Accepting the Gift of Intuitive Knowing

I have been greiving for two months for something that has not happened yet, though in my soul, in my being, I know and have known that it is inevitable. It is a curse and a blessing to know such things before they happen, but it is a gift that I am now on a mission to learn to live with. It is almost as if it is a journey I am compelled to make whether I want to or not. If you think about it, it happens without my consent, therefore I may as well learn to understand it and use it in a manner that helps me to finish out my life as a spiritual being having a human experience.

Unexpectedly, my father arrived at my door after driving for several hours from out of state. It would not be such a big deal except he is 80 years old and he drove alone. Making it all more exceptional that he arrived safely, I noticed that he appeared to have suffered a stroke as he slurred hello with his crooked mouth. But, all of that did not hit me as hard as the vision that I was given- to "see" cancer riddled throughout his body. It was the knowing that he had very little time and knowing without asking a question that the apparent stroke was not a stroke at all, but just the symptoms of a stroke.

Dad lumbered his way onto the porch as I unloaded his Jimmy and parked it behind the house. The neighbor had just made some chicken salad sandwiches and I shared these with my father, working hard to keep myself in check as I waited for an explanation that I was not going to get. It was obvious that he needed to rest and I used this to excuse myself to work on the yard and myself as well.

Some people drink to deal with things, some people become very dramatic and call everyone they know, I dig in the garden, weed, rake, shovel or iron. On this day, I raked. Over the next several days I continued to rake until it snowed and then I shoveled. I shoveled for hours. Then I potted plants and cleaned house and still the words did not come for either of us. I understood. Dad could not say the words, he could not handle the reaction of tears and pity to follow. I could not say the words because I did not know what he knew. I believed then and I believe now that he innately knew, but he still had hope because he had not yet finished the tests and seen all the necessary specialists.

I grieved as I raked. I continued to grieve when I arrived to his home and began to clean and call specialists and wait on him hand and foot. Still, the hope continued that my vision was wrong, that his continued spiral downhill was due to the brain tumor and it would all go away after treatment. Then, the last shred of hope was bestowed upon one last specialist and it died there.

I continue to grieve. He has not died yet and he has agreed to treatment, but I have learned to stop shutting out the "knowing" and accept it. I have learned that this gift is not a willing or a wanting of something bad to happen; that if I ignore it, it will go away, not happen. I am not that powerful.

No, one experience does not make it so. It would be arrogant to believe that I have this gift because of this innate knowing with my father. I have lived this before, many times. I dreamt about my step-father's funeral for a month preceding his unexpected death. For years I believed that if I did not dream, then I could not dream something to happen. That proved to be false logic when I realized that I could see death in the living, in the daytime, in their energy. It proved to be false logic when friends would find themselves freaked out because I knew solutions to their problems to which they never confided.

I realize that I am one person who is witnessing only the death, the cycle of life, the natural progression of things in only my life and community. It brings me to have great compassion and empathy for oncologists, nurses and ER staff and others that must deal with the pain of the living day in and day out. How incredibly painful it must be to be a OB and tell your patient that something is wrong with her baby. The pain of loss does not wait until the holiday is over or the living is stronger which affects the personal lives of these professionals. How selfish would it be of me to feel sorry for myself over the visions of my losses when they are inevitable anyway? My losses are all a part of my journey and they are not done in service to others. It is all relevant.

One positive thing about grieving before the death happens is that it allows me to be there for the living after the fact. It will allow me to be in the moment when that chapter of the journey needs to be lived. It allows me to be in service to others at the time when they need it most.