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Tuesday, April 15, 2014

This is a story about a rose quartz.

My personal rose quartz.
I have a story to tell.

It's bittersweet.

It deals with the 2 most difficult things 
I've ever had to deal with-
my divorce in 2001 and
my father's death this year.

Through my profound grief in both of these situations,
I had my personal rose quartz
to carry me through my sadness. 

2001 was the year of my major spiritual development.

I got a divorce. 

It threw me into a spiral of self-discovery and spirituality.

My witchy-ness came out in full force.
I began studying all things wiccan related.

I was entranced with gemstones. 
The first stone I ever bought was a rose quartz.
I read that rose quartz is the "love" stone. 
It helps heal a broken heart.
My heart was shattered. 
So, what better stone to start with?

I carried the rose quartz with me every single day. 
I mean, every single day.
I held it when I cried. I held it when I slept. 
It was always in my hand, in my pocket, 
or next to where I was sitting.

Through the years, whenever I need some extra lovin', 
I would reach for my very own personal rose quartz.

It's totally mine. I've put all my energy into it.

So, when I got the news that my dad died this year 
I reached for my rose quartz.

I've never known such grief.

Divorce is hard. Really hard.

However, losing a parent sucks in ways I can't even explain.

I'm the lone wolf that moved away when I was 20. 
All of my family is in Southern Illinois.

So, Chris and I had a 7 hour drive ahead of us. We packed up and off to Metropolis, IL we went for dad's funeral. 

With my rose quartz tucked in the pocket 
of my Joan Jett hoodie, I had my security blanket.

I started off the driving. Not sure why I wanted to drive. Maybe I thought it would keep my mind off things, give me focus.

We were about 20-30 minutes outside of Asheville when I called Debbie, dad's wife. I wanted to let her know we were on the road and see what was going on.

She told me the visitation and the funeral may not happen until Friday/Saturday. I got off the phone and 
had a complete meltdown.

It was Monday. This was hard enough, but I'm going to have to delay the grieving process? My stomach churned. Uncontrollable tears. A thousand thoughts screamed through my head, "I can't be in Metropolis a whole week. Chris can't be in Metropolis a whole week. Am I losing money from not working? I don't want to work. I can't work. I don't want to ever go back. I can't believe my dad is gone. Is he really dead? This can't be happening."

Chris made me pull over so he could take the wheel. He proceeded to some random exit and pulled off to a church in the middle of nowhere so we could collect our thoughts 
and see what we were doing.

Our choices - keep going, get to Metropolis and be with the family, hope the arrangements are sooner
or
turn around, go back home, unpack, sit around and wait, pack again and go.

No way I was going to work. I'd rather grieve with family then grieve alone in North Carolina.

And then I have a major breakdown.

I got out of car, walked behind a building behind the church, fell on the ground, and sobbed my eyes out. 
My stomach was a mess and I started throwing up. 

I finally got myself together (as much as I could) and 
walked back to the car.

Chris and I decided to keep going to Metropolis.

 - with him driving of course.

Later I put my hands in my pockets,
and discovered my rose quartz was gone.

Gone. Poof. 

I told Chris.

He said I probably lost behind that church 
when I had my breakdown.

Crap.

My rose quartz gone. My security blanket gone.

I was bummed. 
Not as bummed as losing my dad obviously, but bummed.

I came to the conclusion it needed to move on. 
Someone else must need it.

However, I kept feeling like something was missing. 


A few weeks ago, I came across my first "witchy" journal from 2001. I read through it and found an 
entry where I bought that rose quartz.
I sighed. 
"Dammit, I can't believe I lost my shit and 
then I really lost my shit. My rose quartz is gone."

That was a Friday evening. The following Sunday morning I was in the kitchen getting my giant mug of coffee. Chris came in and we said our good mornings. He told me he loved me like 10 times and said he had something for me. He was so giddy and happy and loving, I couldn't figure out what it was. My first thought was "he got me a glue stick" - cause the other night I was saying I needed more glue sticks - but no - he was too giddy and smiley and adorable to be giving me a glue stick.

He left the kitchen to get whatever it was. When he came back he had something in his hands. He told me again that he loved me, really loved me, and he opened his hands.

There was my rose quartz.

My rose quartz. Mine.

What the holy hell? How? Huh? 

I was in shock.

Chris, "That's your rose quartz, baby."

Me, "I know - but how did it get here?"

Chris drives a cab. Yup, he's a cool cab driver dude. The night before, he had a ride way out somewhere - he said when he was heading back towards the interstate he started thinking his surroundings were looking awfully familiar. He realized he was passing that church. The church where we had pulled over. Now, it had been about 11 weeks since we were there, but Chris thought he would look. The universe put him there, so why not? It was about 1:00 am and fully dark. He grabbed his phone to use as a flashlight and went back behind the church looking in the grass. 

Can you believe it? He found my rose quartz. 

What an act of love.

So, I pretty much gushed all day holding my rose quartz tight and feeling all of the love permeate into my being.

Ahh, serendipity. 


Peace, Inspiration, & Love,
 ~Amy
 The Magick Muse

Amy Riddle, C.C., Holistic Alchemist and Manifestor of Dreams
is a life coach, crafter of sorts, writer, herbalist, reverend, and all out muse.
She holds a Bachelor of Science in Alternative Medicine with an emphasis on herbs. 
She is a certified professional life coach with the Life Coach Institute of Orange County. 
Amy craves to inspire others to be healthy and whole in body, mind, and spirit. 
She has an affinity for striped socks, stinging nettle, and all things faery.