It’s 2 am……..I cannot sleep, I thought I had escaped a winter cold, but alas, it has visited me. So what does a writer do when she cannot sleep. She writes, it’s usually these middle of the night writings that are the most important to me. They say the soul speaks to you around 3 am…..tonight, mine chatted a bit early.
In several days, March 11th to be precise, it will be my dear friend JBee’s birthday. I can’t gift her a present or mail her a card; she crossed into spirit a few years ago. She had ALS and just thinking of her suffering makes my runny nose and eyes a trivial point of discussion.
JBee and I didn’t have the good fortune of growing up together…..we were old friends in the sense of souls…..We squeezed a deep friendship into years, not decades.
When we first met, JBee was a bit scared of me…..not unusual, a lot of people are. Then, she took a leap of faith, feeling the same connection I had felt and we became friends. I didn’t share much mediumship information with her in the beginning. Then, her father and mother crossed. I think the things I was able to tell her comforted, not frightened her. I told her that her dad was greeted by an old friend from the service……Harold was his name. JBee looked surprised, after all, this wasn’t pulling a J or M out of the air, I actually told her his name, and she remembered him. After her mother crossed, I mentioned always seeing the shadow of a brother in every picture she posted on Facebook. She had a brother, he died as a baby. I told her he was now a tall, grown man and he was waiting for her mother. I hadn’t known, I don’t think many people did.
I lied to myself a long time about JBee’s diagnosis. I thought it would take time; we always think there is a lot of time. Then, at our last visit, she handed me a tote bag with an apron she had hand sewn inside. The look that passed from her eyes into mine spoke as many words as this page. She was giving it to me for remembrance.
JBee, Janet, her given name (I called her JBee because she had just undertaken the adventure of raising her own bee hives)…..used to come around a lot more. Now she doesn’t as often. That is the way it should be; it tells me she is happy where she is. There aren’t many people I wish to see waiting at the tunnel light or bridge for me; my heart’s wish is for the many, many animals to crowd on those stairs……..But Janet, I hope you squeeze in between them 🙂
JBee loved John Denver….her memorial funeral cards showed an eagle on the front. Somewhere, she is soaring over rocky cathedrals…….maybe looking down every so often on her friend. Funny, I had a bad cold the day of her funeral service….now here I sit, with memories in the quiet, early morning.
I don’t just remember you on your birthday…….I remember you always …….