How it feels …

A heaved sigh of relief passed up along hys windpipe, dried hys throat and slipped over hys tongue like a mouthful of jello might, before reaching hys parched lips, compelling them to part and make way for the soft sound carried with care to be given willingly to the early afternoon sun.

The Paul Simon tune that had brought hys phone to life signaled news. Hy had no way of guessing if it was good or bad and the squirming mass of caterpillars in hys stomach screamed at hym to answer the incessantly noisy phone. Hy needed to know either way, did hy not?

One type of news would hoist high the weight of concrete that had pressed down upon hym for months now, the other would complete the task the concrete had begun and crush hym beyond repair. Hys hand trembled as hy reached for the phone and pressed the button to accept the call. Quietly, hy said hello and waited, felt the concrete lift off hym and heard it shatter into small fragments as the words entered hys ear, were processed by hys brain and filled hys eyes with tears of joy.

She, the beautiful Germanic woman who had come into hys life just over three years ago was out of surgery. She had made it. Hy listened to the voice on the other end of the phone while silently giving thanks to the power of prayer. For someone who was more spiritual than religious, hy had fallen into the habit of uttering prayers at all hours of the day and night. Hy searched for inner peace and strength in the smallest of places and coped, not as well as hy would have hoped, but hy had coped.

Hy could not visit her yet, she was in ICU for the rest of the day and possibly the next. A friend of hers had aptly phrased it as ‘being at the bottom of a hill and revving up speed before heading upwards’. In hys mind hy knew that the uphill journey would be long, not years but certainly weeks and maybe months. Strength and healing were the keys now and while hy could not heal, hy could offer strength.

That night hy slept as hy had not for several months. The sleep of babies some might say. No tossing or turning, no waking up wide-eyed and breathless from some nightmare seed planted in hys brain that affected hys whole body. At some point though hy dreamed, a rarity for hym and hy remembered it too, yet another rare occurrence.

In hys dream hy was sitting out on the balcony when all of a sudden a figure, androgynous in appearance was standing right in front of hym. The figure was surrounded by light, not the bright blinding sort that one associates with the sun yet warming and mellow, a calming affect that enveloped hym and made hym feel safe.

A hand reached out and firmly yet gently gripped hys shoulder and a voice unlike any hy had ever heard spoke not to hys ears, but to hys mind. It said, “I put her in your life to make it better, why would I take her away to make it worse?” This is not something I had thought about, but it was so true.

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