Plans for the Future

It was an intangible experience when my oldest daughter Naomi, who left this world twenty years ago, came to me while I was resting to give me the encouraging message that my youngest daughter and only surviving child, Sarah, would recover from the coronavirus. 

Although I heard no words in my ear and did not see a doctor’s report, my deepest self knew what I was being told was as true as could be. Six days later Sarah texted me that she had recovered. This is the finest springtime gift I can imagine. 

A few days ago, I wore shorts and went outdoors barefoot for the first time since last autumn. One of my happiest delights is getting my hands in the earth and coming up with wriggling worms. Years ago, I traded one of my paintings for a barrel of worms that was delivered to my home so that I could have the best compost for my garden. 

The seedlings I put in the ground a month ago are coming up as plants. Here in the high desert of Santa Fe, the earth usually is rocky so it has to be amended. The worms make the best  compost from vegetable scraps we throw into a pit.

We have some flower pots with blooming plants that have only begun flourishing. Our lilac shrubs have begun perfuming the air at our back door.

The other incredible sight is seeing the seedlings of elm trees falling through the air. It can be like a snow storm—blanketing the earth. 

Nature always plans for the future.

Loving Light Presence

The beauty of springtime arrives here right on schedule while the world reels from the horrible corona virus pandemic. My wife Amy and I are sequestered at home in Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA, nestled high above sea level in the beautiful Sangre De Cristo mountains. We notice birds singing more often, buds on trees transform to delicate green leaves, flowers unfold their colorful petals and the world slowly unwrapping its winter cloak to breathe in the sun-filled air of renewal.

The worldwide pandemic of coronavirus recently became more personal for me when my 33 year old daughter Sarah fell ill while working with the nursing staff at a convalescent and rehab center in Albuquerque, New Mexico—about an hour drive south of Santa Fe. She had just taken the job. There were cases of covid-19 there and she worked in close proximity to them and others. Sarah has tested positive and is now battling the disease.

I don’t like the word disease. My older daughter Naomi died from cancer. She was diagnosed with terminal illness at the age of seventeen. She battled heroically for two years and passed away, suffocating when her lungs failed after cancer lodged there and she came down with pneumonia. So when I heard my beloved Sarah was “having trouble breathing” it alarmed me.

Yet, Sarah is strong, and she has been in crisis before. In fact, I believe it was the death of her sister and her own giving and sustaining nature that led her to be a healthcare worker.

Naomi, age 10, Sarah age 4

Since Naomi died, on occasion I have had “visitations” from her. Often it is when I am at rest in bed, very relaxed and in limbo between worlds. I can feel cat-like footsteps on the bed. I am not imagining the impressions. I also am aware of a higher consciousness present and the loving personality of Naomi.

Last night, just as sleep was arriving I felt the pressure of something moving around me. Instantly I knew spirit was with me and I ascertained it to be Naomi’s loving light presence. She came with a message. I felt her above me, face to face and the pressure on my chest. A message came first into my heart, then my consciousness—Sarah will be okay!