Mountain Angel

The wide open Powerline trail along the base of Grouse Mountain is a favourite of mine.  While walking in the sunshine with my husband there this morning, I made a startling connection.  Last Sunday morning, he and I had walked along this same popular trail.  That day, we had ventured a little further than usual, and then, my husband suggested we return to the car via a narrow, less travelled route through the forest, one we had never taken.  Since we were without any safety provisions, I replied I wasn't interested in taking the chance of getting lost without any gear.  I then announced, "That's all we need is for Tim Jones to have to come and find us." Tim Jones, North Shore Search and Rescue leader, as well as high school classmate of ours.  Well, we turned around and headed back along the main trail.  Later, we found out that Tim had died that evening while walking down the trail of a neighbouring mountain.  Within hours of me pronouncing those words, ones I had never before spoken, Tim, a hero in the truest sense of the word, was gone.  Uncanny.  RIP Tim, our mountain angel.

Gift from Spirit

I have just finished reading Proof of Heaven, a neurosurgeon's personal account of his near-death experience (NDE) and journey into the afterlife.  As he himself states, this man of science was the perfect individual to experience becoming deathly ill, falling into a week-long coma, then miraculously recovering to tell his story.  He gives scientific credibility to what many of us already know to be true - that after shedding our bodies, we continue to exist in pure spirit form.
As I reflect on his story, an idea comes to mind.  Since most of us have not had a NDE to draw on, let us consider this scenario instead. Imagine your spirit as a separate being existing completely outside of your body, conducting itself in the invisible realm, just as it will when you die.  Filled with love, it looks over at you living this life here on earth.  What one piece of advise would your spirit gift to you today?

Another Grave to Tend

This week, I was informed via snail mail from Germany, that an uncle of mine had passed two days before Christmas.  Sadly, he had smoked himself to death.  He and I were not very close.  Outside my handful of visits there, we had little contact.  Through my aunt's annual Christmas cards, I received updates on their lives.  And even though they were well off, it is likely that she would have considered it an unnecessary extravagance to give me the news of his passing via a long distance call.  And computers are not part of her world.  This aunt, now in her mid-seventies, is no stranger to grief.  She was a four-year-old child when her father died. As a young mother, she had buried her baby boy within days of his birth.  Some years later, her mother passed.  Then, nearly twelve years ago, she experienced the loss of her only sibling, my mother.  Now, with her only child living a fair distance away, and without any friends to speak of, she will understandably feel very alone. I hope she finds comfort in her religious beliefs, as well as support from her church.  And, as she continues taking her daily stroll to the cemetery across the street, to tend yet another grave, I hope she feels the presence of her God walking with her.

Loving Message Received

While lying on a mat, stretching out after boot camp this morning, I considered my next stop - visiting Boal Memorial, to place flowers and a balloon in honour of Michael's birthday.  Gazing at the ceiling, I was drawn to one of the pot lights mounted up there.  As I continued staring at it, I felt my connection with the bright light building.  I sensed the strong beam that existed between the light fixture and I.  Soon, the energy filled my entire being.  Underlying that sensation was the awareness that my son was using this moment to show me that our energetic connection remains unbroken.  Such a loving message received on a sweat-stained gym floor.

Uncanny Connection

New Year's Day ... what a wonderful start to the year.  My husband and I made the leisurely hour's drive to Squamish to view the multitude of eagles wintering there.  To be in the presence of these majestic beings is always awe-inspiring.  During our riverside walk, we witnessed dozens of eagles soaring, preening, squawking, and feasting.  Upon our return to the car, I took a chance and made an impromptu call to an old friend. It had been over a decade since we had last spoken, having lost touch after his divorce and subsequent move to another province. I had heard that he was remarried and now living here.  Well, he generously invited us over and ten minutes later, we were in his home.  Our relationship quickly picked up where it had left off all those years ago.  His wife was very welcoming and easy to talk to.  After a short time, I realized that she and I have many shared interests, including some of the same obscure book titles on our shelves. During the course of the afternoon, our friend revealed that his wife had also lost a son due to accidental death.  He too, twenty-five years old.  Uncanny that this woman and I also share the experience of dealing with this particular life-changing event.  So glad I made the call.  So glad they were home.  So glad to have renewed one friendship and opened the door to the beginning of another.