So why is it when I see a ladybug I feel like it's all going to be okay?
When I was little my mother and I would find ladybugs in harm's way. We would transport them to a flower bush, shrub or tree. It's just one of those happy little memories you keep from childhood that makes feel safe and secure.
I was a director running two different Day Programs for individuals with developmental disabilities and mental health issues. The County always gave us the most difficult people. But with the help of my wonderful staff we were able to enhance and enrich the quality of their lives through volunteer and work placements.
After the death of my mother I was barely functioning. But I didn't have the luxury of curling up into a ball and hiding. Sixty-five staff and fifty individuals I was serving depended on me. I would literally go back and forth between programs to simply cry hysterically in the car on the drive over. (Of course, I doubt my red eyes and blotchy face hid my misery but I tried). Whenever dark thoughts invaded (which was most of the time) I would find a ladybug. I would find them in the oddest places. one time I was crying as I was cleaning my kitchen and I opened the freezer to see one inside. I found 57 little spotted friends from Oct 22nd to April.
Anyway, on one of my sad rides between programs, I was weeping and screaming (I was angry. I felt betrayed. I was devastated.) I stopped at a red light, and screamed for my mother to tell me she was okay. That was the least she could fucking well do. I blew my nose and wiped my eyes cause the light was going to change. There directly in the middle of a crosswalk on a 6 lane road was a brand new lady bug beanie baby. I looked around and got out of the car to fetch it. No children were around (no real sidewalk). I remember thinking it was time to see a therapist because I was losing what was left of my freaking mind.
It wasn't the first time I saw a therapist. Therapy is a quite self indulgence proposition if you let it be. I don't believe in wasting money or time so on the very first session I spilled my guts… my bad thoughts, my anger and my fear I was losing my mind. I detailed every ladybug incident that had occurred. (Being rather good at reading people, I knew she thought I had diverted my grief into looking for affirmations that my mother was truly okay.)
So she is gearing up to guide me back to reality. Drop. I look over at her pad of paper, the one that had all my craziness scrawled on it… drop. As if the scene was written for Hollywood movie we both did a coordinated glance up to the ceiling. Inside the light, all around the light and marching in a direct line from the window were hundreds of ladybugs. She opened her mouth several times to say something and closed it each time. I pointed up and said "You see what I mean. It's rather insane." She gave me a quick nod and ended the session. The next week, I decided I didn't need to talk about it because no one was taking my ladybugs away from me.
Through the years since I've had many interactions with ladybugs. They usually happen when I am in an ugly place, in crisis mode or in need of support. So my Pretties, two days ago when I was having some issues and a little spotted friend landed on my bathroom mirror... I felt the need to share with you. I believe in ladybugs and love that is so strong even death only delays the reunion but not the communication.