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| Professional Photography by Willene Johnson |
At fifty-four, soon after my second husband died, I experienced this sequence. I had a thought of how I looked to him from "up there." I imagined another spirit telling him his wife was missing him and Stephen replying, "Look at my wife! She’s showing me that she really believed in me." Stephen had written a song, Down By The Pond, with these words: "Bodies come, bodies go, I will live forever." When my sadness overwhelmed me, I’d cry hard—sometimes dropping to my knees—but I’d say, "God, I know this is best for Stephen, and I know this is best for me. There’s going to be a new river in the universe. I’m just not used to this yet, but I will be." Each time, a cloak of pale blue light settled over me with the presence of peace.
Our Gainesville apartment was near Ring Park. I began walking there three times a day to get away from home and feel protected by the tall trees shading lower palmettos. The Hogtown Creek ran through it, with a boardwalk.
As Stephen was a singer/songwriter, I was used to listening to his music at home, in the car—often being sung to. Now he was gone. One day in the park, I stopped to listen to a bird’s song. Suddenly, I realized I was being sung to—not by Stephen but by the bird. I looked back up and said, "You are singing to me now."
My realization is, "In the face of a major change in our lives, when we open to there being a purpose for what has happened, we unite ourselves with healing energy, and may be surprised by how near comfort can be."