Signs & symbols surround us and many of them hold messages that we should heed. Guidelines. Insights. Hints about the future that may transpire.
In October when we were in Asheville, we went into a shop where Megan decorated a ceramic plate that was a tribute to and a gift for her roommate, Erin. I don’t recall what it said, but do remember that it was a nice tribute to their friendship. The plate was to be delivered once it was fired.
A few weeks later Rob and I were visiting Megan and noticed the ceramic plate from Asheville on the counter. It was broken and chipped. A tube of super glue sat beside it. “What happened?” Rob asked.
“Oh, Erin put it in the dishwasher and it broke when we took it out,” Megan replied. “I’m going to fix it with super glue.”
Later that evening, Rob remarked, “That’s not a good sign, Trish, about her continuing to live here.”
“Oh, c’mon,” I said, “They’ve already agreed that she’ll sign a new contract on December 2. It’s fine. The broken plate is a fluke.”
Erin, after all, is a woman Megan has known for a decade, since she was 16 and she and Erin were interning at Dolphins Plus in Key Largo. They maintained a friendship over the years and when Megan moved to Orlando, she and Megan reconnected. In late 2014, Erin’s parents bought a great little house on an acre of land that backed up a lake, and Erin asked Megan to live with her. Nika, Megan’s dog, had a great yard to run around in and chase squirrels and Megan had her art room filled with paintings. An ideal setup. The house was close to Megan’s dog walking clients and her Paint Nite venues. She has been really happy in this house.
But Rob kept referring back to the broken plate, how it was like a symbol from a dream that you’re supposed to pay attention to. We had both been reading Robert Moss’s book, The Boy Who Died and Came Back, and I felt we were unduly influenced by it. I mean, c’mon, sometimes events are just stuff that happens, right?
Shortly before Thanksgiving, Megan and I returned from a trip to Asheville, North Carolina, where we attended an Abraham-Hicks two-day conference. The conference was wonderful, the trip was great, but as soon as we walked into Megan’s place in Orlando, there was that plate still on the counter chipped and broken, still not repaired. That night when Erin got home from work, she seemed strangely preoccupied, uneasy, and I felt that maybe she resented my presence there as Megan’s mom. She said she was just stressed from work. I felt otherwise.
I kept obsessing about the broken plate, that broken tribute to a friendship.Fast forward to November 30. Megan had arrived back in Orlando after the Thanksgiving holidays and had gone out and bought a Christmas tree for the house. Our neighbor had given us some Christmas ornaments that I passed on to Megan and I’d found some Christmas lights on sale that I passed on to her.
But when she walked in the house that evening, Erin informed Megan that her brother had gotten a job in Orlando and wanted to live in the house and Megan would have to move out. All this, despite the fact that they had discussed the renewed contract and living together for another four or five years. She had known this since before Thanksgiving- when I’d felt her unease.
Erin’s argument? He’s my brother, what can I say? Well, the only thing to say here is that Erin’s parents own the house.
My dad bought me my first property, a one bedroom condo in Vero Beach, back in the day when 15 grand was a lot of money. He never tried to control what I did with that place, who I invited there, who I lived with, nothing. It was mine. My rent went to him. When I sold the place, I kept the profit and used it for a down payment on another condo, in Fort Lauderdale. In other words there were never strings attached.
Rob recognized the sign and Megan and I refused to acknowledge.
I don’t know if the friendship is as broken as the plate.But the living arrangement is broken. The big question now is: what’s next? We’ve found a one bedroom-place that may work, in the same general area in Orlando. We’ll see what signs and symbols have to say and proceed from there. Never again will I dismiss a sign as some random event. As Robert Hopcke said in his book by the same name, There Are No Accidents. We do not live in a random universe. The only question is simple: Are we paying attention?




















