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Tonight’s story, a true tale, was triggered by an item that I found in a storage trunk upstairs last night, as I searched for something else. The tiny red coat and cap, designed to fit a small child, was worn briefly by a member in my family that I know very little about. In fact, the coat survived decades longer than this wee girl.

Her name was Margaret.

Margaret Ann Lauderdale was born in 1941, the youngest of six children. Her parents, Dennis and Grace Lauderdale, were my grandparents. They welcomed this child into a family that already contained two sons and three daughters. My daddy, Curtis, was the child closest in age to Margaret. He was approximately two and a half years older than his baby sister.

Tragically, Margaret died in 1943, after eating grapes that had been sprayed for pests. My dad, who was with Margaret at the time, ate the grapes too, and although he became very ill, his body was bigger and stronger. He survived, something my dad felt guilty about for the rest of his life.

Dennis and Grace Lauderdale

The five Lauderdale children. My father became the youngest, after Margaret’s death.

And that’s all I know about Margaret Ann. Her siblings could not talk about her, without great sorrow. My grandmother could not speak of her at all, even after many years had passed. I’ve never seen a photo of Margaret as a baby, or a toddler.

However…

As I held the small red coat in my hands last night, feeling sad, I recalled that I had seen Margaret. At least, I believe that’s who I saw.

This is Margaret’s ghost story.

One Saturday, about eight or nine years ago, my family was gathered at my sister Debbie’s house, in Oklahoma. There was much laughter as we dined together, and swims in the backyard pool, and people constantly moving indoors and outdoors.

I wanted to use my sister’s computer and was waiting for an opportunity to grab her and ask her permission. As I stood in the living room, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and saw my sister cross the foyer at the front of the house and enter the dining room. I thought the woman was my sister. She resembled Debbie and had long dark hair.

I hurried to catch up with her and followed her into the dining room, which was where the computer was conveniently located, my question already escaping my lips. I was startled to enter the dimly lit room and discover it was empty. No one was in the silent dining room. Nevertheless, I looked around, searching the shadows. “Debbie?” I said, even though I could see she wasn’t present. I stepped back through the dining room door and glanced around the crowded living room. Debbie was sitting in a corner chair, in the living room, chatting away. She said she had been there for a while.

While I puzzled out who I had just followed into an empty room, Margaret…my long deceased aunt who did not survive her toddler years…came strongly to mind, the name like an echo of a whisper I could almost hear. I don’t have proof that’s who the spirit was. But since that day, other family members have seen her, in different houses, during different times. Margaret prefers to be near my sister, and others have noted the resemblance between the two.

In my family, ghosts are not a rarity. In fact, we have encountered more than one ghost named Margaret. I accept that the soul lives on, after the body dies, and sometimes, oftentimes, our departed loved ones are near us, sending us love, cheering us on, offering unseen but real support. I’ve experienced their presences too many times, to believe otherwise, and I am comforted knowing my grandparents or my dad or an aunt I’ve never met on this side of the veil visits me.

I brought Margaret’s little red coat and hat downstairs and gently hung them up. They are going to my sister Debbie on my next visit. It seems right for the coat to be with her…to be with them.

Beautiful Margaret, may your soul continue to explore and find the peace and joy that you barely had opportunity to experience in life. We, your family, love you.

I’ve been saving quotes and memes all week, as I waited to see which words inspired me the most, for today’s Sunday Short post. Interestingly, it was a meme that I saw this morning that resonated with me and provided fodder for thought.

Here’s the meme:

The first thing that I love about this, is that the word “rules” is crossed out and replaced with the word “tips”. None of us, me included, want or need more rules to govern our lives. Tips implies suggestions. I can decide whether these are good suggestions for me. And, they are. They inspire me.

1. Be who you want to be. Living a full, extraordinary, rewarding life starts here. We all have to make that crucial decision. Who am I? Not who am I supposed to be or who am I expected to be. Who I am? And how can I best live as me? This is, in reality, a life long process, moving fully into being the person I am created to be. Conversations with the Divine, meditation, and journaling have all helped me get clear about who I am, and allowed me to release who I am not.

2. Do the things you love…the things YOU love. This was easier to figure out, once I fully embraced who I am. Things I love include spending time with family, traveling, gardening, writing, engaging in creative play, helping people, watching movies, cooking and taking care of my health and wellbeing. I am capable and willing to do the things I love on my own.

3. Gather around people who uplift and support your vision. It’s helpful to find your tribe…like minded and like hearted people who get you, appreciate you and enjoy you. I’ve learned the importance of community. And, there is value as well in learning from people who are different from me. I think this tip is encouraging me to limit contact with negative, destructive or hurtful people who want to tear me and my ideas down rather than encourage and support me.

4. Carve out time for solitude. This tip is so vital to me that it gets a high priority in my life. I need times of solitude to function well. I like being alone to think, be creative, dream and recharge.

A selfie from my last getaway weekend, where I spent four days in solitude.

5. Respect the pace in which you are growing. It’s not a race or a competition. The only person I am comparing myself to is the person I was yesterday. Challenges can launch us into periods of rapid growth. I can look back and see the tremendous growth that occurred in my life, during some of my most difficult times. But we need quiet, smoother seasons as well, to allow those new growth experiences to sink in deeply, much as a young plant has times of rapid growth and times of putting down deep roots. I’m grateful for all of the challenges and joys in my life. They have contributed to me being exactly where I am, on my journey.

