When I do rise it’s to the sweet sound of the doves and the dim light of the early dawn. Pulling my robe around me, I stumble to the computer with sleep still in my eyes. I feel compelled to write about my mother- Susan Hoffman- and as my fingers effortlessly dance across the keys I realize that my inner voice, the one that had me slip back into that lucid dream, could be the same voice my mother listened to the day she was told that she could not have any more children. It was not the voice of the doctor. What she heard within her heart was another voice, the inner voice that speaks not in words but in the wordless language of the heart. Like an oracle who only speaks the truth, this connection with the cosmos is a love beyond human love. It is divine; this love that created us all. This God that is beyond any form and yet we all try to express it through myriad ways. That day, my mother did not listen to the doctor’s grim prognosis; instead she listened to that still voice inside of her that told her to ask for what she wanted. She wanted children.
As I write I can see her arriving at the bottom of the steps of St. Joseph’s Oratory in Quebec. Sue is committed to this pilgrimage she is about to embark on. Deep down inside she knows that prayer is the only thing she can do now. As she looks around she sees crutches and wheelchairs lined up beside the long staircase up to the chapel. This reminds her that miracles do happen here. Her heart has been grieving the loss of her little boy who had been stillborn just months before. Her husband Phil is by her side yet her focus is within. A woman with twins walks in front of her. She looks at Phil without saying a word. She knows she will pray for twins. With rosary in hand she touches each round stone as the Our Fathers and Hail Marys roll off her tongue like the music of the angels. Her faith is strong. No one can take her away from her deep desire to be a mother. One step at a time, she anchors in the love that is guiding her here to trust in the divine. Phil prays with her for a few steps and then bends tenderly to her ear and whispers, “I will meet you in the bar at the hotel. Take all the time you need. I will be waiting for you”. He leaves and as he walks away, Phil looks back at her with deep devotion. Her beauty takes his breath away. She is the love of his life and he knows that there is nothing he can do to make her happy right now. He can’t fake it and pray. He still holds the anger for the priest who would not bless the grave because his beautiful and perfect baby boy was born dead. God feels far away for him right now and a cold drink is what he needs.
There are so many steps to climb. Sue is dedicated to talking to God and she trusts her prayers will be heard. She feels the presence wrapping around her like a shawl. Tears caress her face for as she is mourning the death of her child she feels the longing to birth another child. This crowded sanctuary does not distract her in anyway. She feels as if she is alone with God, being led by a spirit that is bigger than anything of this world. It all feels so holy as she shares this intimate experience with strangers all coming for the same purpose. Each person is a companion on this pilgrimage. Is it God’s plan for her to have children? Inside her heart she trusts that it is so.
That night we were conceived. I say we because, 9 months later our mother gave birth to triplets. Francine, Colleen and Philomene. Yes, a miracle took place that day. The story is told that our mother prayed for twins and dad threw in an extra prayer, so there were three.
It’s now light outside and I leave the computer and reach into my jewelry box and there sits the pendant that my mother bought the day we were conceived. I put it around my neck. My hand lifts up to the round locket with a picture of Mother Mary engraved on the front. As I slide it open there is the tiniest inscription of the Lord’s Prayer in full. I can hardly make it out. On the back are my mother’s initials SH. I am brought into her loving embrace as I wrap my hands around this locket, warm with the realization of how precious my life and the lives of my sisters are.
I believe that dreams bring us guidance. After I had that lucid one where I stood in front of that stone wall gazing at the symbols inscribed I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Usually I write my dreams in a journal as soon as I open my eyes or I will lose them. With this dream I had total recall and a strong sense that I was receiving information. I felt as if I was right there, touching the stone and feeling a part of something much bigger than my eyes could see. The dream was directing me. Looking up the symbol of ‘rock’ I read its meaning: strength, grounding, personal power. Just prior to falling asleep the night before, I asked for direction in writing a book with my sisters. It was our time now to move into the world together. We had been on our separate journeys, healing our childhood wounds, raising children and developing careers and learning to follow and trust that precious voice that guides us. I felt inspired with this dream that was taking me to a higher level of consciousness. I quickly got dressed to go to work and the words rose up in my heart, “ask and you will receive.”
Arriving at the office I was moved to share the dream with my first client and friend Kitty who then said she studied the origin of language. I did not know this about her. My excitement grew as she told me that she would help me decipher the word hieroglyphics. Later that day, she sent me this information that seemed to fit in so well with all that I was trying to understand.
…Origin of the word hieroglyphics: “hieros” means sacred and “glypho” means carve or engrave. Hieroglyphics were sacred in ancient times because they were always associated with priests and priestesses. The definition is actually “a symbol or picture used in a writing system to denote an object, concept, sound, or sequence of sounds.” Then Kitty wrote in her email, “it was a way of communicating before there were words- just like you did with Colleen and Philomene when you were still in the womb.” I liked that. It just showed me again how divine it all seems to be when you are open to see all the pieces that begin to fall into place.
Can we trust that voice? What voice you might say? When the doctor told my mom she could not have any more babies, she did not listen to him. She listened to the voice of her heart. She had fear and she had lots of grief and yet with her great faith she prayed and connected to a love beyond all of our understandings. God was right there guiding her way with deep love.
-Excerpt from upcoming book with Frannie’s triplet sisters “Three Voices, One Message”, www.3voices1truth.com
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