feralfae

Oh Butch, It is so very good to see you here, dear friend. Thank you for taking the time and energy to write to those of us who are watching and praying for you and your dear family. I know it was your darling Mary who held your heart while the doctors put you together, and Mary who, by her love, kept you with us. You have so much love to share, and now I think Mary's love flows through you out to those she loved as well. This is one of my own theories, but I find it seems to be so with Doug's spirit. I am smiling to see you here with us. I celebrate your endurance and your vision, and your beautiful courage. Yes, you have a lot of love left to flow through your heart and out into the world. I think that is why you are here. I am very happy to see you. *<twinkles>* fae

Oh, my! How true are your words! We dared anything, dreamed beautiful dreams, accomplished wonderful things, and stood in awe of all that the Creator had given us. We laughed at the fairies and elves of our imagination, picked flowers to share with each other, and smiled at each other from our hearts, in the midst of any adventure or joy. Yes, it is a loss of innocence, but sometimes it seems to me that it is the gaining of new forms of innocence and magic, as I acknowledge the shifts in energy, still feel his presence around me, and still feel his loving hand in many things that happen to bring joy and hope back into my path. Yes, part of the hardest to bear is not being able to see a place, or hear a song, or touch a leaf, and have him there to turn to, and smile at him and say, "remember all those years ago, when we loved and smiled here together?" And so I am learning to carry the memories, and to share them in spirit, but you are right, it is not the same. Thank you for your beautiful and insightful words. Peace to your heart, and comfort on your journey. *<twinkles>* feralfae

So true Anne, so very true. Thank you for that. fae

Dear Kay, I just mailed a card to you -- but not a get well card, so now I will say - Get Well soon, be well and feel better, and do as Anne and Marty said, I'm keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. fae

Thank you dear Kay for keeping us up to date. Butch, Allen, we are holding you in our hearts. Joining in the prayer, fae

Oh, wow! That is super wonderful! I am happy, happy for you! Congratulations! Another cute cuddly baby to hold and love. Happy heart time, for sure! fae

Prayers and much love to Butch. He has so much courage and love. I know we are all holding him in the Light. If you communicate with him, please let him know I am sending lots of *<fairy dust>* his way. fae

Dear Margaret, My heart aches for your pain. I am so sorry you have lost your beautiful husband of so many years. He is still with you, and I know you can feel his love around you. No matter how you feel today about those last days, it is the love that really matters, and I can tell you two had an abundance of love. My husband Doug was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer, which had already metastasized when it was discovered. The struggle was long and challenging, and in the end, he left. But the love is still here. Right now, please focus as much as you can on taking care of your body and spirit. I am glad you have emotionally supportive people around you. Please remember to stay hydrated, eat well, and go for walks or swims or some other form of activity tholepin your body move the emotions and stress. Focus on how to take care of yourself, how to be loving and compassionate with yourself, and give yourself all the love you can. Keep coming here, reading and sharing, while you make this grief journey. I am so glad you have found this place, but so very sorry for the reason you are here. Ask for hugs, spend time with loving people. When you are ready, you may want to join a local grief support group and see a grief counselor. Hold yourself close in your heart, as we are holding you. Blessings and Peace to your Heart, feralfae

Dear Butch, My heart goes out to you. I am glad you were able to be an inpatient for a while, although maybe a few more days might have helped more. When we are grieving so very deeply, sometimes we need to let others help us through our days. I used to ask my grief counselor every time if I was crazy, because things felt so mixed up, broken apart, unfamiliar, and out of balance. Nothing felt normal any more, for how could it? And for you, these losses have added up to the point where you needed to have a respite from trying to make it through the days by yourself. What you are feeling is intense grief, and your feelings are normal, even if life is not at all normal right now. I am glad you got some help, and I hope you will always come here to vent, to share, and to let us know how you are doing. I truly do feel that we are walking this grief journey together, so many of us here. We may come and go here around our healing fire that Marty keeps for us, but we are all making our way as best we can toward enough healing, and enough grief work, to be able to go on with more peace and a greater sense of wholeness again. It is not easy. We have come this far, and over time, even on days when we take the tiniest steps, or slip back a bit, we are having the courage to stay on this journey. I am glad you are here with us, sharing and staying open to the soft, healing energy that your heart is opening to accept. Sometimes it hurts a lot, as we slowly cherish, accept, and begin to feel our own way again, but no matter what, we are here with you on this journey, as you have been here for us. When we have had years and years of wonderful happiness, facing this much pain is not easy, but we do know it is a part of life, just as climbing mountains means we will need to make our way into the next valley at some time. I don't think I ever fully understood how life could have such incredible ups and downs until Doug left. We are all holding you in our hearts, and sending you loving, healing energy, as well as *<twinkles>* fae

Beautiful and so very true. Thank you Anne.