Those are my thoughts around the five great tips. Find a quiet place, take a few minutes, and think your own thoughts about what a full life looks like, to you. Journal about your thoughts, write a poem, paint a picture or create a dance that expresses what you uncover.

Amazingly I found another meme, immediately after finding the Tips for Living a Full Life, that provides the perfect follow up. You know what that means. Next Sunday’s inspiration is in the bag!

In the morning we catch a train to London. We are concluding the Scotland portion of our girls’ trip with an overnight stay in Glasgow. Most of the day was spent in the car, traveling south from Isle of Skye through the Highlands, arriving in the busy city mid afternoon. By the time we had lunch and headed out into the rain to sightsee, the day was fading.

No worries. We made the most of our time in Glasgow.

There was no time for the hop on/hop off bus. Instead we took a cab to the one site we all wanted to see…the Glasgow Cathedral and its gothic looking cemetery known as the Necropolis…the City of the Dead.

We barely made it in time for a quick tour of the cathedral. It is a beautiful Scottish gothic style structure, dedicated in 1136. There are catacombs beneath the upper cathedral that we walked through quietly. The kirk survived the medieval period intact and services are still held here.

Glasgow Cathedral.

The cathedral interior.

The catacombs in the lower chapel.

The Necropolis, established in 1832, rises up on a hill behind the cathedral. More than fifty thousand of Glasgow’s nobility and wealthy are buried in this Victorian cemetery, although there are only about 3500 monuments.

It was an amazing experience, walking through the Necropolis. The ancient structures, ranging in size from small headstones to huge majestic buildings and pillars, create a landscape that could be a scene from Phantom of the Opera or the Addams’ Family. The steady rain did not slow our exploration of this fascinating historical place, and we chose it as our group photo location.

We called another cab to take us to Buchanan Street, off of George Square, where we had a fun dinner and a drink to end our day and our stay in this beautiful country. And finally, we took a cab back to our hotel.

There was not time for more sightseeing or shopping. But what struck me today was how friendly the people of Glasgow are, and indeed, the people in all of Scotland. We asked our cab drivers what they liked about living in Glasgow…and they agreed that it is the people that make this bustling city what it is.

Our friendly and attentive waiter, Scott, slid into the booth with us for a few minutes, and shared his passion about his country and its people. We appreciated his remarks and his obvious love for Scotland, a love we share. The people here are good hearted and hard working, with cheerful dispositions. Some have a dry wit and some cracked us up with their amusing antics.

It was a wonderful way to end our stay in Scotland, being reminded that as gorgeous as the landscapes are in this country, it is the people who make this country such a joy to visit, play in and explore. Walking along Buchanan Street, I noticed the flags hanging on either side. I smiled in agreement. The people do make Glasgow. The people make Scotland.

The Italy Trip officially concluded today, when our second attempt at flying home was successful! It has been a very long day of travel. And yet I marvel that I showered and ate breakfast in Rome this morning…and tonight, I am in Joplin, Missouri. 

To my body, it feels like 4:30 am. Since I awoke at 5:15 this morning in Italy, I am at almost 24 hours without much sleep. I never can rest on airplanes. I watched four movies during the 11 hour flight from Rome to Dallas, Texas. And chatted with Dayan, who was seated next to me. 

As we neared our destination, we talked about the trip, and how much we enjoyed it. Italy 2017 truly was a dream come true for us.  I asked my grandson how this experience changed him. 

I loved the insights he shared with me. To state them briefly, Dayan mentioned that he learned more about not resisting what was going on. Our tour unfolded without a hitch. Our travel to and from Italy was fraught with disruptions and delays and cancellations. Dayan realized that fighting against what is happening is a waste of time. However, he also learned that taking action helps him move energy. 

When our flight cancelled yesterday, after we sat on the tarmac for five hours, Dayan took charge of calling American Airlines to find put what flight we had been booked on today. That action helped him to release frustration he felt about the cancellation and find something productive to do. 

Dayan’s second area of growth centered around our tour group. These 40 other travelers came from around the world. There were older couples and young adults, families and single people, quiet journeyers and boisterous ones. My wise grandson shared that he looked beyond outer appearances and personalities, getting to know people as they were, rather than forming judgments or quick opinions of them. He was more than sociable. He showed everyone that he genuinely cared about who they were. 

I appreciated Dayan’s remarks. And I agreed with him. I feel like travel changes me too. It enlarges my borders, literally and figuratively. Travel expands my perspectives and views, opens my heart and mind, and deepens my trust. I choose to stay in the flow when I travel, trusting that all is going as it should. 

There is a quote that reads: “Of all the books in the world the best stories are those found between the pages of a passport.” (Source unknown)

I so agree. In the upcoming days, I’ll be sharing some of those amazing stories from our Italy trip. However, now my body is crying out for rest. It’s going to feel wonderful to sleep in my own bed tonight! 

Thank you so much for journeying with me these past three years!

Please join me at my new blog site:

cindygoesbeyond.com

The adventure continues!