Some Where
Just before going to bed last night, the little voice of gnosis said, "Leave your cell phone in the living room."
Because of my mother's terminal illness, I had been keeping the phone next to the bed for months, so when that little voice whispered its instruction, a strange sense of destiny came over me and a weight I had not realized I'd been carrying seemed to lift from my shoulders.
I went to bed around 11 p.m. PST and slept soundly until 5:25 in the morning. At that time, I was awakened by a presence I recognized to be my mother. Though I did not see her, I knew she was there, and through a telepathic channel, she gave a little laugh and said, "Well... I went somewhere." There was no sadness or fear, only a sense of amusement on her part.
"Do you know where?" I asked.
Again that familiar laugh. "It ain't here," she replied. Before I could say anything else, I felt her embrace me. "I love you." A brief pause, then... "Bye."
And then she was gone.
For a few minutes, I sat in the pre-dawn darkness, then got up and went out to the living room, where the answering machine was flashing frantically and my cell phone had recorded over half a dozen missed calls. I sat at my desk for a moment and smiled, remembering something my mother had said when I was just a little girl. 'When I die, I don't want nobody getting a phone call in the middle of the night. I'll still be dead in the morning.'
Upon talking to the nursing home, I learned that she had stopped breathing at 3:38 a.m. - a moment in time which has special significance in my own life due to an incident that happened now almost 12 years in the past. It is also significant that today would have been her husband's birthday as well.
There are no coincidences, only ironies which validate the nagual.
Long before the sun came up, I went out walking in the desert alone, watching the world coming back to life. Two mourning doves flew overhead. Cottontails stood like frozen silhouettes against the pale sand. The sky had turned a brilliant shade of fire.
"I went... somewhere."
Her words left me with a smile, a sense of mystery, and a feeling of peace. There is no better gift she could have given me.
Peaceful Dreams...