About two weeks ago, I received a message – rather abruptly, for it was halfway through a client’s reading. It was a message of someone passing. I could not tell who the male was, for, although it felt familiar to me, there was no name to the soul who had returned to me.
I have had a strong feeling of someone passing this past week. Every sound I hear, every flash I see from the corner of mine eyes, I sense a shift has taken place, a loved one has gone, or is about to go. My intuition is running on autopilot, and still, I refuse to believe who it may be.
Today, as I sit in my living room ( a strange term to use for a room as I reflect on it) the wind is howling like it used to on summery lazy Saturday afternoons of childhood. Yet it is a cold wind blowing and I have this nauseated feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I know I should not have had breakfast this morning.
The monsters are edgy, heads down and ears open, waiting for their master to return home from the hospital where I left him this morning. It was an unusual morning, though not crazy. Reflections are telling me I should have taken notice of my intuition earlier and not have gone along with what seemed like the right thing to do. How often do we sit and regret later what we could have avoided if only we had taken notice of our gut feelings?
Now, I am sitting in the quiet, waiting, waiting, for the phone call that I’m hoping to hear before lunchtime, and not the one I’m dreading.