“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” -Rumi
Sitting in the overcrowded plane, I feel confined and bothered by the noises that seem to get louder and louder. I learned years ago that the distracting noises, like a dog’s incessant barking or my husband’s snoring need not take me away from my inner peace. I shut my eyes and move inside to find solace. I take a deep breath and begin to drink in the sweet presence that is waiting for my connection.
When I open my eyes I feel more comfortable. As I press my forehead against the window, “the sky’s the limit” echoes inside my head. The icy cold window sends shivers up and down my spine while the site of land meeting sky takes my breath away.
Just this morning I was at my family’s cabin in Northern Ontario where the earth was covered with a blanket of snow. Outside blue jays, finches and a black squirrel were eating the seeds placed each morning on the deck. My father likes to sit at the window in his wheel chair and watch these delightful creatures.
But last night, dad had difficulty breathing and today he looks weak in spirit and body. Usually he laughs with joy at the frolics of the squirrels and birds but this morning he is not interested in the show. I feel his struggle as he tries to feed himself and it pushes hard on me. I take his spoon and carefully place the warmed peaches in his mouth.
It’s again time to say goodbye, which brings tears to my eyes. My heart is heavy as I focus inward and ask, “Is it okay to leave?” Just days ago my father was on deaths door but yet again he rallied. He has defied all the doctors, nurses and caregivers. His will is beyond anyone I have ever met.
As I stare out of the window, there sits before my father a huge black Raven. My sister calls out “maybe this is a sign that we should not leave?” In dream books the Raven symbolizes fear of the unknown. That is surely true here. I listen inside and allow spirit to lead me.
“No, it is time for us to leave dad now,” I reply. This decision is such a courageous act for both of us. His wish to die at home has come at great sacrifice for all his children. Although we care for our dad with loving, willing hearts, we feel the toll it has taken both physically and emotionally. It was time to trust the messenger, the Raven, to bring us the energy, courage and strength to move forward, instead of fearing this bird and letting our inner darkness take over.
Alone with my father in his bedroom, I look into his eyes and tell him I am leaving. He seems unconcerned. I realize that he thinks that Colleen and I are leaving him to fend for himself. I bring in the care giver and show him that he will not be alone.
After she leaves, I take his face into my hands and mouth the words, “I feel sad, I may never see you again.” I cry and I lay my head upon his chest feeling deeply how hard it is to say goodbye. I sink into the warmth of his skin and take in the moment. He looks at me and says, “Oh well.” He looks away and shrugs his shoulders.
I want him to grab me, hold me, tell me that I am the greatest daughter and thank me for stopping my life and coming to be with him again and again. I breathe in and feel the truth that my heart brings me. He loves me. I can’t imagine how it would be for me if my child was leaving my bedside during my last days. I am sure I would be much more dramatic. Instead my father speaks the words that he has said over and over again, “maybe I will get stronger tomorrow.”
As I leave my child hood home, I look around and I am grateful for this time with my dad. I loved cuddling up with him and watching one of his favorite movies of all time, “The Bridges of Madison County.” Tears rolled down his face as he remembers my mother and their life together. A thought enters my mind - I will continue to come back to him until the moment he let’s go to be with my mother.
When I arrive home I read up on the Raven. The message on the medicine card confirms for me that I was listening to my inner guidance: Raven is the messenger of the void, the seeking of answers that brings an awakening. It also can bring in the new state of wellness as the Raven is the courier to bring that energy flow. A new state of wellness!
Could that be for my dad? The animal cards I have referred to for years tell me that there is the power of the unknown at work, and something special is about to happen. The deeper mystery, however, is how you will respond to the moment. Can you recognize it and use it to further enhance your growth?
As I recall the last moments at my father’s bedside, I could have been devastated by his inability to recognize my needs. Instead I felt my saddened heart and stepped into the light of my spirit. Standing strong in the authority of myself I did not need him to be my source. I looked at my father and saw his need: To be loved just the way he was. My connection to spirit was guiding my way and holding me in great love. I looked into his eyes without saying any words. There I was held by a limitless love that touched my heart. I was meeting him in that field that Rumi spoke about. I waved goodbye.
Unfortunately, the voice of spirit is not always the dominant voice of the world. When fear is louder than love, it takes a conscious effort to let the presence of light dissolve the darkness. Fear has no power when we pray to God to be our source.
The Raven showed me that I could trust the mystery. This life that continues to be living within my father seems unlimited as I allow unconditional love to help me see the healing taking place for both of us.
This story was published in Transformational Magazine's May 2011 issue:
