The White Light
This happened a few weeks ago. I wasn't too freaked by it, but T has had some trouble getting her head around it. She is the practical one. I am the one who insists on putting out Irish whiskey for the fae in our Hawthorne tree every full moon. T goes along with nearly everything I suggest, but I think sometimes that she doesn't really believe in them. I think she finds me kind of entertaining and hey, she has an open mind. Things are possible. Not probable, perhaps, but definitely possible.
Plus, she's seen our house ghost. That will give you a startle.
So, I woke up one morning to her usual kiss goodbye before she left for work. She hesitated. I was barely awake. Then, she knelt next to the bed and said, "I need to share this with you. It is freaking me out a little bit." I woke up a little.
We had been sleeping in separate bedrooms because I was fighting off a kidney infection. I was in so much pain that even if she turned over, I winced. So, it was off to the guest room for her.
She woke up around 1 a.m. and decided to come check on me. This is common practice for her and sometimes she does it several times per night when we sleep apart. I used to snore and this comforted her, but once I started on chemo, my sleep became like a deep dark tunnel that I flew into during the night and my snoring stopped. In fact, now she tells me that I barely move, that she often wakes up and puts her hand on my chest to assure herself that I am breathing. She once told me that she thinks I go away at night.
"It's like your body is there but you are far away," she says. She might be right. My slumber, if I am not in pain, is so incredibly deep that waking up is like swimming up from the bottom of a deep pool.
But, I guess that night, she came to the door of our bedroom and stopped short.
"There was a white shimmering ball of light directly over your head," she said. "It lit up your head. You had this half smile on your face."
I asked her how big it was. She said it was about the size of a tennis ball. That it shimmered and moved. Swayed.
"I stood there paralyzed," she admitted. "I was half fascinated, half terrified. And then it sort of....turned. It wasn't like it had a face, but it turned towards me, like it was looking at me."
Ok. She had my attention. I asked her what happened next.
"This will sound crazy, but it was like after it saw me standing there, it just...leaped out of the window. The blinds MOVED. And it was just....gone."
I was curious. Did I stir? She said no. She said that she stood for a few moments to assure herself that I was breathing and then she went back to bed.
"It was kind of terribly beautiful."
So. It hasn't happened again....that we know of. And it doesn't freak me out. I figure it was one of the fae, stopping by to say hello or maybe a healer from the other side. We've told a few people. The religious ones think it was God or one of my deceased parents.
"I had been praying for you so hard that night before I went to bed."
T and I are unsure. She says that it felt "powerful and good."
I can only hope so. I appreciate all the help that I can get. Whatever or whomever it was, thank you....I think.
No. Thank you. I'm sure.
What do you think?
Plus, she's seen our house ghost. That will give you a startle.
So, I woke up one morning to her usual kiss goodbye before she left for work. She hesitated. I was barely awake. Then, she knelt next to the bed and said, "I need to share this with you. It is freaking me out a little bit." I woke up a little.
We had been sleeping in separate bedrooms because I was fighting off a kidney infection. I was in so much pain that even if she turned over, I winced. So, it was off to the guest room for her.
She woke up around 1 a.m. and decided to come check on me. This is common practice for her and sometimes she does it several times per night when we sleep apart. I used to snore and this comforted her, but once I started on chemo, my sleep became like a deep dark tunnel that I flew into during the night and my snoring stopped. In fact, now she tells me that I barely move, that she often wakes up and puts her hand on my chest to assure herself that I am breathing. She once told me that she thinks I go away at night.
"It's like your body is there but you are far away," she says. She might be right. My slumber, if I am not in pain, is so incredibly deep that waking up is like swimming up from the bottom of a deep pool.
But, I guess that night, she came to the door of our bedroom and stopped short.
"There was a white shimmering ball of light directly over your head," she said. "It lit up your head. You had this half smile on your face."
I asked her how big it was. She said it was about the size of a tennis ball. That it shimmered and moved. Swayed.
"I stood there paralyzed," she admitted. "I was half fascinated, half terrified. And then it sort of....turned. It wasn't like it had a face, but it turned towards me, like it was looking at me."
Ok. She had my attention. I asked her what happened next.
"This will sound crazy, but it was like after it saw me standing there, it just...leaped out of the window. The blinds MOVED. And it was just....gone."
I was curious. Did I stir? She said no. She said that she stood for a few moments to assure herself that I was breathing and then she went back to bed.
"It was kind of terribly beautiful."
So. It hasn't happened again....that we know of. And it doesn't freak me out. I figure it was one of the fae, stopping by to say hello or maybe a healer from the other side. We've told a few people. The religious ones think it was God or one of my deceased parents.
"I had been praying for you so hard that night before I went to bed."
T and I are unsure. She says that it felt "powerful and good."
I can only hope so. I appreciate all the help that I can get. Whatever or whomever it was, thank you....I think.
No. Thank you. I'm sure.
What do you think?
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