mother passed, it took a few months before she made her presence known to me, but she did so in a very big way. It was during the fall of 1998 and I was having a lot of pain from uterine fibroids. Tests showed that they resembled a cluster of grapes and that I needed surgery.

I remember telling my mother when she was in the hospital that I needed a hysterectomy. She knew that I had a lot of pain with my menstrual cycle and was happy to hear that surgery would rectify the problem.

What I didn’t know at the time was that she wouldn’t be coming out of the hospital to go home ever again. She had been in the Intensive Care Unit for many, many weeks due to pneumonia but spiraled downward after learning that she had cancer. She died peacefully with family at her side. She had touched so many lives and her wake and funeral showed us all just how much she was loved and respected. She had friends from all walks of life.

What I remember most about my mother is the way she loved feeding everyone, including the birds, who she always shared our bread with. I chuckle now to myself because I follow in her footsteps, feeding everyone, including the birds.

She used to get mad at me if I took what I considered to be the best part of the bread, which we called the crust, to make a sandwich. Once, when I was visiting, I grabbed the crust again.

“Leave the crust for my birds!” she yelled.

“Mom, give them my good piece. I’ll trade with them!” I told her.

She never understood that logic or why anyone would want the crust!

During another visit, she told me that she had seen a white dove in the yard with all of the other birds she usually fed, which were mostly pigeons. I didn’t know that we had doves in the area and I think it was the only time she ever saw one. At least she never spoke of it again.

It had been about three months since my mom passed. It was time to get my suitcase packed as I was told that I would have a three-day hospital stay after my procedure. I was scared about the surgery but knew that I would be okay.

Afterwards, I was wheeled into the room where I would stay for the duration of my recovery. I was very tired and all I wanted to do was sleep. I was really out of it and I don’t remember feeling any pain. A nurse came in to check on me asked how I was doing as she took the needle out of my wrist and bandaged me up. I told her that I was alright by nodding my head because I was so exhausted and just wanted her to leave me alone.

I am not sure what happened next but this is what I remember; I opened my eyes to a lot of commotion. Two nurses were holding me up, one standing on each side of me. There was another nurse changing out the bloodied sheets from the bed where I had just slept. I remember that I was apologizing over and over for making such a mess. They assured me that everything was okay and that it wasn’t my fault. I remember how tired I felt and wondering what had just happened.

Once the sheets were changed, I was back in bed and off again to sleep. Hours later a nurse came in to get me up walking so that I would be able leave in a few days.

She told me that she was the one who had asked if I was okay and then left my room earlier. She also said that something had kept nudging her to come back and check up on me again! She said it was so strong that she knew she had to double-check to make sure that I was okay.

When she came back into the room, she noticed blood on my pillow. My vein was gushing from where she had just removed the needle, even though it was bandaged. Because I had slept with my hands tucked under the pillow, with my head adding more pressure, it caused me to bleed even more so. She was happy that she had come back to check on me. She couldn’t believe how strong the presence was that had pushed her to return to my room. I thanked her for listening to her inner voice because who knows what the result would have been had she not done so.

She got me up to go to the bathroom and then took me for a walk down the hallway holding on to me.

“You need to get more exercise so you can get out of here.” She told me.

I was really not in any mood for walking, but if I wanted to heal fast, I knew I had to move.

At the end of the hallway there was a huge window. She looked out and said that there were a lot of birds on the rooftop below, mostly pigeons except for one white dove that was in the middle of them all.

That definitely got my attention because it reminded me of the story my mother had told me. I wanted to take a look for myself and even though I didn’t have my glasses with me I could still see that speck of white in the middle of all the birds and I almost cried. I knew at that moment that my mother had been that nudge, the one the nurse had felt causing her to come back and check up on me.

We started walking back toward my room, and I told her the story of my mother feeding the birds and how she had seen the white dove. The nurse was all ears. It helped me to know that my mother was definitely by my side and looking out for me on that day.

This was the biggest sign I’ve received from my mother, still to this day but she has reminded me of her presence in this same way another time since then. In the twenty-five years I’ve lived at this little cape in Manchester, I’ve seen a white dove just once from my kitchen window, sitting on the rooftop of the addition to our bathroom. The bird turned and looked my way for a split second before taking off quickly, making me wonder if I was seeing things because it happened so fast.

I knew in my heart that it was a sign from my mom who was still checking up on her kids. What else could I think?


My mother is at peace now and isn’t that what a dove bird represents?

Peace?

I looked up the spiritual meaning of a dove in Wikipedia. The reply was amazing to me so I am adding it to the story.

Doves are commonly considered a symbol of motherhood because of their unique ability to produce their own milk. Historically, dove symbolism is associated with several mother figures: The Mother Mary in Christian legend (care, devotion, purity and peace).

I find it awesome that there is a Mother Mary connection here as well as a connection to motherhood. How can one not appreciate that sign?

One more thing I’d like to add to this story, something that happened two days after editing it. I received a coin and card in the mail, in the same envelope. It validated that my mother is still watching over me and happy that I’ve kept her stories alive. It also proves that my spiritual guides are sending me signs to let me know that I am on the right path!

As you look at these two photos, what else could you think? Pope Francis is holding a white dove in his hand.

The second is a prayer card with the image of a coin. It depicts an angel with outstretched wings. The prayer is called Angel of God. What I love most is the saying at the bottom of this little card.

It reads: Keep this guardian angel as a reminder of the children you help.

I know that I am on the right path indeed!

The Universe is quite mysterious, but I already knew that!


Gail Durant is the fourth-oldest from a family of 13 children. She has lived in Manchester her whole life with the exception of one year in Hillsboro. She worked for 41 years in shoe shops, laundry and manufacturing and fully retired five years ago. She lost her husband Bob almost three years ago to brain cancer, and is currently writing a book about their love story, Bob’s diagnosis, and the signs she receives from him, to this day. Proceeds from the book will go to charities to help children in some way and also for brain cancer research.  She resides in Manchester and has a daughter she adopted a few years ago, who came into her life at age 7 and is now 40. She has enjoyed photography most of her life, and loves taking random shots, and spinning the thoughts she has into stories, with pictures. She can be reached at gailmoose527@gmail.com.