This photograph below, "Avocado Man," has been knocking at my door relentlessly this past week, too often to dismiss it as chance.
It would fall out of a book, or be under a file, or appear on the kitchen counter, or be lying on the floor. At times, I can be a bit dense when the proverbial brick knocks me up-side the head with a loving message. However, I finally “got it”, hearing it whisper, “It’s time to share this. It’s time to tell the story of how this picture came to be.”
One day about twelve years ago, I was changing the sheets on our bed when I found empty vodka bottles between the mattress and box spring. A little later, I was cleaning out the car and found more empty vodka bottles, this time underneath the car seat.
Later that day, two of our employees, my husband and I owned our own business at the time, told me my husband showed up on the job that morning reeking of alcohol and behaving like an ars. I had payroll to process and jobs to line up for our crew for the next ten days because he and I had plans to visit his Mom in Massachusetts soon. My husband had been boasting of late about his “sobriety”; however, I knew better. I always knew better.
This particular day, after nine years of deceit on his part, and white-knuckling it on my part, his drinking was becoming increasingly worse. Due in part to that scenario, my workload and responsibilities for our business were also increasing. Because of that, and for a boatload of other reasons, I had decisively had enough of trying to save what little we had left of our marriage. I took off my wedding rings and dropped them in a bottle of Vodka, set the bottle on top of a note stating I was not going on the upcoming trip, and I was done with the marriage. I grabbed a few clothes, took the pups and left.
That evening, I was emotionally numb and not paying much attention to what I was doing while fixing myself dinner. When I returned to my plate that was sitting on the countertop, the above picture is the face I saw staring back at me - this adorable, hilarious, one-toothed goofy avocado face.
I burst out laughing.
Then I collapsed into a heap on the floor. I was pissed off, but also grief-stricken. I had finally accepted the cold, hard truth that my husband preferred his bottle of Vodka over me as well as everything else in his life. He would always prefer the bottle over me and everything else and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I was scared and I didn’t know how this was going to play out. I only knew I was done with the bullschit. Yet, here was this face staring back at me on that dinner plate telling me with that loving wink from the Universe/God that “Everything is going to be okay. Honest.”
What Is True For Me
This cute avocado face was one of my first conscious messages that I did not miss or misinterpret. I will admit, however, that I did lose my way emotionally during the divorce process, and it continued in the first few frenzied years of caring for Mom. It seemed I wasn’t able to “see” much of anything in those times.
It has been only in the last 3-4 years that I’ve learned, and have really tried, to remember to be conscientious about getting out of my own head and staying in the present.
Mr. Avocado Face is a reminder of a time when I felt hopeless and scared out of my mind. The Universe/God knows I relate best to humor, so, I think, this was His way of getting through to me that I am loved, cared for, and looked after.
There are times when I’ve stumbled upon a rock in the shape of a heart, or seen a flower growing alone in the most challenging of places. Sometimes I’ll see a bumper sticker on the back of a vehicle that is a distinctive “Hello” from someone who has passed away: my father, a friend’s son, or my grandmother(s).
This photograph was taken after a day I continually saw Hawks, Magpies, Flickers, Doves, Woodpeckers and one Bald Eagle. I walked out onto my back porch and saw this:
I know, right?!!
In the darkest hours before I left my alcoholic marriage, and now at times in caring for my Mother with Alzheimer’s, our benevolent Universe shows me something at the rarest of times. I will hear, or see, something that snaps me out of my own head, something that reminds me to let go, and to trust. All really will be well. The message I interpreted from “The Bird Day” was simply encouragement. Nothing more.
My offering today is to remind you to be open-hearted and aware of the gifts presented around you. As Rumi says, “Stay awake. Don’t go back to sleep.” Be thankful, even when we can’t see through the blur of our tears, or anger, or don’t understand one thing that is happening or why.
Trust in the fact that you are loved and cared for – never lose hope, my dear heart, miracles dwell in the invisible.