I have a hard time thinking of a title for my thought rambles. Robin, our dog, gave me this title when she was digging in the snow for buried stuff. With her ability to smell under the snow, she was able to unbury many things, toss them in the air and play with them. Sometimes eat them which I found disgusting. Needless to say, I’m trying to be more careful to clean up the yard after she does her business.
If I had written about buried treasure when I first thought of the idea, I would have written about the many times we excavate our memories, sometimes finding pleasant happenings but most often the remembrance unearths pain. I will delay that thought for another time.
Yesterday I was reminded of other buried treasure when my neighbor of more than 40 years passed over. She was 91 years young and her death was not unexpected. She had been in good health until the Fall of 2013 when her independence was taken away from her and her health began to decline. Death is always hard even when it is expected. I was grateful that they phoned and I was able to stop by before the funeral parlor removed her for cremation.
What to say to the family? Other than I’m so sorry for your loss. Thanks to my father, I have a different perspective on passing over. He died in 1995, 4 days before his 85th birthday. When he passed over, within three days he let me know he was fine. Maybe it was his birthday present to me. Since that time I have become gradually aware of the “help” I receive from the other side. When the son of a friend asked me to teach him how to become “aware” I knew I couldn’t. But I could tell my stories, and I did in “Journey With Me”. Yesterday I took two copies over to my neighbors family — one for her daughter, the other for her grandson. Will it help? Will they read it? Will my neighbor help them with their life? Will they recognize her? Those questions are not for me to answer.
The interesting part of my day didn’t end there. I needed to walk to the Post Office and took Robin with me. The sidewalks, still snow covered, were safe for me to travel. The sun was out but the temperature was still in the single digits. I walked further than I planned. Returning home, I spotted a green coat in a snow bank. From the distance I thought it was a child playing. A man got out of his car and helped the figure up, then watched as the person slowly walked down the street. A woman across the street was watching. As I approached the corner, I saw the person had fallen again. Luckily the woman crossed the street and helped the man up. He said he didn’t know what was wrong. I recognized him as a person who lived across the street from our house. My children had attended school with the family. The other woman assisted him to walk home. Because of Robin, I was handicapped. We tried to get help from his family. No one answered the door. The other woman didn’t have a cell phone – mine was at home. The man said he knew his phone number. When I crossed the street with Robin, my husband met me at the front door. I got my cell phone and returned. No one answered the phone when we called. We were uncomfortable leaving him alone. I walked to the rear of the house and when no one answered the pounding on the door, I called for an ambulance and stayed with them until help arrived.
When I thanked the woman for her assistance, I mentioned that she was younger than I. She didn’t think so. I had to laugh when she told me her age. She was younger than I by 10 years. I said, “I don’t know your religious belief but we had just been used by God to help another.”
I wanted to leave a message for the family, when I remembered that one of our neighbors was good friends with the family. Luckily they answered the door when I rang the bell.
Evidently my work is not done, and neither have all my stories been written.