I wrote this blog title the other day and all of a sudden remembered the Rodney Dangerfield movie by the same name. Hahaha. Rodney Dangerfield. That just goes to show you how much comedy is infused in my life and why I support the amazing and incredibly talented Erin Conroy, friend and comedian extraordinaire!
I’ve digressed, forgive me. I have been seeing ladybugs the past couple of weeks. I even bought a ladybug backpack as a gift for a friend that recently had a baby girl.
When I was a kid, I remember being told that ladybugs mean good luck. They were the only bug I allowed myself to like as a child. Although, I was fascinated by worms, but I still disliked them as a whole. I think it had something to do with growing up in NYC with roaches. ICK!
Anyway, ladybugs and snow took on completely different meanings in February 1992. My paternal grandmother, Germaine, also known as Frenchy, passed away that year. I was 11, not yet 12 and whereas I had spent very little time that I can remember with her as a small child, I spent the last six months of her life with her living in my room. She passed away in the hospital, but prior to that she slept in my room. I remember talking to her before and after school. I remember the spider she killed with her bare finger-the spot remaining on that wall until we moved out. I remember talking to her about my French studies in school and about how much I loved the Disney movie “Beauty and the Beast” (it is my favorite Disney movie). I remember her commenting on how many times I had seen the movie (5!). And most importantly, I remember her enjoying her final days while staying in my room. It really taught me the importance of compassion.
I wish I had asked her so many questions- about why she never wanted to go back to France, or about her brother and father and mother-all individuals I know nothing about. I wish I had asked her to help me get to France, because I’ve always wanted to live there. I wish I had asked her a million questions and yet, I was 11, I didn’t know. We had just moved to Cleveland Heights, Ohio from Brooklyn, NY and I was busy dealing with the change of being an awkward pre-teen in a new city and school.
It’s been 20 years since she passed, which is incredible to think about. It’s funny how things change over time. For example, I don’t remember thinking much about her as a teenager or young adult. I mean, I did and we always had pictures of her up in our home and we talked about her, but as time goes on, the pain of death lessens. It never goes away, and I think children handle it differently, but I never grew up pained by my grandmother(s) deaths (they died the same year, two months apart from cancer). I knew they were in pain and it was their time to leave. I definitely missed seeing them and being held by them, but it wasn’t the way I feel now as I deal with my father’s death.
So this is where the ladybugs come in. Apparently, ladybugs were my grandmother’s favorite. It became a thing in our family to say that whenever a ladybug appears, it’s really grandma giving us a sign that things are okay. I know some of you may be thinking, “this is nothing but mysticism hogwash, “but as I’ve gotten older I’ve begun to realize just how real this connection is.
Since my own father passed away in 2009, I have been seeing ladybugs when my life is a huge crux-when I have decisions to make, or plans to change. For example, in 2009, after walking around the city of Naples, Italy, I went to Castel Nuovo, a castle and started taking pictures of the water and sites in the distance. As I wandered around the top, I came to a glass map and discovered three ladybugs all together.
I cried for about 30 minutes. I took pictures of them, or tried to, I could really only get one at a time, but the entire time I kept thinking, “You’re happy I’m here. This is where I am supposed to be.”
It would be a few days later, almost five, where I would have the dream that planted the seed for S2 Stationery and Design and well, now the rest is history.
A year later, the ladybugs would take over my kitchen in Astoria, New York, as I got ready to move out of my apartment of 3.5 years and away from the guy who had been one of my best friends and roommate at the time into an apartment in Manhattan. I was stressed and frantic with worry because I was also in route to Cape Town, South Africa for an environmental volunteer research expedition through the Earthwatch Institute and was going to come home and have to move. I was nervous about leaving the dog, who I had fallen in love with and about the change that was about to take place. It was huge and frightening.
Yet, in all that fear, ladybugs started taking over my kitchen. There were five total on certain days. For two weeks, until I moved out of the apartment completely, they were there. I’d see either all five, or one. As soon as they appeared, I knew that I was making the right choice; that this change was not anything to fear and that much like in Naples, Italy that day, I was being surrounded by love and light from my ancestors.
As I move back into today, Tuesday, 2012, nearly two years later, I’m getting ready to make a big decision and some moves and so the ladybug backpack that I’ve bought aside, I’m taking all the signs of ladybugs I’ve been seeing, like the guy on the train last Friday who wore a bejeweled ladybug hat, that I’m moving in the right direction.
So yeah. Whatever you believe in as your luck, believe it wholeheartedly. You never know when it will appear, but when it appears, never doubt that it means something good is on it’s way.
Thank you, Frenchy, for believing in me now; I need it, as you already know.