|Posted on July 11, 2015 at 3:35 PM||comments (0)|
Wendy was an approximately 9 month old kitty cat. She was born into our household and abandoned by her mother. She became one of the two litters we were bottle feeding at the time. My son and I bonded over sharing her feedings.
One day, she began to get diarrhea. This began her long string of visits back and forth to the vet. She was put on antibiotics, would get better, be great for a few weeks, and then go down hill again. This cycle was repeated.
One day the kids found her very weak and unresponsive. We really thought we were going to lose her that day. My son placed his good luck charm in her bed with her. Then he, his twin sister, and I all prayed to the higher powers that be, and to their biological mother who passed away some time ago. We prayed for her to be healed and happy.
Within two hours, she was running around and playing like she had never been sick. We added the twin's biological mother's name, and Wendy became Wendy Becca.
This was only one time of several that she pulled herself back from the brink of death. She loved us. She loved life. She was a beautiful soul. She was my Warrior Wendy Becca.
The vet told us that she had a genetic malformation in her intestines. We went through trial and error with different medications. Different foods. Different vets. Wendy had rapidly become the center of attention.
Finally with the right foods, honey for her blood sugar, and lots of love, Wendy finally began to start gaining weight and looking more healthy. We were all beginning to breathe a little bit. Like we could finally count on her being on the road to health.
A few days ago, she quit eating and began to throw up. Her stools were hard. This was new. On her second day of this, I began trying to give her pedialyte and things she could hold down. That night, she slept on my chest all night. She pured and cuddled with me,and I gave her soft kisses on her forehead and that adorable little nose. In my heart, I knew that the time we had left seemed to be slipping away.
She was losing weight, in just a few days she had already lost most of the weight she had gained. That morning when we awoke, she held down some pedialyte and soft food mixture for me. She gazed into my eyes, and I knew she needed to make another trip to the vet. So we loaded her up.
The ride to the vet will forever be burned into my memory. She wrapped her paw around my finger, and she rubbed her head against me, and she purred the most beautiful purr a cat has ever purred. Looking back on it now, I believe she was telling me good bye.
The vet said it was probably time to put her to sleep. He did not believe she would recover from her condition this time. I asked him if he had ever been wrong. He said of course he had been.
I expressed that I had seen her in much worse shape than that, and surprise us all. I could not make that choice for her. I could not play God. I could not be what ended the fight of such a warrior. I pleaded with another way. He said he could treat her with antibiotics and send her home on an oral force feeding schedule. This I could live with.
He began to explain though, if she did pull through this, just what "fixing" her would pertain to. Thousands of dollars, specialist, surgeries, and still no guarantee that she would survive... that he held little hope for her survival. Wendy watched him the whole time he explained this to me. Her eyes open, alert, and I swear she understood what he was saying. And I believe it was in that moment that she decided that this body would not be the one best suited for her.
When the Vet went to go get her medicine, I held her and told her that I would help her live, but that I could not help her die. If she needed to go, that she could go. But it had to be on her own choice. and I told her how much I loved her.
The vet returned with her oral antibiotic, and just as he administered it, Wendy began to gasp, she had decided to leave this world, that it would be too much. We held her until her last breath. She made her choice. It broke my heart.
That night, I took a shower and I broke down. Wendy came to me. She told me that she was going to return to me in another form. She made me understand that she wants to live. Not in a body that is sickly. Rather in a body that can experience the true wonders of this life. She showed me the image of what she will look like when she returns. And I know that I will recognize her in her eyes.
Wendy Becca had such a short time on this earth. But the time she spent with me taught me so much. She taught me to never give up on yourself, even with others already have. She taught me that there are miracles in this world still taking place every day. And she taught me that even if you have to give up. To take a break. That life is never ending. That even an ending can be a new beginning.
I love you Baby Wendy. I really do not know what to do with out you. I impatiently await the moment you are returned to me, and look forward to sharing your life with you again.
RIP my Angel 7-10-15
|Posted on November 29, 2014 at 9:30 PM||comments (0)|
For those of you who do not know, I am currently going to College. I am a double Psychology / Sociology major. I have one professor that asked us at the beginning of the semester, if we have ever been to a psychic. Of course, I raised my hand, he raised his hand, and then proceeded to tell us how awful and off based the reading was. The whole time he is talking to us, I am "seeing" an ancestor of his hanging out behind him. I believe it to have been his father or grandfather. The spirit made it known to me that my professor was a "chip of the old block". I wanted so much to share with my professor that he has a guide with him, wanted to make him a believer in psychic abilities. However, my friends and a few family members all assuerd me that I should keep my mouth shut. After all, he was in charge of my grade. Just recently I had the opportunity to stop by his office with my daughter, who is also in college with me, and I got brave enough to bring up his" mini him", to which he told me to shut the door, and proceeded to tell us he knew who that was, that his family is gifted in the ways of being psychic and that he owns 5 sets of tarot cards! That really made my day!
|Posted on August 25, 2014 at 12:45 AM||comments (0)|
I am a Psychic. I talk to the other side. I have “known” my whole life that death does not mean complet death. I have always known that energies exist beyond the physical world.
