On August 18, 2018 at about 2 am in the morning EDT, my dad, Vincent James Tangredi Jr, shed his skin and reemerged with his Higher Self, his inner being, all of his siblings, and many other loved ones. I was lying in bed in the next room at that time.
Every summer, I make the trip home to visit my parents. These years, I plow through a fix-it list and do what I can for them. I tend to do the things that used to be on his honey-do list. I enjoy that kind of stuff. Right now, I can look around this house and see the results of things fixed or upgraded or swapped out years before.
My to-do list for this year, however, encompassed things I have never done before. Both of my parents were admitted to in-home Hospice in the same week. Dad’s hospital bed showed up one evening and Mom’s showed up the next morning. That same day, we hired a live-in caregiver, so I had to clean and clear three rooms simultaneously.
Sitting here at 6:30 am, sipping coffee and writing, feels like a luxury. This is what I normally do, but something I have not done in weeks.
Every single day I have been here was filled with a week’s worth of work. Each night, I would crawl into bed, look back on the day, and wonder how I got so much done. But I know the answer to that question.
This trip, this first-in-a-lifetime experience, has been the ultimate putting-words-into-action. For years, I have been writing this blog, sharing the inspirational guidance I receive from my inner being and bits of guidance and teachings that resonate for me from others like Esther Hicks.
Repeatedly this trip, I reminded myself to flow with time. Rather than focus on the mountain of tasks that piled on each day, I instead focused on the flow and the movement, reminding myself that for months I have been asking for that very thing. The best years of my previous career were like that. I never had to look for things to do, they flowed in and up to me.
Next, I focused on noticing the satisfaction I experienced all along the way. Clearing a cabinet, sorting paperwork, paying bills, organizing files, cleaning, filling a dumpster with junk, learning my mother’s extensive list of medications, and tracking everything I was giving my father…with each task completed, I felt satisfaction.
A number of times along the way, I would have a moment of strong overwhelment. I would shout in my mind, “I can’t handle this!” Then, after the brief hissy fit, I would shift my focus back into the flow and just do what needed to be done right then and there.
Another experience I had over and over and over again was to feel profound appreciation for the people around me: family member’s I’ve known all my life and total strangers. Sometimes I remembered to look someone in the eye and express how much I appreciated them there and then, but I am sure I didn’t do this nearly as much as I could have.
I also recognized repeated instant manifestation. I needed a particular item, and moments later would find one. And the busiest day, when I felt most overwhelmed, I stated with clarity the desire for help or even just someone to be there with me. Moments later, Dad’s Hospice nurse called to tell me she was on her way. Then my cousin Nancy called to tell me she was coming and bringing food. Then My cousin Mike came to help me move furniture and do anything else I needed. My wish was granted. I wasn’t alone for the rest of that day. In fact, I don’t think I’ve been alone much since then.
At 2:15 am yesterday morning, when I checked in on Dad and found that he no longer occupied the body he had carried around for 81 years, I felt a strong wave of relief. I no longer needed to worry about his comfort. I am totally okay with him moving onward and upward, but it was hard to watch him struggle through the transition.
This weekend, both my brother and sister are here, and family and friends have been filling the house: visiting mom and offering love in all of their wonderful ways. When I turned in for the night last night, I felt an echo of my childhood when this house was filled more with people and less with stuff.
There are no destinations. I haven’t arrived at a place I will be for very long. Time continues to flow.
We are all still in a one-day-at-a-time mindset with Ma. We still have many, many things that are calling for attention. And each day continues to bring satisfaction, appreciation, love, laugher, companionship, family time, and celebration…life, in other words.
Abraham says we can connect with our loved ones at any time, we simply need to rise up to their vibration. Last night, my brother shared an experience he had moments earlier. He said something funny to my sister, which got both of them laughing whole-heartedly. In that moment, he felt Dad right there with them.
I do think I’ve felt Dad with me too here and there, guiding me with a task or when I’m hanging with and appreciating his wonderful cat Tiger.
In Journey to the Temple of Ra, John’s Guru says to him, “My boy, the Perfection of the Universe is difficult to see. To the uninitiated, it can materialize as an arduous task or a poignant challenge. You see only what was taken, not what was given in its place.” Luckily, I am further along in my own Journey. I do see what was given. I can forever look back on this whole experience with appreciation. And I am sure I will see more and more of what I received from it.
This is a newspaper clipping from an article written about my parents 43 years ago. Looking at the picture now, I kind of think not much has changed.
Whether Mom decides to follow on Dad’s heels or stick around for a while longer, it’ll all work out.