(Tchaikovsky -The Seasons “June”. Sviatoslav Richter)
It was hard to know how to handle that experience. Did it mean she was always present? In the house -just as usual but in another sense -another dimension? Or did it mean some worm-hole had been created by our bond and loyalty…that she was far away, yes, but could come in a flash through a way of timelessness, place-less-ness when love called her?
I had no idea. I decided to talk to her. As there was no-one (alive any more) to observe my strange ways, I also decided to save her a treat as usual, after dinner. Talking to her, occasionally -seemed the right thing to do under such circumstances. I was grateful for the absence of humankind, for they would have judged, most harshly, a multiple-bereaved older woman talking to thin air…..
All that next day she remained near me. We walked, I laughed, I threw sticks into the apple trees. When I spoke to her, I felt her connect with me. Her silent heartfelt answer. When I lay in bed at night, a little warm glow of dog’s affection reached my Soul. Smiling, I closed my eyes.
The next morning she disappeared. As if she had never been.
“Did I do wrong? Should I have kept this a secret?”
For a week, I couldn’t grieve.
Day after day there was no contact with her, no sense of her presence. Another week went by -still nothing. I wondered if that was it -she had said her goodbye and was finally gone. There had been no recurrence of the out of body experience. I was unsure what to do; to try to make it happen again, or to let go, accept that had been a rare Grace, and leave it alone….
I began to sense brief “flashes” of her, lasting for only a split second, caught in the Soul’s peripheral vision. But when I recognized them, they flitted away like will o’ the wisps.
I confided in a friend. He gazed at me, fell silent, then said;
“Don’t go out looking for her.”
I didn’t even have to ask the question.
“Just don’t, that’s all. Let her come to you when she’s ready. Be patient.”
Don’t go out looking for her.
Maybe he’s right. Sometimes we are given a rare Grace. We capture the moment, hold a drop of Heaven in our hands for an instant. To be thankful is all we need to do.
But another morning came when I woke before dawn. For a while I lay still, wondering should I try to reach her again?
Then, decided, I got up. I would try. As the sun rose, I went back to lie still, letting my body relax until I had no more sense of it. Again the buzzing, humming sounds began. A thought ran through my mind:
She seems well, happy, free, under no duress. Can this harm her? Ought I to let her go completely? Just let her fly away to the Spirit-place far from here, far from me…..
My legs floated, arms floated. I remembered the reality-check to emphasize full consciousness. Then I saw the room, lit with morning threads of sun, heard noises beyond my door, saw glimpses of her moving out there. Through an inch-wide crack where the open door met the door-frame, I could see her, minding her own business, licking belly, licking feet, gently scratching her ears with a hind-foot. Her other foot tapped the floor occasionally in this morning ritual of a dog preparing for the day, waiting for my lie-in to end. Her body moved slightly, in and out of sight…..
But no sound came from my voice. I fought against it, but was mute. There was nothing I could do. My ethereal form returned so soon, there was not even chance to move towards her.
That night she returned, her little Soul glowing with a light of love. We sat together by the fire.
By morning she had said farewell again.
I am certain she will be back…..