For this reason alone, I have always feared death to a degree, but was always comforted in knowing that I would still exist. The degree of fear that I had, was never enough for me to honor myself or my body, to extend my vessel in as good of shape as I could. Because of this, I have allowed myself to become over weight, addicted to nicotine, medicated for Depression, Anxiety, and OCD. Over the past few years I have allowed myself to fall into a rut. A rut I never even realized I was in, until today. The past few weeks have been a little stressful for me. I was scheduled to have my first mamogram since I just turned 40. Of course the week leading up to the appointment, I am fearing the worst, having readings done, etc. The funny part of the readings, my friend and my daughter both did one that showed there may be some complications but all would be well in the end. Being a reader myself, I interpreted the spread my daughter did in my own way, and it was clear to me that I woiuld have problems with my right breast and may even lose it. Of course everyone that knows me, knows I sometimes fear the worst, when I know I should do the opposite. Well, the call comes in with the results. The left side looks normal. The right side has two spots that they want a closer look at so I am to go back in a week or so for another go round. Now, of course, I am holding on to the hope that my friend and daughter are right, and this will be nothing, and life will go on as usual.
The other stressful situation, I am due to go back to school this semester, my fifth semester, if you count my summer class. Every semester, my pell grants and all that flow freely without problem. I noticed today, that they are saying I have not funds awarded this semester. I have to call Monday to see what is up with that. Now, this could be nothing, that gets fixed simply and in time for school to start next Wednesday. Or it can be something that throws me out for this semester. Which, if it turns out to be that, I feel it may be because I am fixing to have to fight breast cancer, and school would most likely get in the way of that. So the next week or two are going to be scary, but interesting to see where it all lays out.
Earlier today my youngest daughter told me she had a dream last night that I died. Another “sign?” Shortly after that, she layed beside me in my bed and cuddeled with me while watching t.v. I remember paying attention to how soft the skin of her hands are. How delicate her fingers are. How her cheek felt when I gave her a kiss. It was at that moment that I remembered just who would be the most hurt if I were to not be here physically any more. It would be my children. I do not know if they have enough belief in life after death to know for sure that I would stil be with them every single day. Which made me think about that. Certainly I would be here with them in spirit form. But I would much rather be here with them in physical form for as long as I can. And it only makes sense that I should want to live as healthy as I can so I can atleast enjoy what time I have left. However much time that happens to be.
Tonight in my shower, I was pondering my life. I discovered I am not really living life at all! I get thru the day, going thru the motions, to the point that I seem to be replaying days of my lives over and over again. That is not living. That is existing. I want more. I choose more. I was reminded of how much each day we wake up, is a gift. One more day to live life with those I love. To experience life with them, to make memories. And in this moment, tears flooded down, and I thanked God for loving me, for not giving up on me. For still being here for me when I “woke” up.
I have spent a lot of my life defending things I have done, habits I have, self medicating methods I use, parenting decisions I make. I have realized, none of this matters. I know who I am. The good, the bad and the ugly. I know best every one of my flaws, and right now, I choose to accept them. I also choose to change some, most likely keep some, and maybe even find some more.
Tonight, I feel ALIVE, for the first time in a long time. Awakened to what is really important. Yes, I want to get healthy. Yes I love my kids and my husband and my friends, and my time should be spent more on focusing on these things, rather then the daily routine of chores, responcibilities etc.
So tonight, I am going to a dear friends house, to smoke my last cigarettes, to drink a few drinks to remember that its OK to cut loose once in a while. Tomorrow, starts the beginning of what will be.
Maybe my results will be fine, maybe I have a challenge ahead. Maybe I will get into class ok this semester, or maybe I need a break to work on the things that really make me happy. Whatever way this plays out, I know that I am truly grateful for my family and my life. And from this moment, I choose to become healthier. I choose to take control of my own destiny. I choose to survive and live and be happy!
To those friends I did not get to see before falling and getting back on the nicotine wagon, I am sorry, I love you, and I will be around as soon as I trust myself without a cigarette again. Thank you all for caring about me, for being in my life. And thank you God for every blessing in my life.
|Posted on February 4, 2014 at 12:25 AM||comments (0)|
Religion is an interesting topic for me. How does one know what the true Spiritual path is? How do we know what religion is the truest religion? What word of God do we listen to?
As a Spiritual Leader, I did an experiment with my students once. I grabbed an object. I held it up and asked all my students to look at it. I then asked them to “imagine” that this object was God. I then asked them to all write down 3 things that they observed about God. When they were done, we categorized everyone into groups. those that noticed the object was blue in color were in one group. Those that noticed the object was circular in shape were placed in another group. etc. when we were finished we had groups of people that all agreed on what they noticed about God. We probably had about 4 or 5 groups.
I pointed out that this was how religion was created. and how each different sect of religion was created. The most important thing that I pointed out, was that even though we all had different perspectives on our object, they were all small parts of whole truth. they were all describing the same object.
In religion, There is God. You may see God as a male, a female, or maybe even a creature of some sort. does this make us all viewing a different God? are there multiple Gods? No. But we do, in our human minds, and limited abilities in our flesh form, define God by our perceptions of what we believe about God.
We have all heard the story of the man that invited God to Christmas dinner. 3 times the bell rang. 3 times he answered. 3 times he sent strangers with food, clothing, etc. Feeling abandoned, he asked God why he never came, only to be pointed out that God did indeed visit 3 times. God will choose to communicate with us in whatever shape or form God knows that we will recognize it to be God. God may show his form as Jesus, Buddha, Hecate, any name ever been given to God, he has a form that he will take, to ensure that those he communicates with, will recognize God, as God. God might not get very far to take the form of Jesus, to speak to a Buddhist. He may instead choose to take the form of Buddha, as this is the clearest way of communicating with this individual. He may choose the form of Mary to communicate with a Catholic.
God has all powers and glory of all things. more then we can ever humanly imagine. It saddens me to see different spiritual groups fighting over who is right and who is wrong. This is so not spiritual. I would like to see us all strive to know that God resigns in all religious beliefs, and to find the tolerance that Jesus taught, and the belief in the magick of the universe. To know that each person’s relationship is personal and unique. there is no wrong way. All roads lead to heaven.