LexTalk

Tonight, I pulled a card from my Angel Dreams Oracle Deck before bed, something I often do when I need a little guidance or peace. The card I pulled was “Bathroom.” At first, it made me smile—how could a bathroom be spiritual? But the message was clear: release, cleanse, let go. And almost immediately after, I felt her. My mama.

I decided to pull one more card, and it confirmed what I already knew in my heart—Passed Over Loved Ones. She was with me.

My mama and I were incredibly close. I used to greet her with a soft, “Hi Mama,” and she always called me her “little meme” or “memer.” It’s where my email handle came from. It’s where so many pieces of me still live.

Lighthouses always remind me of her. Strong, steady, guiding lights standing tall through the darkest storms. We vacationed in Daytona Beach growing up, and when she passed, we scattered her ashes into the ocean near Juno Beach, Florida—our peaceful goodbye. That part of the world still feels like her.

Tonight, I wrote her a letter—a spiritual release wrapped in love and longing. I added it to a peaceful image of a lighthouse on a dreamy shoreline, just the way I imagine her watching over me.

Here’s what I wrote:

Hi Mama,

I felt you tonight. Thank you for showing up so gently, like you always did—comforting me in your quiet, loving way. The card I pulled reminded me to release, to cleanse, to let go… and then you came through. I know it was you. You always know when I need you.

Sometimes I still feel like your little meme, lost without you. Tonight, I’m trying to let some of this pain go—not to forget you, never that—but to make space for the peace you’d want me to feel. I know you’d say, “Take care of yourself.” So I’m trying, Mama.

I miss your voice, your hugs, your soft strength. Lighthouses, butterflies, the ocean—they all carry pieces of you now. And when I see them, I feel like you’re whispering, “I’m right here.”

We scattered your ashes in the same ocean that keeps calling me back—Juno Beach, our place. I hope you felt the love in every wave that day. I hope you still do.

Come visit me in my dreams tonight, Mama. Let’s talk. Laugh. Be us again. I love you more than words could ever hold.

Your little meme forever,

Lex

I’m sharing this because maybe someone else out there needs a reminder that our loved ones never truly leave us. Sometimes they show up in the cards we pull. In the ocean breeze. In the glow of a distant lighthouse. They come through when we’re still enough to listen.

If you’ve lost someone and feel that quiet presence nudging at your heart, know that it’s real. Let yourself feel it. Let yourself speak to them. They’re closer than we think.

Until next time—hold close, let go, and trust the signs.

Love,

Lex