My 222 Angel

My mom likes to send me signs. When she passed over she visited a friend in his dream with the message to follow my dreams, and whenever I see a plane in the sky I am reminded of her. She even once drew my attention to the license plate “VIAJAR” (“travel” in Spanish) when we were leaving one of her favorite restaurants.

I miss her so much. I stifle a cry as I type this and feel the tears filling my eyes, but I know she’s doing a lot of great work on the other side, and I am grateful for the check-ins that she gives me. My mom reminds me she is still here by sending me signs. Sometimes symbols, sometimes birds. Sometimes songs (“Hotel California”!) But lately it’s been the number 222.

My mom and sister and I used to talk about metaphysics often before she had passed, particularly the few years before, when I had been in the School of Metaphysics. We talked about dreams and numerology and angels. We all loved being surprised by fun combinations of numbers on our odometers and microwave clocks and license plates. My sister says Mom particularly loved triple digits.

Somehow she communicated to me a little over a month ago that she’d be talking to me through 2’s — and boy did she ever! The price for the RV park was $222/week. At the next RV park we were at site 22. The number has continued to pop up in purchases I’ve made , on websites, and in all kinds of fun and random places. The book I recently bought and started reading has 222 pages. This morning I noticed my work’s TikTok account now has 222 followers and there were 222 work emails!

I still get upset, wishing I could hold her hand again, hug her again, talk with her again. But I know she is talking to me, in the best way I can receive it right now. And I hope that through my studies our relationship will grow even closer, and I look forward to seeing her again on the other side.

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