law of attraction

I like to think of my life in chapters. The first chapter would obviously be my childhood where I grew up in a large Irish-Catholic family with all the challenges and joys inherent therein. While the teen years are still part of childhood, for me, looking back, it was a new chapter filled with insecurities, bad choices, a bit of fun, and some life-changing events. My third chapter, filled with college independence, learning to fly, and being on my own, while scary and challenging, would have to be high on my list of happy times.

Chapter four brought a new life with a young husband, lots of moves around the country, having children and raising them mostly alone. It entailed learning a new career, a new hobby, and finally struggling to find a way to survive a dysfunctional relationship while bringing up healthy adults. 30 years is a long time in the institution when it’s a good marriage. When it’s not, it’s a jail sentence. In chapter five, after a contentious divorce, I moved from Michigan to Florida. With my grown kids starting their own lives, I left behind a shuttered business, a foreclosed home, and a broken family in an attempt to pick up the pieces of what was left of my life and start fresh in the sunshine state.

Moving on isn’t easy. Change can be scary. A second failed relationship had me questioning my choices. I eventually found work in the healthcare field of home health, then found my niche in hospice. In chapter six I finally purchased my own place. Being totally independent gave me the faith in myself that I needed to really start fresh. I put my past behind me and learned to depend on ME, slowly regaining a confidence I thought was lost forever. With a move so far from home and being alone, I consoled myself with the somewhat hopeful thought that people like to visit warm places in the winter, and maybe, with time, that would happen. It eventually did, and I found I could relax and enjoy sharing this little slice of heaven with others without feeling like I had to explain any longer why I was there.

In chapter seven. I believed I’d met my last love. I (mostly) retired, moved into a 55+ community, and brought my wonderful 93-year-old mom into our home to live out her days with us. I had kids and grandkids just a few miles away. The future seemed so promising. But after the wretched COVID year of 2020, life with him changed forcing me into yet another failed relationship. My mom had to go back to Michigan where she died a month later. My kids moved back north. I went into a tailspin.

Chapter eight was one of healing, moving, trying to find my place after a very long and broken road. I ultimately landed in a lovely condo in the trees of Palm Coast, just a mile from the peace of the ocean. I was completely independent, slowly learning how to trust myself by giving it all to God, the Universe, whatever you want to call it. I started manifesting my future as I’d wished it would be. And as I grew closer to some of my siblings, I learned to be happy and content with my life.

The next chapter is still hard for me to grasp. Chapter 9 has come with the fulfillment of all my dreams! In my gratitude to God, I was brought the most wonderful man who has shown me what real, grown-up, unselfish love is. I’ve moved to his home in The Villages. Daily I am grateful and thankful, and we both shake our heads at how lucky we are to have found each other.

I anticipate wonderful chapters ahead! I’m actually one of those people who will often read the end of a book first so I’m prepared for what’s coming. I can’t do that in this situation. I will simply have to expect the unexpected, make plans but not plan on them, and meet each new day with Irish optimism and the belief that in following God’s plan for me, I cannot go wrong. Would I go back and rewrite some chapters if I could? I don’t think so. They are what brought me to this place, and I, for one, wouldn’t change a thing.

In the summer of 2023, after enduring the most tumultuous period of my life, I surrendered my future to God. I expressed to Him that while I would try to listen and pay attention, there was a chance I might miss a subtle sign—a feather or a bird sent my way. I suggested that perhaps a more direct approach, like a club over the head, would be necessary for me to truly understand His message. I committed to following His path for me instead of my own.

Bobby and I had been visiting each other back and forth for a few months. While sitting with him in church one evening waiting for Mass to begin, I was again repeating my prayer request, asking for some sign that would tell me if this was the right man for me, the right place for me. Bobby leaned over and whispered to me that the priest performing Mass was from Michigan; his name was ‘John.’ I nodded and smiled.

Mass began. As we were singing the entrance hymn, the processional came up the aisle. I glanced over and, with a double-take, I realized, “I KNOW this priest!”

My heart started beating so fast I thought I might faint. I grabbed Bobby’s hand and whispered, “I know this man! He was my pastor back home in Michigan! He baptized my son and buried my dad!” I KNOW him!” I felt like I was in shock. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and when he started to speak, my head shook in disbelief. I almost wept. I’d been truly clubbed.