Growing up, my father always saw the repeating numbers "5:56" which is 5:5+6=11 or 5:11. May is the "5" and 5+6 equals 11, or May 11th. I never made any connection between the numbers my father constantly complained about and my #Twin until fall 2015. I met my #Twin, a gifted psychic-medium, in 2013. About six months after we met, my #Twin revealed he saw two dates connected to us, but he only told me after I mentioned having dreams about important dates myself. I used imagery, rather than specific months, saying one date had to do with the color green, and the other, with a horned animal. We tried not to create psychological effects on each other, turning something truly psychic into more like follow the leader. March 18th was one of the dates I saw; when my #Twin said he saw that same date as well, it was more than interesting. Later, I thought my #Twin might return on March 18th after disappearing months earlier. But almost a year after we separated, I would learn the true connection to March 18th. But first, let me explain what happened with the second date we both "saw."
The other date my #Twin mentioned was May 11th (or 5:56). Of course, I never related it to my father's obsession with 5:56 until almost a year after #Emma's death in late fall 2015. Both my #Twin and I saw a date in springtime connected to our daughter, who would not even be a spark in our collective-eye until late July 2014. Our daughter's due date was May 11th. But I saw a horned animal in connection to her birth, which could have been Taurus's bull (May 11th) or the ram that represents Aries (mid-April). And, the date I saw was not May 11th; it was in April. April 16th, to be exact (which is also connected to my father's numbers: 5+5+6=16). My father happens to be a Taurus born on the Aries cusp. Anyone else getting a chill??? Wait for it...it gets better.
As it turns out, my #Twin and I were both right. While the due date for #Emma was estimated for May 11th, after a doctor appointment in December, it looked like our daughter was going to be scheduled for delivery in mid-April. She was a big baby even though she somehow kept herself a secret for a very long time, that is, until her strong kicks began "popping." Emma was like her dad in that way, lurking in the shadows, keeping secrets, then, after letting me know and love her, disappearing.
The doctor was concerned I would have trouble if Emma got any bigger than eight pounds. Based on her current growth rate, that would hit sometime around mid-April. We picked April 16th (April=4+1+6=11) as our target for delivery. April 16th happened to contain both my Soul number and my #Twin's, something I was completely unaware of at the time. Though today it's clear these synchronicities are connected to my #Twin journey, I would not even be open to receiving that knowledge for another eleven months after Emma's death. But my #Twin and I both knew Emma was there; we had just convinced ourselves it wasn't possible. Too soon. And, it was.
Sadly, I began losing #Emma on December 11th, 11 days after I saw her father for the last time. I was traveling to be with family after unexpectedly finding myself alone, hopeful that the gush of blood and organic material was not what it actually was--though it could be nothing else, and part of me knew that. The doctor told me over the phone it was likely Emma was gone. I still held out hope. After all, we were not "normal" people. But tests confirmed what had happened. My #Twin disappeared on November 29th (November=11 and 2+9=11, or 11:11); he wasn't with me when I began hemorrhaging in a roadside gas station bathroom in Kentucky--but I wished he was. I tried contacting him, but he never responded. Still hasn't. At least, not about #Emma. Apparently, other issues are more important for him to address than the loss of his first child. That's negative energy between us. Perhaps one day, we'll have the chance to clear it. And yes, for the #TwinFlames out there, it is connected to our soul-karma. Perhaps I will write about that in a future essay. For now, today has been difficult enough.
Ever-onward, dear readers, ever-onward....
My #Twin and I both saw a white sand beach in connection to March 18th; we thought it meant something else. Not quite a year after we separated, I learned my uncle, also gifted like my #Twin and I, who died saving another soldier in World War II under Patton, had been with me since childhood in spirit. The day he signed up for military service was, in fact, March 18th. I visited his grave in the Netherlands in December 2013. My #Twin and I were already connected but it was my first time traveling alone after learning to walk independently again. My #Twin was the one who encouraged me to stick with my physical therapy; he was ultimately the reason I was able to make the trip at all. My #Twin also kept me company during my travels, making sure I was safe, and sharing in the journey through pictures and constant communication, even though I was five hours ahead. As I read over that last sentence about my #Twin sharing in my journey, the clock turned 11:11...can't make this stuff up.
