Clouds

May 20, 2021

I used to think that people who passed away drifted above the clouds. That they were up there somewhere dancing and free and joyous. When I grew older and learned about the sky and the clouds and the moon and the stars that mindset changed. I knew the truth about what was up above. 

But today, nearly four years after my mother passed away, I boarded a flight for a girls trip. Something I haven’t done since becoming a wife and having children. I was nervous and anxious and a complete inner mess. We boarded the plane and in minutes we were soaring above the clouds and suddenly things felt different. I no longer felt stressed or anxious. I felt something unique, something deep in the pit of my heart. 

I felt her, my mother. I felt her presence and her love. I felt her peace and her comfort. 

I couldn’t stop staring in awe and amazement. The sky was beautiful. It was just as I had always envisioned as a kid, fluffy, fresh and intoxicating. I kept snapping pictures in wonderment of the view but also because of the way it was making me feel. Like she was here, with me. And it felt like a beautiful gift. These clouds felt like a blanket of my mother’s love, memory and presence. 

I’m always surprised when these moments happen, these “mom moments” as I call them, but the truth is I shouldn’t be. They happen often and usually when I need them the most. She’s showing up beautifully for me and I’m grateful. 

Today, in the midst of fierce anxiety and bold trepidation, the clouds reminded me that sometimes our childish thoughts and dreams aren’t too far-fetched. They might look different and they might hold different truths and realities, but they feel the same. 

They feel like love and light and beauty.

They feel like comfort and grace and gifts. 

They feel like her. 

Today I’m thankful for the reminder of the light that floats above all of the chaos down below. I’m thankful for this view and this perspective. 

The clouds gave me new encouragement today. From up here, things are different. I needed to feel and see this “different”. It led me to her again, in a faint and delicate way and anything that leads me to her is something I’ll treasure. 

xox, Chels

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Chelsea Ohlemiller

Chelsea Ohlemiller

A thirty-something wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.

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