What's In A Name?

The sky was a brilliant blue as we drove through Dillon, Colorado to the ice castle. But having arrived, we decided it was more kitch than cool and we’d rather find some place to play in the snow. We were in Denver for a family gathering and decided to take our "Florida boys" up into the mountains. They were both born in LA, but were young when we left and mostly remember people rather than places we went. Eli had relatively mild winters while living in Saint Louis for college and up to this point, I didn't think either of our boys had ever had a “real” winter or snow experience.

We decided to skip the overpriced, oddly colored ice castle and explore the town instead. A sign for the local amphitheater caught our attention so we went to check it out. Since this was January in the Rocky Mountains, we figured at the very least, it would be a big open space filled with snow. It turned out to be so much more!

The theater sat beside a beautiful lake and I am certain the view is gorgeous in Spring. This day it was frozen solid, and the stark view was simply stunning. We walked, or rather slid down the snow-covered stairs and out to the main area of the performance space where the boys instantly broke into a snowball fight. They were merciless and it was wonderful to see them having so much fun! We made snow angels, well... my younger son and I made snow angels while his brother derided us for being lame. What can you do?

When they were finally finished, we walked out onto the lake. I knew they'd never seen or done anything like that before and, aside from our footsteps and giggles, it was silent and serene. Naturally, they were bored in about five minutes.

Eventually, wet, and frozen, we made our way back to the car. My faux Uggs having little to no traction on the stairs, I slipped and twisted my knee. At the time I figured it was just a strain or pull and put it out of my mind. With enough Motrin, you can ignore anything, right?

I iced, I stretched, I took Ibuprofen and even had my husband do healing work on me. It wasn’t enough. I was getting better, though I knew whatever it was, it was not fully mending, and I needed to see the orthopedist. My dad is a DO and I'm no stranger to doctors but at this point in my life, I consider them a last resort. By this time though, practically everyone in my family had been treated by Dr. Matt for something so I guess it was my turn. I wasn't surprised when he suggested I had a torn meniscus and sent me for an MRI. If he was right, there would be surgery in my future and that prospect did not appeal to me at all.

Weeks passed and I did nothing. I had the MRI and still did nothing. Finally, I had enough and called Matt's practice to make an appointment. We changed insurance at the start of the year and made sure to pick a plan

his office accepted, except now, in the new year, they didn't. Shit.

I came out of my office on the verge of tears and sat down on the couch. Now I had to find another doctor, one I'd like and trust. Great...

All things work together for good. I remind myself of this every single day. Especially when I hit bumps in my road, I stop and remind myself, "the Universe is working something out for me, be patient." As much as I hate it when things don't go the way I want them to, the truth is they usually work out better if I just hush and stay out of the way so, I started asking around for a new doctor.

In less than a day I had a list of doctors who took our insurance, and at the top was a guy from my hometown. He was a little older than me though we knew all the same places and even some of the same people. I liked his background, where he went to school and that his practice was doctor owned. He was my guy, and even better, he could see me that week. During my appointment we talked about where we grew up, sports teams, and my knees. An hour later, I walked out the door, scheduled for surgery the following week. The whole thing could not have been easier or smoother. Thank you Universe!

However, the Universe forgot to tell my new insurance company I was waiting for surgery. Three times I was scheduled for knee surgery and three times I was pushed back because the insurance company hadn't yet provided the authorization. Bonus: I got three free Covid tests

.

Conventional wisdom says that everyone who put off elective surgery in 2020, due to the pandemic, was now rushing forward to get their insurance authorizations, and my provider at least, was completely inundated. While I was frustrated, I also realized that my original dates were during the two weeks preceding Mercury Retrograde, which is largely understood to be a bad time to do anything major; buy a house, get married, have surgery... My bad.

Finally, the day arrived. The insurance was authorized, my (third) Covid test was negative and my amazing girlfriends had loaded me up with a Get Well Soon gift box including grippy socks and The Most fabulous super soft, fluffy blanket to take with me to the surgical center. Because of the pandemic, I had to do this by myself and no one could come in with me. My husband dropped me at the door and until he came back to pick me up, I was on my own.

All through the weeks of waiting, I'd been asking my Twin to be with me. I haven't had surgery, or really anything medical (gratefully so) since my younger son was born, and he's twenty now! "Please be with me through this process" I repeated to myself again and again.

Since he's in spirit now, I didn't think it was too much to ask. Sitting alone in the waiting room, I listened to music on my phone, music he had recorded for me. I'll never be able to talk with him again but every day I am grateful to still hear his voice in the music he made, just for me. As I listened, I was genuinely surprised how calm I felt.

"Shari..." a voice called from behind me. A kind looking man with peachy skin stood holding the door. As I walked towards him, he said, "Hi, I'm Joe*. I'll be taking care of getting you settled in and ready for surgery today."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, dumbstruck.

As I followed him down the hall, I thought, "What are the odds a male nurse, with the same name as my Twin would be the person watching over me today?" Left Brain says the odds are something like 100 to one, while Soul Brain says, "Of course he has the same name. Of course, he looks like him, with similar features and similar energy about him.” Of course… I asked him to be with me, to show me he was there, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was.

Apparently though, he wasn’t done. To make sure I truly believed he was with me, he had one more card to play. I am part of a mediumship mentorship program and once a month we gather (on Zoom) to work together, support each other, and hone our skills. I attended but, since I was still hopped up on drugs, I chose not to work. I was paired with another medium whom I knew

to be very qualified.

The instructions were for the sitter (in this case, me) to share a modicum of information about a person in the spirit world and, since we wouldn’t be taking turns, I would be able to share about two people. Of course, I picked Twin. I also picked Michael. Both were important to me and they couldn't be more different from each other. I shared about Michael first, and though he did come through, it was Twin who came through immediately and, according to the medium doing the reading, "he barged right in to make sure I knew he was there" and shared a wealth of evidential information.

My partner did not know me, did not know anything about me and did a great job of allowing these men who I love, to speak through him and remind me they are here. To say I am grateful doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Our loved ones are with us. The relationship and the reality of the situations has changed, but not the importance, and not the connection. The truth is, the more we open to them, the more they can show us.

*not his real name

For more information about my Twin, check out an earlier blog post entitled "Him." https://www.sharidworkinsmith.com/single-post/2017/12/19/him