I was reading the posts here, thinking of how wonderful it is to be in touch, and asked Doug if he would reach out to me right now. He did, and he said. "Tell them we are here." I don't consider myself psychic, a medium, or even particularly sensitive to energetics, but these things keep happening. I have come to simply accept it and now consider it fairly "normal" for us to be in touch with those we love. It is comforting. *<twinkles>* feralfae

I highly recommend the video Marty posted, and to which she kindly linked above (thank you Marty!). I've already adopted "Tahiti" as my special password for talking about these communications and visits, as well as for NDEs. (We do tend to get comfortable in our "ruts" and tend to settle in where consensus often leads us. Doug and I used to talk about spirits building new paradigms of peace. ) So, the video is about shifting paradigms, or expanding paradigms. And Tahiti was an unknown paradigm to European culture for a long, long time. Yet Tahiti existed all that time, but was not a part of our western geography of awareness. *<twinkles>* fae

I sat in a restaurant yesterday while the oil on the Honda was being changed. I was nibbling on a poached egg and some fruit. My mind was a million miles away, off in another land and time when Doug was still here and he was just getting back from moose hunting up in the Arctic Circle where he did get a moose. He was in Alaska, I was in Montana, and we were both excited about the shifting of the seasons, the beauty of the leaves, and the crispness of the air. That same sense of the seasons shifting is in the air now, again. As I sat there yesterday, the restaurant music (which is usually a sort of background elevator music) switched and there was a song from the 60s. Then another. Then, as I raised a grape to my mouth, the last song Doug sang to me began to play. I did not cry, because I had asked for a message that things were all right; that he was all right, that all was well. I thanked him for the song, and then wondered if I was silly to lean so heavily on a simple song. I mean, any song could have played, right? But as I sat there, clear as a bell, I heard Doug's voice and laughter, and he was saying, "Look, I keep sending you these signs, and you keep asking for signs, and I don't know what could be a better sign that our song. I am here with you, babe." And I would probably not have written this if Marty had not posted the You Tube interview about NDEs and afterlife experiences in response to a query about mediums. Then, after listening to the interview, I remembered how on Doug's last day, I had to shut out the "noise" from the criminals and not carry it with me in to the room where Doug was by now struggling with his last breaths. I wanted to hold him and sing to him and help him to leave with joy and love. I was not going to let their vicious calls upset me when Doug needed me. And Doug was able to leave with a smile on his face, and "Oh! Wow!" were his last words as he watched the Angels who came for him. I am so very glad I was there to help him to leave. I am so glad I was there to share our love as he was leaving. I found out on Monday that some of my medical problems are related to the PTSS. But I am healing in and out, and I am going to be healthy and strong again. I know. This morning, I woke up remembering again those days of playing in the Arctic, and of hearing our song the last time I drove the Haul Road north of Fairbanks, which was after Doug had escaped. I am still traveling, and these days, I just watch for the next sign post and arrow. This is not an easy journey we are on, but the rewards of Faith and Love, and still having the love we shared, somehow make it all worth while. We carry on. *<twinkles>* fae

Marty, Thank you. What a beautiful message. I especially appreciated the metaphor about Tahiti. I hope everyone has the time to watch this excellent presentation. Thank you. feralfae

Oh, Anne, so glad you had such a wonderful time. Yes, time to rejuvenate now. *<twinkles>* fae

Amen, Marty. Harry, I hope that your heart finds peace and that your spirit is filled with the loving Light of all those you love who are loving you from another dimension. Peace and Light, fae

Dear Harry, Is there hospice or home nursing help available to assist you? Holding you in my thoughts and prayers, and in my heart. Peace to you, fae

Dear Butch, As you sit on the beach, letting your heart open and continue to heal in its own time, please know that every wave that washes the beach carries with it our love and healing energy for you. Know that I carry you and your family in my heart, and that I hold you in my prayers every morning and night. You are precious to us, Butch, and we are holding you close as you find your way on this painful and difficult healing journey of loss and grief. We are with you. Peace and Love to your heart, dear friend. *<twinkles>* fae

