Published Dec 22, 2007
The night Rick died, his ex called me in the middle of the night to tell me. But her voicemail was unintelligible; and I was already up. I’d been up for an hour, and I’d spent that whole time in terror. Because I had awoken in the dark, suddenly sure he was coming to get me.
Of course, the concept was preposterous. I’d done nothing to him, and Rick was nothing if not fair. But I was sure of it. The thought was fixed in my mind when my eyes opened, and an hour of applications of logic had failed to knock it away. I sat there, trying to make up excuses that would save my skin, none growing into anything convincing — and how could they, given that I had nothing to excuse?
Then the phone rang, and, half-hoping I’d been asleep, I jumped. It was Rick’s ex, and I couldn’t imagine wanting to speak to her at 3:30 am. So I went to the bathroom, and sat on the toilet, in the dull light that trickles through the frosted glass at night, for a while. I listened to her voicemail, which was incoherent with static, and suddenly stopped worrying. It just lifted. And, after a while, I went back to sleep.
Good, good. I’m glad you’re were able to process and go back to sleep.
But why, why were you afraid he was going to come get you? Is it because you’d helped him, you’d helped this troubled man in the past? And get you for what? to help him? Were you afraid he was going to take his anger out on you?
I don’t know. What could it have meant? Did I have some concern I hadn’t really been conscious of before? Or did I somehow feel his death and misinterpret that? It was a weird thing to feel, and a very strange time to feel it.
This morning when I woke up, I thought, you felt it. You felt him. His spirit visited your spirit.. The feelings you described was his spirit and essence indeed. You are a gentle, sweet, sensitive spirit. You are powerful, receptive and intuitive.