Titanic: The One That Got Away

Turns out, I was the one on the door

Pictured above, Andrea Solanki, in her healing studio

I have a friend, an incredibly gifted energy healer, named Andrea. I’ve been seeing her on and off for the past few months. Every time I see her, Jeremy (my late husband), comes through with messages. Every time, I feel a shift. A tiny sliver of light. You could say she’s my version of synagogue. Or church. It’s spiritual.

I don’t know what you believe. Maybe you think this stuff is woo-woo. Maybe not. But here’s my take: We don’t really go anywhere when we die. We just… shift dimensions. Another energy field, a new frequency. We’re all together, all the time. Just vibrating at different levels.

Some people, I think, vibrate so low, they fade out of reach. Others shine bright, you can still feel them in the room. I know this raises complicated questions. Like… where’s Saddam Hussein? (Fun, right?) You might say, “Rosi, if you believe everyone’s still here, you’re telling me Saddam’s among us?” I mean… technically? Maybe? But I also think there are layers. Levels. Filters. Maybe you only tune into the people you’re meant to hear. The ones who vibrate at your same frequency. I don’t know. I think about this shit too much. I’ve got a whole army in the other dimension.

So there I was. On Andrea’s table, covered in crystals, listening to the sound of my blood in my ears. You can feel your skin vibrate when she works. And then, he was there. Jeremy. Coming through again, with his casual wisdom.

I won’t share everything we spoke about (some things are just for me). But one thing he said, channeled through Andrea, really got me.

She said, “He’s showing me the Titanic. Sinking.”

And I laughed. I said, “Is that meant to be me?” Because honestly? That’s how my life has felt this last year or so.

But she said, “No. He’s saying you’re the one that got away. You’re the one in the lifeboat.”

I went silent. Tears slipped under the mask covering my eyes. I tried to let it sink in.

The intrusive little dark comedian that’s taken up residence in my brain also thought, don’t you mean I’m the one on the door never letting go? and you’re….Jack? 

But I know what he was saying: I survived the wreckage. Fifteen months. Four losses. A body and mind that barely feels like my own anymore. And yet… I’m still here.

I’ve been walking around feeling like the curse. The one left behind. The one who carries the whole story like a sack of bricks on her back.

But what if that’s not the truth? What if there’s a version of this life where I see myself differently? Not as the one stranded at sea, but as the one who made it to the lifeboat?

Could I be the missing the big picture? What if I’m not the curse…. but the survivor who gets to tell the tale?

Grief is a fucked-up drug. It shows you beauty and pain in equal measure.
One minute, I’m riding a wave of relief, squinting toward some kind of bigger picture.
The next, I spiral: Why am I even overthinking this? Nothing matters.

And at this point, the other side is just a group chat I keep getting left out of, but I’m still getting the notifications. I want to be present, and enjoy the now. I want to think everything matters. I know that’s what they want for me too, too. But damn, I’m tired.

Because here’s the thing about being the one that got away, the so-called survivor: You still have to paddle yourself to shore.

x

If you want to go see Andrea for yourself or read more about what she does you can check her website out here : https://www.andreasolankienergyhealer.com I could not recommend going to see her more. She is a true healer.