Dear Anne, I wish you beautiful happiness and wonderful moments with your family. I know you are going to have entirely too much fun! What a wonderful series of events and activities you have planned! Have fun, have fun! *<twinkles>* fae

Dear Harry, I hope all goes as well as it can, and that you find peace and healing and love around all of you. I'll be holding you in my heart and in prayer and in good thoughts as you enter this time of more changes and more challenges. Peace and Light around you, dear friend. fae

Today it has been 43 months since Doug left. Most days, I still have at least one "flash flood" as memories overwhelm me and the longing becomes strong and alive in my heart. I just miss him. He isn't here to share the first aspen leaves turning gold, the first frost in the high country, the calling of the migrating geese, swans, and cranes. He isn't here to share a plan for our winter adventures. But I am here, and doing my best to figure out this life these days. I am reading some books on successful retirement, taking to a couple of specialists (I see a new one this coming week, over in Missoula), clearing more things from the house, selling more books, and doing gentle exercises and walking to begin to rebuild, yet again, from the smoke and this latest round of whatever is going on. Things will be all right later, I think. I drove up to one of our favorite picnic places, but it was too chilly and wet to have a picnic, so I just watched a moose for a while, ate my salad in the car, did not hike anywhere, but had wonderful and vivid memories of the last time we were there, visiting with some people from Kodiak, Alaska and sharing canned salmon, elk jerky, crackers, some nice merlot, and later, some torte au chocolate Callebaut. That picnic day, as we were planning our move, we sat there in the sun, with the sound of the creek laughing its way down to join the Blackfoot River, making plans for building the house in Southeast Alaska. Just soaking up the sun, holding hands, smiling at each other, and thinking about the life ahead of us. I smile now to remember how peaceful, happy, content, and relaxed we were that day, with an "all clear" from the oncologists, and Doug feeling stronger and healthier. We were ready for another adventure. A few months later, Doug was given only weeks to live, and life moved in to another phase for both of us as we began to wring every precious drop of loving and life out of each of those days of his preparing to leave. At 43 months out, the pain of grief is a lot softer most of the time now. The tsunamis of tears and emptiness come with less force, and don't last as long. I am beginning to remember some of the things I used to do that made me happy and that were part of our playing. For as hard as we worked, life was pretty playful back then. I may take out the house plans and look at them again. It is a good house to build, smaller than this one–easier to maintain. Who knows? Doug left a lot of lists and things to do, and I am still sorting out and deciding what of those things I can do, and which I need to let go, at least for now. I know I am at least a couple of years away from full recovery and rebuilding my body from so much trauma. That is okay and I will take it slowly but steadily, as I have been doing. Recovery that took a month when I was 30 now seems to take six months. I am learning more patience and to give more attention to my body. I wish Doug were here, and I wish life felt whole and happy and playful again. Some of those wishes will come true. Some probably won't. But time is healing and softening the grief, and that is a lot for which I can be grateful. *<twinkles>* fae

Dear Harry, I find milestone days to be days of so many mixed emotions and epiphanies. This anniversary is another milestone to mark the love that goes on between you and Jane. Even as the 'failures" to be able to walk further than the car, to do all those things we used to do with our beloved, to chart a course of wellness and safety through the scourge of illness surround us, we still have our love. All these parts that fall away, that are diminished by illness, are each, in their own special way, a giving up, a loss, a letting go of a part of the life we shared with Jane, with Doug, with Jim, with George, with our beloved. I keep hoping more and more of life will come in and assert itself, will fill in more of the deep cracks in my broken heart, and give me more of a feeling of wholeness again. But what is happening as I watch the months, the years, the anniversaries, and the time go by is that the cracks are not being filled so much as softening. The sense of my life that is slowly easing in to fill up the chasms of deep loss is a different stuff. Things are not the same. Yet, as you say, the love is the same. And so, as you celebrate this anniversary, and feel the longing and memories that it brings, I hope you will be able to allow more of the softening to take place, more of the pain to leave, and more of life to enter and assert itself as parts of the new life that we must lead these days. I celebrate with you the loving marriage you and Jane have. I celebrate your sense of the sharing and the soulful intimacy of an open heart with another person, and the adventure of giving ourselves over to loving in such a way that there are no hidden places left, but only open and thankful hearts, joined together in reverence and wonder at the gift of our love. *<twinkles>* fae

