Making Meaning From Loss: Signs and Synchronicities

In yesterday’s post, I began a conversation with Maryanne O’Hara about her raw, uplifting memoir in the vein of The Year of Magical Thinking. Little Matches: A Memoir of Grief and Light illuminates her grief over the loss of her adult child and considers the hope of soulful connections that transcend the boundary between life and death.

Little Matches

Source: Maryanne O'Hara

Lynne: When Caitlin was gravely ill, in what would be her final days, she asked for those she loved to be ferociously positive. I found Caitlin to be ferociously positive for all of her life. What did this request mean for you then, when she asked for this specific intention? What does it mean to you now?

Maryanne: She was always positive, yes, but there was also always a good deal of hope, and for much of her life she lived what we would call a pretty normal one, at least on the outside. At the end, her risk of death was far higher and she knew that better than anyone, I see that now. Being ferociously positive was being positive against all odds. It’s the positivity of the man with his neck in the noose, it’s the positivity of Jeanne d'Arc at the stake.

Lynne: After Caitlin passed, you had a deep need for signs that she was still present in your life. Can you tell us about this experience? What have others who’ve experienced painful loss told you about their experience and/or desire for signs?

Maryanne: What happened was that I kept receiving signs. Synchronicities that I originally dismissed as coincidences or odd occurrences began to pile up to the point that I realized that discounting them was a bit myopic. And when I shared my stories of these happenings, the most unlikely people would tell me similar stories. So many people shared, in fact, that I began to think, “there’s more to all this than most people are talking about.”

Lynne: You set out to learn more about signs, or synchronicities. How does what we know about neuroscience and spirituality intersect for you?

Maryanne: A hundred years ago, a man named Eden Philpotts wrote: “The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.” So much of what we take for granted is made of discoveries that would have seemed completely fantastical—even frightening—not very long ago.

When I began to read the science community’s explorations of the source of consciousness, I braced myself, thinking there would be hard proof that consciousness could not survive the death of the body. Instead, I discovered that science calls consciousness “the hard problem.” Two of the certified mediums that I mention in the book, Laura Lynne Jackson and Karissa Dorman, have had neuroscientists record the electrical activity in their brains, via qEEG brain mapping, while engaged in psychic activity. The resulting data showed significant abnormality during the psychic state.

Since there are no objective truths, as yet, we each must determine, for ourselves, our personal truths. That’s the journey I recount in Little Matches.

Lynne: You spent a good deal of your life as a caretaker, and now you spend time supporting others with end-of-life care. Can you share with us the grace that comes when caring for people at this deeply meaningful time in their lives?

Maryanne: I recently became a certified end-of-life doula and plan to start hospice volunteering once COVID allows. But I’ve been a volunteer of one sort or another for much of my life.

Before we moved to Pittsburgh to wait for Caitlin’s transplant, I was a weekly volunteer for the successful and popular Reiki program for inpatients at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. I was the one who said, “Don’t give me maternity. I’d like to be with the terminal patients, please.” I like being with people when they need kindness most.

In Pittsburgh, I visited a man with ALS once a week. He was a Taoist and accepting of his own death. He and I talked openly, in a way that was honest and refreshing, about the point of life and what dying might feel like, and what might be waiting for us on the other side. He was still alive when I moved back to Boston. I would text him photographs of beautiful scenes like green meadows and the red clay cliffs on Martha’s Vineyard.

Synchronicity Essential Reads

Riding Waves of Rhythm, Frequency, and Levels of Awareness

The Consciousness Code: Sound Frequency and Synchronicity

On the morning after the day I knew that he had chosen to go off the vent, I woke up thinking, "He’s gone.” I was startled to see that he had texted me at midnight to say he’d decided to wait for the eclipse. “I leave tomorrow. I plan on leaving in the shadow of the moon. I needed to say goodbye and thank you and Caitlin for your love and friendship.”

It’s hard to put into words but that was one of the most meaningful moments of my life. He had a wonderful sense of humor and promised to visit me as a bluejay — and I can tell you that I had a very funny bluejay encounter right after he died.

Lynne: During Caitlin’s life, she fought for the preservation of Prouty Garden at Children’s Hospital in Boston. Together, you and Caitlin spent much time in that sacred place. How does nature positively impact healing? How did it for you and your family? How does it now?

Maryanne: Oh my. I tell everyone that the best thing they can do for themselves is get out in nature. Connect with the planet. Take off your shoes and feel grass. Breathe clean air. You will feel better. We are small humans connected to eternity and we are meant to see stars at night.

Lynne: Recently someone referred to Little Matches as “a healing garden of words.” What are your hopes for readers who immerse themselves in this narrative?

Maryanne: The reaction of early readers has been wonderful because what they are saying tells me I achieved what I set out to do: to write a book that is clear-eyed and unsentimental in its recounting of what’s hard, and is ultimately life-affirming, comforting, and inspiring. The stories, the messages, my daughter’s old-soul wisdom — it’s all sparks of light in the dark. We are all temporary, and I believe that acknowledging the reality of that can go a long way toward living a meaningful life for yourself.

To learn more about Maryanne O’Hara’s work, visit her website and her blog.