Jim Almost Died: A Waking Dream

Here's a waking dream for you.  Perhaps you've had the experience of shepherding a loved one through a close brush with death; that's the card I drew from luck's deck this week.

How blessed am I to have a family support system that includes a Functional Med doctor for a brother? How blessed am I to live a block and a half from a small, clean and professionally staffed hospital?  How blessed am I to have loving friends who care for Jim and went out of their way to support us through this crisis?  My neighbor, Lou, mowed the lawn on Sunday; it was music to Jim's ears.

A brush with death is one thing, a loved one's brush with death is another.  I've been in a state of bliss that Jim didn't have to cross over at the moment, then this synchronicity yesterday:

I deposited Jim safely at home from the hospital and took off to do errands, like food shopping for his post-op diet.  I'm leaving Trader Joe's, walking towards my parked car in the lot when I notice a tall, thin blonde woman is walking practically lock step with me. She's mumbling about how she can't find her car, "I absolutely am coming down with Alzheimer's; oh, where's the car."  I ask if she has a remote that beeps the car shut, a tactic I've resorted to on occasion.  "No",  then she points to a big black jeep next to my small black VW and says, "there it is at last".

Before she gets in, she turns to me and says; "You see, my husband very recently died suddenly."  I was stunned.  I said, "My husband very recently almost died suddenly," but she didn't hear me and I didn't pursue it.  She so obviously wanted to tell me about her experience that I let her.  I listened and comforted for a little while, then she got in her car and I got in mine.  All the way home I feel I'm living in this waking dream, my husband almost died, but he didn't.

It's not the dying that's the problem.  If you've ever read my posts on death and the healing dreaming can bring those left behind in the physical, you'll know that I think death is nothing to fear, especially if you've lived with as much love in your heart as possible.  (If you're a mean jerk, I presume your habitat after death will be a community of fools like yourself.  I think we gravitate towards what and who we love, so the stronger, broader and more courageous our love  is now, the more exciting the crossing into the non-physical dimensions of our spiritual/energy existence.)  Jim is a kind and caring person; this is his second near death experience since I've known him, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't fear death either.

Separation? "Ah, there's the rub." How much better for me that he's here with me!  The stark contrast to my widow shadow woman in my waking dream at TJ's just fuels my hallelujah!  This synchronicity confirmed for me that I'm never alone, one way or the other, one path or the other; I can depend on help to be there for me. I feel luckier than she because my partner didn't die, but there's help for her in her love for him, and his for her; as she told me,  "He would want me to take care of myself."

Death is a very strange teacher.