Kay, I was just thinking today about how despondent I was when Doug left, and all that was going on. I know you had some of the same staggering emotional issues to deal with. I think we must learn again all over how to take care of ourselves, and who we are, and what we need to feel and hold in awareness about our bodies, so we can help with the healing. They now know that guided meditations for wellness have a significant positive influence on healing. Sometimes, when I am doing a guided meditation on healing, I am sure I can feel little tingles of energy healing cells and helping to create new, healthy cells as well. I think this life is a gift from G*d. My awareness through my spirit is another gift. We have the Earth to care for and for our playground. We have other life forms to observe and learn and teach. (I am still working on my Raven talk skills. They are just SO smart!) I think we celebrate life and share our Joy, our Ananda, when we are living in a body as healthy as we can make it. I am learning that it is going to take a couple of years for me to get back after all the surgeries and stuff. But, yes, we must, absolutely MUST do all we can to be our healthiest selves. I recognize how much I needed my healthy body, even if it is still weak, through this time of great stress from the smoke. The contrast in how I felt with and without the smoke has been remarkable. The smoke is moving in again a bit, but what a wonderful time it was to have a couple of clear days to feel so much better! I hope we get some more rain. I do hope we both get blue skies and gentle rains, alternating, for the next couple of months. This smoke is such a burden for those with respiratory issues already. I've been wearing a little face mask some of the time when I go outside. But for now, I am certainly enjoying the good air! I hope it stays very clear for you. And for me. fae

Thank you everyone for all the wonderful kind thoughts, the healing prayers, and the caring and love. It is clear air here today for the first time in a while. The smoke may be back, but oh!, it is wonderful to be able to take deep breaths, to not have stinging eyes and a sore throat, and to breathe the air without tasting it. Truly a gift! Still no definitive word on what the heck is going on, except that it is definitely not C. Probably not cirrhosis, either. There seems to be some consensus about a small abscess in the liver, and so another shot of strong anti-infection stuff, along with some other stuff to reduce the inflammation. While I don't like these shots in my behind, I like how much better I feel after 48 hours or so. For the first time in a while, my liver is snuggling back under my rib cage and the stomach ache is gone. I am listening to a lot of guided meditation, eating very carefully. Kay, I think each of us who is having medical issues is no doubt spending a great deal of time doing research, so no one thinks you are the least bit crazy. Doctors don't seem to have time to tell us much these days, so we must, absolutely must, become our own best personal physician and health advocate. Good for you. I would simply like to have a break from all the medical adventures of the last three years, and to have my body able to rest and heal, without any more challenges. I am told it can take up to five years to recover from multiple major surgeries and all the trauma, so I guess I will work more on patience. We are all learning a lot about ourselves: about our ability to survive, to make decisions about our lives and health, how to better care for our bodies and emotional well-being, and how to build new networks of support and caring. What a challenging and strengthening process we have undertaken! I am told to begin from today and give myself three months to begin to feel stronger and healthier, because this has been a significant setback. We all know about those, and about how many different ways those challenges can manifest. We have a lot of years left, so it is good that we are working to regain good health and to grow stronger. We will prevail! *<twinkles>* fae

I'm in bed for the day. The smoke is giving me a tummy ache, the doctors are arguing (really!) about my present diagnosis, whilst knowing it is not cancer, thank goodness! I am on clear liquids, so indulging in lots of organic chicken broth and clear cranberry juice (within reason) as well as herbal tea and jello. I am letting my digestive system rest a few days, and then we will see how things are. The pain is not as bad today. Pain meds are not good for my liver, so I am avoiding them and meditating. I also have many books to read. A friend in Michigan -- climber and artist -- called yesterday to tell me she had a dream about Doug, and had a message for me. (This is one of the main ways Doug communicates, because he knows I would probably be all objective and dismiss any dream I have myself. So he sends messages through others, smart guy.) The message was "rest, let everyone take care of you. Be patient and heal slowly and well. I'm here watching over you." So, okay, it is back to clear liquids and rest. And having had my lovely lunch of chicken broth, I am going to take another nap while I listen to Vivaldi. Love to each of you, and of course many flingings of *<twinkles>* fae