Unlike most days, after waking up at 6:32 (6+3+2=11), I haven't really checked the clock since. Too busy writing bios and choosing publicity shots for my clients this morning. Believe it or not, I do more than observe coinciding numerical and astronomical patterns connected to #TwinFlames. I'm a CEO (still growing into that role...) and manage not only my own business and brand, but the careers of multiple entertainers, one of whom is in France right now for the Cannes Film Festival. And, I'm simultaneously writing my new #PopCultureProfessor™ book series, a new novel, as well as essays for this very blog. So, no, most days are not spent looking at the clock, but making calls, inquiries, sending queries, checking in with producers connected to my clients' projects, scouting #HauntedAmerica locations, booking promotional opportunities, managing multiple brand-oriented social media accounts...yeah, I'm kinda busy. Busy enough that I even forget to eat and drink. But I'm not so busy that I fail to recognize how time, and timing, matter.
My uncle died the day my #Twin and I stopped talking, which, not coincidentally, was also the same date we started talking about our daughter the year before. Unfortunately, my uncle died during a mission in preparation for the Battle of the Bulge. Like me, he was a polyglot and could speak at least five languages. The first thing his feet touched as a soldier was sand. White sand. The same white sand beach my #Twin and I saw in relation to March 18th, the day my uncle joined WWII.
My uncle's last act of humanity was saving another soldier during battle, carrying a man who had been wounded by enemy fire. The soldier had been hit during their retreat. My uncle had safely escaped, but when he saw a fellow soldier down, he ran back for him. It was in a forest near Dortmund, where I stayed during my trip, about a two-hour or so drive from the American Cemetery in Margraten. Today, a lovely Dutch family who lives on a farm close to the cemetery cares for my uncle's grave. When I visited in 2013, one of only two people in my family to do so in the last 70 years, the caretaker at the cemetery explained that my uncle was one of the first to be buried there; his marker was original and needed to be replaced. The grave also had no adopted family at the time. Last summer, I was contacted by a friend of the family who volunteered for the job through RebeccaHousel.com. By fall, we were exchanging emails. I'm behind on my replies, as usual. The family is a young couple with a beautiful little girl. They visit my uncle's grave frequently; their home is close enough to even hear the Bell at the cemetery ring each day.
My #Twin's father served in the Army as well; sadly, he died the year my #Twin and I connected. As did a good friend of mine, also an Army Veteran, who shared the same name and initials as my #Twin, and, who is the father of my nephew who shares not only my #Twin's name and initials, but his nickname as well. My late friend had also been stationed in Germany during his military service. So many connections...and yet, my #Twin and I are still 1,000 miles apart.
It burns today...in my chest. The frustration. My stomach has been hurting since last night. I have yet to eat anything today, and it's well past noon at this point. All I can do on my end is remain open, but the more time that passes between us, the harder that gets. I once told my #Twin not to contact me ever again. A month later, I took it back. But he's still afraid that if he calls me, I won't answer. To be completely honest, if he weren't my #Twin, I wouldn't. He's treated me very badly. But #TwinFames share unconditional divine love. If I were the author of my own story, we would find a way to reconnect without resentment, without fear, and begin a totally new journey. Not another false start, but a fresh one. Wipe the slate clean. Begin anew. Like I said, time and timing matter....
By the way, General Patton, whom my uncle served under, was an #1111, born on November 11th. He died on a date that was a mirror reflection as well, #1221, or December 21st. The number #1221 is a sign of evolution; it's a call to service. When you see #1221 on repeat, which I do (along with #1111, as well as combinations of "11"), it is a request from the Universe to aid in humanity's ascension, to help open doors for unconditional love. My daughter's official date of death is recorded as #1212, a variation of #1221. Yet another connection between me, my #Twin and my uncle. By no small coincidence, it's 1:01, another "11."
I'm convinced May 11th is also connected to my uncle somehow, maybe his birthdate, which no one seems to know...I'm working on it. His sister was my grandmother (my father's mother); she helped to raise me. She took me and my son in when I was a teen and homeless. She also cared for me during my first bout with brain cancer. Being gifted herself, she literally wished the guy who has now saved me twice from two different stalkers into existence. He is known to me now by the four-fours represented through his birthdate. My soul number happens to be a "4," as is my son's. When you take the time to do the math, there really are no coincidences.
Above all the other amazing things my grandmother was to me, she was my best friend. I miss her dearly. Interestingly, her birthday was exactly 11 days after her baby brother, my uncle, signed up for the Army. My #Twin and I were best friends after my grandmother passed away in 2009 (2+0+0+9=11). I've only had a few best friends in my lifetime, but distance always seems to come between us when I do. Must be my karma. But so is always finding what I need when I need it. Handy little gift. I highly recommend earning it yourself by giving of yourself whenever possible.
May your May 11th the best one yet. Think positive thoughts. Work from a place of positive energy. Don't let yourself feel hopeless or helpless. You are not alone. And, neither am I.
Just got a "yes" knock to that....
#TwinFlames #1111 Post-script: The clock turned 5:06 as I completed my edits on this essay: 5+0+6=11