10    The Power of Two Strands of Tinsel

This next story may be a bit difficult to read, given the nature of the abuse Dorothy endured. I have tried not to get too detailed or graphic. However, I think it is important to understand just how dark a place Dorothy was in and how, despite that, spirits can still bring tremendous comfort, even years after their passing, with a simple but poignant sign.

Dorothy was in an abusive marriage. It was unlike anything I had personally ever heard. Her husband abused her emotionally, physically, and financially. He cut her off from her friends and family. He would drag their crying daughter upstairs with him and refuse to let Dorothy come up to console her. He’d repeatedly threaten to take their child out of the country and to his native land. This went on for more than a decade. Dorothy had wanted out for a long time, but as those who have been in abusive relationships know, that is far easier said than done.

Growing up, long before she had ever met her husband, Dorothy had been very close to her paternal grandmother. Her grandma died of Alzheimer’s when Dorothy was seventeen, but she never left Dorothy’s mind and heart.

“I always talked to her after she died, always,” Dorothy said. “Once I was in that abusive relationship with my husband, talking to her was one way I could find a sliver of comfort and hope.”

Just prior to Christmas one year, when her daughter was four years old, Dorothy wanted to decorate their tree with her.

“My husband was angry with me, so he took our daughter upstairs and refused to let her come down to help me. As I started to decorate the tree myself, I came across my grandma’s antique ornaments that she had given me. There were five of them. I cried when I pulled them out of the box. I began to talk to my grandma out loud through the tears, telling her how much I missed her, how much Christmas reminded me of her, how much I wanted to hear from her, and how I really needed her help getting out of my marriage. It had been about ten years since she had died, but I never lost faith that she was still with me. I know I was throwing a lot at her at that moment, but I was desperate. The abuse was daily, and in many forms. As much as I wanted to just take my daughter and run away, I was terrified that he would hunt us down and kill us both.”

Dorothy displayed her grandma’s ornaments prominently in the front and center of the tree, but she was bothered by something that was missing — tinsel. Dorothy had never used it on her own tree before, but tinsel had been her grandma’s thing.

“It would take my grandma hours to decorate her tree every year because she would put so much tinsel on it, one strand at a time. She was very precise about where it was placed. One piece couldn’t cross over another. It couldn’t be clumped together. That precision is why she always had the most beautiful tree. I had been thinking the whole week prior that I needed to get some for my tree, and I had gone to a few stores looking for it, but they were all sold out.”

When Dorothy had made her tree look the best that a tinselless tree possibly could, and after her husband and daughter were both asleep, she went upstairs to bed. The next morning she woke up before sunrise, went downstairs, and turned on the tree’s lights. She noticed the lights reflecting off something shiny near one of the ornaments.

“I put my hand over my mouth; I was frozen from head to toe,” Dorothy said. “Lying over the top of one of the ornaments Grandma had given me were two strands of tinsel. They weren’t crossed or clumped. They were each resting vertically and perfectly straight over the ornament, not touching each other, just like she would have hung them.”

Dorothy had never had a single piece of tinsel in her house. Even if there had been a couple of remnants in the boxes that held her grandma’s ornaments, there certainly hadn’t been any on that ornament when she hung it the night before.

“Nobody in the house could have done it overnight,” said Dorothy. “Not only did we not have any, but my daughter was too short to reach that ornament, and there is no way my husband would have done it.”

Dorothy began that morning the way she had ended her previous evening — crying. But the tears now had new meaning.

“There was no question that my grandma was with me that previous night, that she had heard my pleas and recognized the pain I was going through. Maybe she had sent me signs in the past and I just didn’t notice them. But there was no missing or denying this one. She made certain of that.”

After Christmas, as she was taking down the tree, Dorothy carefully removed the two strands of tinsel and placed them in their own box.

“That tinsel was, is, and always will be my hope. I grew up with an aunt who was psychic and a mother who was Catholic. I was raised to pray, not just to God but to my deceased relatives. I have always found comfort in prayer, which is what I was doing that evening. But to physically see an answer to my prayer the next morning in the midst of everything horrible I was going through — all I could say was ‘Yes! Thank you, Grandma!’ ”

Life did not immediately get better for Dorothy, but that tinsel gave her enough hope at just the right time for her to work toward the peace she so desired and deserved.

“You become very isolated when you are going through such trauma,” she said. “That is why I turned to my grandma. She became my lifeline. She heard me, and I knew she was going to help me get out of this. She would become my rock through it all. It would take another six or seven years to get out, but I finally did. He is now my ex-husband. I have no doubt that my grandma helped save me from an abusive marriage.”