I was going to start writing again. I heard that my aunt Martha and others wanted to hear the rest of my adventures. But I didn’t get around to it. Now I get to write about a death instead. Sad times.
I went on this amazing women’s retreat up into the mountains with the women of my community group. Someone even helped pay my way which was an answer to prayer to say the least. When I heard about the retreat, I had no way of paying for it. By the time the deadline came around, I could pay half because of my painting. So off to the mountains I went. And into a cabin with 12 women, lots of food, and 15 bottles of wine. Yes, these are Christian women at a Christian retreat. Its amazing how few spats we had with lots of wine. We didn’t even finish all of it. Nor did we get drunk. Just happy and free to share our lives. A time of testimony, building up spiritual strength, snow, gorgeous vistas, and no cell phone coverage for most. Perfect.
So im driving home in the car with 4 other females and I start getting all the missed calls and notifications on my phone from the weekend. My aunt Nell called. Odd, she never calls me. And the usual suspects; dad, aka, etc. I wait till I’m alone to call anyone back. Call dad, and get the news that Martha had a stroke and everyone is at the hospital. She ok? No. right, I will be there in 15 minutes. And I was.
For those of you not familiar with my driving, know that it is very important to me. It is a joy, a tool, a buffer. I love driving. Something about going fast answers one of those unknown urges. Unknown till you find the missing piece. No, not just an adrenaline rush, much more than that. it’s a tool for getting places fast. Sometimes a lot depends on how fast you can get to someplace. I realize that it wont happen unless I make it happen. So I make it happen. Thankfully that hasn’t led to any crashes yet. and while I drive from A to B, I can think, plan, prepare. I can drive to the music and process amazing amounts of emotions as fast as I drive. Hence by the time I arrived at the hospital, I could squash most of my feelings and accept what was happening in such a way that I could be of help.
Help consisted of hugs. Touch is powerful, and a hug is the ultimate physical comfort one can give to another without the whole significant other thing. Many people say I give good hugs. So I give them to the best of my abilities. I know it works, because after giving out hundreds of hugs in a day, im drained. I think something actually goes from one to another when a hug occurs. not totally sure what, but something. And it seems to help.
Now I must describe 2 things that happened that day. one is the reason I switched to acceptance of Martha’s passing. I went in to see her and talk with her in the hospital. She didn’t move and I don’t know if she could hear me, but as I talked about the mountains and deer and hawks I had seen, I received a distinct picture. I am wary of calling it a vision, but it may have been. At any rate, I got the picture of Martha sitting on the doorway between life and death looking quite confuzzled. As if she was torn between going and staying for those who loved her. Not that I actually think she could have returned cuz of the severity of the stroke, but it doesn’t mean she wasn’t considering it. It was then I switched to telling her its ok to go, everyone here will manage without her. Maybe not well for a while, but we will follow soon enough. We are in the same good hands as we were when she was around and they aren’t hers.
The other strange thing that happened is related to the way I deal with crisis. I don’t till afterwards. And I don’t cry in front of others if I can at all help it. So Sunday night I’m exhausted from all the hug-giving and the overall stress of the situation. In the dark of the night I wake to hear a strange whimpering sound. Almost a keening, only broken. I strain my ears to find the origin of the sound, only to find it coming from my own throat. I lie in odd fascination, listening to this sound come from my own body. And fall asleep again after a while. Only to wake to day 3 of the hospital vigil, day 2 for me.
