#tweetstoheaven.

I was out with a good friend last night and she told me that after her cousin died when they were teenagers, she wrote him a letter and left it on his grave. The problem with that idea for me is that I’ve been to the cemetery and I’m pretty sure that’s not where my mom is hanging out. But the idea of sending a message out into the ether seemed oddly comforting – and they probably have internet up there (minus all the annoying advertisements and spam).

So, I may have finally found a use for my Twitter accountย  – aside from stalking celebrities. Not that I do that. That would be creepy. Anyway. I could send random tweets about the kind of nothing I used to share with my mom twice a day out into the ether and she could read them and then we could be all caught up on our discussions about nothing. Well, it makes sense to me. This is the way I see it going: tweetstoheaven 1tweetstoheaven 7tweetstoheaven 6 tweetstoheaven 5tweetstoheaven 8

These are just examples. It could work. And then it could catch on and become wildly popular and the Twitterverse will be overrun by people having conversations with dead people. Then I’ll have more to do on Twitter than checking to see if William Shatner has been fighting with any fans lately or whether Nathan Fillion is finally gonna reply to one of my tweets. Not that I tweet him. That would be sad. #celebritystalker.

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  23 comments for “#tweetstoheaven.

  1. January 9, 2015 at 7:23 pm

    Not a bad idea at all!

  2. PJ
    January 9, 2015 at 12:01 pm

    love the idea..i want to do that!

    • January 9, 2015 at 12:03 pm

      Everyone should do it ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. January 9, 2015 at 1:05 pm

    It’s a perfect idea! I’m sure your mom loves hearing from you! -Calliopunk

    • January 9, 2015 at 1:14 pm

      Maybe even moreso in 140 characters or less ๐Ÿ˜‰

  4. January 9, 2015 at 1:19 pm

    Your tweets to heaven are oddly haunting.

    • January 9, 2015 at 2:15 pm

      yeah, I think I’m trying to get haunted ๐Ÿ˜‰

  5. January 9, 2015 at 2:46 pm

    LOVE it

  6. January 9, 2015 at 6:38 pm

    As I read, I loved and braced myself at the very same time.

    Mishka…true ๐Ÿ˜”โค๏ธ

  7. January 9, 2015 at 6:40 pm

    Okay that sounded like I loved myself.

    Scratch that.

    Let me try again.

    I loved reading every one, but braced myself the whole way through.

    Slightly better ; )

  8. January 9, 2015 at 6:43 pm

    And in answer to what I know was a rhetorical question (kind of defeats the purpose doesn’t it? But hey that’s what you keep me around for) PISSED!!!

    • January 12, 2015 at 8:46 am

      Yeah yeah yeah. I know ๐Ÿ˜‰

  9. January 9, 2015 at 6:44 pm

    And… I have a request, please keep posting them here. I’m not on Twitter.

    • January 12, 2015 at 8:47 am

      You can read my Twitter posts on the side bar on this page…or get a Twitter ๐Ÿ˜‰

  10. January 9, 2015 at 6:46 pm

    On a side note: unsure why my heart is red over here and black when it posts.

  11. January 11, 2015 at 6:31 am

    What an interesting way to grieve…and who can resist the idea of still being able to “talk” to those on the other side?

    • January 12, 2015 at 8:47 am

      Now if I could just figure out how to get a *response*…that would be the real trick ๐Ÿ˜‰

  12. January 12, 2015 at 3:25 pm

    They’ll come. Sometimes in a way you were hoping, and other times, a way all their own.

    I don’t know how you feel about this sort of thing, but for me, it truly began with Kama and picked up from there. There are too many. They can’t be denied. I sometimes shake my head in disbelief.

    I feel comfort in knowing just as Kama and Aviana come back, your mom will too. If not already.

    I know it’s a sucky consolation, but we have no other choice : / AHHHH! No other choice ; ) Okay, I’ll take the signs ; ) I’ll take the songs. I’ll take them guiding me in the right direction. I’ll take Rainey, and all her ‘Kama specific’ mannerisms. I’ll take the dang neighbor girl who’s exactly ‘well’ Aviana incarnate – even though my heart rips as she runs away from her mommy and into my arms. I bleed as her little arms hold on tightly, and her tears drip down my neck. Little Lilly – Little Aviana. Same – same. Love – Pain. I take, take, take, the little bits and pieces of what remains. Even if not physical, I’m convinced (and maybe I’m wrong, but I feel it), they are still here. They surround. They love. And love never ends. It can never be severed, or separated.

    I love you so much.

    You know, you are the first best friend I ever had. You set the bar for my entire life of friends.

    โค๏ธ <— I know, you will turn black on me… like Halloween. So that's cool, and appropriate. You know what you are doing after all.

    • January 12, 2015 at 3:58 pm

      Aww. Thanks, Jen โค

      And I hope you're right. I would take any little sign/feeling/inkling that she was still around somehow…somewhere. I'm not picky.

      P.S. how do you always seem to know when I need a little pick-me-up? (Well, more than usual, anyway.)

  13. February 23, 2015 at 10:49 am

    You’d mentioned how similar our circumstances are, well I just about laughed aloud when I read your tweet about getting a tattoo! My mom would have been so ticked off if I ever got one. But it’s been on my mind a lot lately. You think it’s common in grief? My reasoning is that I feel so disconnected from my body and myself that I’m looking for a way to reconnect to the living. And maybe make a firm statement about who or what I used to be before she died. I am aware that it screams desperate crisis. I can’t help but smile, knowing how my mom would react. She was a purist.

    • February 23, 2015 at 10:58 am

      Well, I have a tattoo that I got when I was 28 and my mom didn’t speak to me for FOUR DAYS! So my “how ticked would you be” was a little bit rhetorical ๐Ÿ˜‰ She hates them. I definitely get the draw though…my 20-year-old daughter was really close to my mom as well and she wants to get one as a memorial to her. It’s tough though because we know it would make them cringe! I get the disconnect, though. And I just keep looking for something – anything – that will make me happy, but it’s a little like grasping at straws and everything turns up empty. I realize it’s a process, but good God – it’s so painfully slow. You realize how sad and removed you are when you catch brief glimpses of your former self…and wish you could hang onto them for more than a moment. Sigh.

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