Blue Ladder

In January of 2022, my 20-year-old son, Eli had been dead for 5 ½ months.  My therapist was talking about signs, and how the energy of the dead lives on in mysterious ways and that I should be open to the idea that Eli may be out there and trying to communicate with me.

Since Eli died, many people have offered their own experiences about signs they’ve received from their dead loved ones and how comforting it was for them. With each interaction, I was amazed and jealous that they had these experiences, while inwardly thinking, “Bullshit. My son is dead. His ashes are in a box in his bedroom, and I’ll never see him again.This is just a coping mechanism to help us grieving parents get through our day without jumping off a bridge.”

I said the same thing to my therapist.

She suggested I give it a try and pick a random object that would serve as my sign that Eli was there, wherever there was. It could be anything and the more obscure, the better. 

I went with a ladder. I chose this only because earlier in our session, I was talking about how I spent the last 50 years not walking under ladders to avoid bad luck. But earlier that week, I saw a ladder and decided to walk under it, because Eli’s dead. My therapist suggested we make it blue, which wasn’t surprising considering who she was talking to.  From that day on, the blue ladder stayed in the back of my mind, and I admit to being more aware of ladders than ever before. (FYI, silver ladders seem to be most common.)

Around this time, our beloved dog died (yes, our 11-year-old dog died 5 months after our son died). We got a new dog. A puppy named Archie. We still don’t have Eli. 

Archie is a very social dog and each day, I would take him on multiple walks on Solano Avenue, a busy street in our Berkeley neighborhood that is home to coffee shops, restaurants, and lots of people.  Archie loves the walk. I don’t. I’m not interested in seeing people living their normal lives. And I don’t want to be seen. And based on personal experience, those same people are working just as hard to avoid seeing me as well. Because, I now represent every parents biggest fear. Who wants to run into that on the way to get coffee in the morning?

To keep our dog happy, I push through on Solano Avenue, but rather than walk the entire block, I cut through an alleyway off the main street. Each time I enter the alley, I get sad and cry. The alley doesn’t have much significance, and I’m not sure why it bring tears. I do have a memory of Eli and his younger brother, Jesse in the alley lifting each other up to climb on the roof, but that’s it. Otherwise, it was always just a shortcut back to our house. Now, it’s a place where I escape normal life and feel sad while walking our dog.

The first week in August, Eli had been gone for a year and 3 weeks and it had been 8 months since I chose a yet-to-be-seen blue ladder. I took Archie on our daily walk, keeping my head down to avoid eye contact. As I turned the corner into the alley, the sadness hit, like it always does. Only this time, it felt more intense, and I was sobbing. At that point, I turned to the right and for the first time, noticed a smaller alleyway behind an iron gate. I peeked through the gate and saw two large industrial trash bins. And a blue ladder.

I began crying uncontrollably, and was confused, and couldn’t believe it and I’m thinking this is ridiculous and I’m also hoping that it’s Eli and I’m calling his name and I’m angry and I’m sad and I don’t want a blue ladder I want Eli and I want my old life and I don’t want this dog or this alley, but I see a blue ladder, so now what?

I read somewhere that the world is sacred and mysterious, and there are entryways everywhere and they take endless forms. You just have to notice them. I also read that to get the best out of your emotions and yourself, feel first. Then think. Talk and act last.

Five straight days after seeing it for the first time, I walked Archie up Solano, cut into the alley, stopped to look at the blue ladder, and tried to feel Eli. I cried. And I tried really hard to feel, and not think about that fact that it was just a blue ladder. It was difficult.

Then, on the sixth day, the blue ladder was gone. Just like that. Every day I looked behind the gate, hoping I’d see it again, but it wasn’t coming back. It was just a blue ladder.

A week later, I was walking through the alley with Archie, and I saw something that was never there before:

In that moment, I didn’t cry. I wasn’t sad. I didn’t think. I just felt. It’s still there and I see it every day and I lean up against him and I talk to him and I’m sad and I cry, and I miss our life and I’m hopeful and it gives me comfort and maybe it’s an entryway to him and maybe it’s just graffiti on a wall, I don’t care. 

I feel him and I’ll take it.

October, 2022