Nyx

Hi Wmjsca (and everybody else), it's an interesting thing about loved ones revisiting us. I find we need to invite them to come but not go looking for them (does that make sense?). Send messages from your heart that you are open and then just observe things through new eyes. First little signs appear (almost as if they are 'testing' you, do you really want me to do this)and then those signs get bigger and stronger. Maybe they are concerned about scaring us. Philip came through my closest friends first. On the day after he died one of my dearest friends came to be with me (Philip would have known she would be here, she was here almost every day during the latter stages of his illness). As she arrived she drew me to her and with one arm around my shoulders she took my hand with her other hand and led me to my own music room. She sat me down, stroked my hair and said there is something I need to play for you. She went confidently to my numerous stacks of CD's and without hesitation drew one from the middle of a pile towards the back, popped it in the player and selected track 2 (at no time did she look at the cover of the CD). The room was filled with the sound of Sarah McLachlan singing 'Blackbird' (the Lennon and McCartney song). 'How did you know I had that song?' I asked (there is no way she could know all my CD's and where they are, I don't!). 'I didn't', she whispered, 'Philip was with me in the car coming over, he asked me to play it to you, it's from him, listen'. As as she said that Sarah's voice asked me to 'take these broken wings and learn to fly' - wow what a message. He has stopped visiting my friends now, within a few days he came direct to me and still does. About a year ago I decided to take singing lessons, the very first song I performed in public was 'Blackbird', Sarah's arrangement. My wings still feel a bit damaged but hopefully I am managing to fly, at least a little bit. Time doesn't heal, but it gives you hope. I wish you hope and comfort, hold onto the belief that one day, even if it's only from the table to the chair, you will fly and cherish the times when flying is just too difficult. If we hadn't loved we wouldn't hurt and all the hurt in the world is worth it for the love that was given us (and is still there). hugs to you all, Nyx xxxx

My partner passed away, here at home, nearly 4 years ago. I feel his presence a lot (still), it's sporadic, usually when something important is happening (anniversaries, important times for me). His dog Harry always alerts me, Harry has a special face and special whimper when Philip is around. Recently I sang at the Royal Brisbane Hospital with my choir (for Mental Health week). Philip had much of his treatment there, some of my most difficult moments were there. There is a special seat in an alcove where I used to sit (often in tears) when I needed space. We sang in that alcove, it was amazingly powerful. I felt Philip's presence strongly during the performance but he choose not to come out to dinner with us later (guess he didn't need to). I gain such comfort and inspiration from his visits. Just after he died, on the anniversary of us moving to the farm, a koala appeared and sat on a log with me for over 15 minutes one evening when I went down to check the alpacas. Koalas were significant animals for Philip. Koalas don't sit on logs in the evening looking at people. It was such an amazing 15 minutes. After he had spent some time with me the koala quietly walked away, he stopped regularly on his journey to a nearby gum tree to turn and look at me. I believe strongly that our loved ones return to connect with us, at first it was difficult and sad, I missed him and his visits just emphasised his absence, now, as time has passed, they are comforting, sometimes funny things happen. I have lots of stories, maybe we will share some more with each other as time goes on. Take comfort in the connection, I'm sure that is the intention of those who return. My hugs and blessings to you all - Nyx xxxx