I have always loved the time 11:11. From memories as a kid, seeing 11:11 and making a wish. I don’t know who taught me, but today, as a 42-year-old man, I am so glad they did.
It is much deeper than just the time of day or night. Some say it is the time when the universe is listening to you. You are meant to manifest at this certain time. Others say 11:11 is a message to be optimistic about and realign your priorities in life as you wish for them in the universe. Some also say that is seen as an example of synchronicity.
The more I dug, the more fascinated I became. In numerology, the number 11 is considered a “master number.” Seeing 11:11 is something to feel optimistic about.
The wish that comes after seeing 11:11 goes back to the belief that you are amplifying your dreams, symbolizing and distinctively recognizing what you truly desire, so it may come to fruition.
I have no idea who taught me this as a little boy but again, I am so thankful. Ya see, lore is one thing. But experience is another. Something happened to us last month that will stay with me forever until I am gone.
We have had some earth-shaking things happen to us in the past couple of months. For the ones who do not know, my husband, Douglas, accepted a position at UR in Rochester in the emergency department. For the past couple of months, we have been on pins and needles with life-changing choices and decisions that will forever leave their mark on all of our lives.
OK, OK. Get on with it.
The week before we moved, I was in my bedroom packing all of our lives into boxes. Joined by the girls, Allie Mae looked over at the clock and said, oh Papa! The clock says, one, one, one, one! She was so excited about this. I said “Ohhh baby. It’s 11:11! We all need to make a wish!” Her eyes got big and she smiled. I said, Let’s talk about this later, right now we need to make that wish!
There, in this moment, all three of us closed our eyes and made our wishes, and then in the very same second my hat rack, WITH ALL OF MY HATS, fell from the wall. My beige hat, both of our wedding hats and ALL of the hats fell on the ground.
Honestly, the first reaction was fear from my girls. I had pumped the wish up with such excitement and then something physically in front of us happened with none of us touching it, shook all of us.
The skeptic aspect of me wanted to investigate. The timing was spot on. But, how? How the hell?
I walked over to the hat rack lying on the floor. I turned it around and the fishing line behind was snapped. Completely.
At 11:11. At the exact moment that I introduced my babies to the entire concept of this magical time. The hats that sat on this rack from throughout our lives were scattered onto the floor. AT 11:11 PM. My girls just looked at me with eyes as big as saucers. My own eyes were as big as saucers. They were scared at first. All of our minds were blown. All I could do was smile and cover my mouth with my hands.
What in the world just happened? WHAT IN THE WORLD JUST HAPPENED?
My beige hat, my winter grey hat, and both of our wedding hats, all fell to the floor the week before we all moved our lives from New Orleans to New York. I am still trying to wrap my mind around what happened. But at that moment, my girls needed to know that everything was okay. All I could do was tear up and say, “Babies, everything is so much better than OK.”
How could I possibly articulate what just happened at precisely 11:11?
Honestly, if it had been at any other time of day or night, I could have brushed it off. This seems too specific and filled with important details. Like at exactly 11:11 I was teaching my kids the importance of claiming what their heart truly desires and to wish on that exact thought at 11:11.
The feeling in the air that night was a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The excitement and smiles from the girls learning about this new concept, combined with my anxiety about moving from New Orleans. I guess it was the right atmosphere for something spectacular to happen. To me, this was spectacular. However, anyone who has read up on our story knows I lost my
kid brother when he was 17 years old.
To get more clarity into what happened, I sat down recently with New Orleans psychic medium, Cari Roy, to explain to me what she feels thinks happened. It blew my mind.
She felt like it was my brother. He was irritated we were leaving and how now the house is silent. He thinks what we have in New Orleans is a “perfect life.” He doesn’t understand why we left.
He did it out of love and mischievousness. And ANYONE who knew my brother KNOWS just how mischievous he was. He always kept all of us on our toes.
Now, I am left at peace with this entire situation. I feel lucky that we three got to experience such a wild and meaningful phenomenon.
I am left even more confident that he is with me. I know this with all of my heart.