We often look for signs from the Universe in grand, sweeping gestures. These might be a sudden, extremely intense rainbow, a squirrel approaching you in the wild, or a moment of profound clarity when things align remarkably. But lately, I’ve realized that the unseen world has a magnificent, laugh-out-loud sense of humor. Case in point: a spirit, some grocery store tape that was misplaced, and a journey from the car dashboard to somewhere completely different. It turns out joy doesn’t always knock politely; sometimes it leaves fruit tape as an installation to remind us to lighten up!
How many of you have children that do strange things? Does it matter their age? Don’t they do strange things at all ages? My kid’s dad used to say they lived like apes in the jungle. “Eat a banana and throw the peel on the ground.” Now I could say, eat a banana and stick the tape to the car! Eat a granola bar and throw the wrapper on the ground, but in this situation, it wouldn’t apply because the son who did this prank wasn’t one who tended to throw garbage on the ground. But he did like jokes and pranks, and this fits the bill.
How old do you think these kids who do throw stuff on the ground are? Ten? They’re 19 and 21… And the deceased one died at age 30.
But this time it wasn’t my living children. It was my deceased son with the zany sense of humor.
I’d taken my daughter to the grocery store. She had different tastes than her brother and me. She picked up a few items, including bananas. I kept telling her I wanted to buy organic, and her rebuttal was, “What’s the point? I’m going to get conventional from college.”
The bananas sat right up front, and while I was driving, she ripped that tape off, stuck it to the dashboard, and had a banana. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she had stuck it to the car. I told her to take it off when we parked, but I forgot to remind her when we got home, and I forgot to make sure it happened.
Later, I thought about the tape in the car and knew it would be a challenge getting her to go back and get it out, as kids often are challenging, no matter the age. She was doing whatever girls do, maybe sending audio messages to her friends at the University.
I was meditating in my room. This was an extensive process, lasting an hour. I had learned to love this quiet time when my kids were not allowed to bother me, when the phone went on “Do not disturb”, and I had an opportunity to become deeply relaxed.
When I got up from my meditation and walked out of my room, I saw the banana tape stuck to the wall by the linen cupboard. I stood there, staring at the tape, knowing it had been in the car.
“G——? Did you bring the banana tape in from the car?”
“No. Why?” She asked.
“Come see.”
She got up off the couch and came down the hall. She looked at the tape, hanging from the wall. “Weird.”
“You know that was in the car, right?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“And what do you make of it?” I asked again.
“Weird. Just weird.”
She’s extremely resistant to acknowledging anything spiritual might be happening, even though I knew it was my son, my son who died 11 years ago in 2015, just 30 years after his birth, shattering my heart, fracturing my reality.
In the years since, he has played numerous tricks on me. My $500 2026 Toyota Prius key is missing. I know he dematerialized it because I know exactly where I left it. I left it in the square dish between the seats, in front of the cup holders. When I went back to get it, it was gone.
I’m irritated at him because it’s been gone for 6 weeks, and it’s pretty important. He keeps saying he’ll give it back soon, but he hasn’t yet. I’m trying to live without it because I don’t want to spend $500 to replace it. I think he always gives things back, but he’s not always on my timeline, and I’m concerned something will happen to my current key, and then I’ll have no key at all.
This happened once already. He told me that he would return a key instantly if that happened, which nearly occurred. He returned the main key within 3 hours. It had disappeared from a bag I had attached it to. I looked for it, and it was no longer attached. When I went into my daughter’s room later, it was on the floor at the foot of her bed on top of some clothing she had left there. If she had used them, she could have put them in her jeans pocket, but she wasn’t driving, and I always attach the keys to a bag or put them in my coat pocket. They were attached with a carabiner, so they couldn’t detach themselves.
No matter how careful I was, my spare key was gone. He almost always gives things back, so I’m inclined to wait. The car company said they can tow my car if necessary, so maybe I’ll take that risk.
The takeaway, which I hope you can come to, is how funny and miraculous this is. With the banana tape, something can disappear and reappear elsewhere, in a place that makes it clear I didn’t move it. The fact that these things are even possible is miraculous; that they happen in this manner is hilarious. When they do something supernatural and uproarious, it’s a great reminder that they’re there for us, supporting us through the hard times. These experiences lift my mood, not the lost key, but the banana tape. And I have had lots of these experiences that you can read about in older blogs.
I hope you’ll share your similar experiences here: https://ericalhernandez.com/contact-erica/ I would love to read your stories too!
#GoodVibesOnly #DailyInspiration #ChooseJoy #WhimsicalMoments #UniverseHasYourBack