Remembrances
In memory of some of the Beings who have touched my life &
left me - changed.
George Bathurst
Miller
This is the man who first lit the spark of light that has
guided me along my Path in this life. As a child, he recognised
something within me that has taken me many years to find &
recognise myself. Long before he married my mother, he took me
into his heart. In later years he opened his soul to me in ways
that I didn't really appreciate until he was gone. His smile,
his sparkling eyes, his wicked sense of humour and his wonderfully
huge & open heart will always remain with me.
I am sure our paths will cross again, Skip. I hope we recognise
each other :-))
Curly Cat
Curly, resplendent in the Sun on the Pennyroyal Patch.
Curly left us on 16th March, 2003.
I am not yet ready to write her story - she is missed beyond
words.
Yoda
Yoda's story is yet to come ... a gentle soul, and a special
friend.
Here he lies on my bed, surrounded by my Aromatic learnings.
The orange box he is curled around is full of my Indian essential
oils & attars.
One day, Yoda just wasn't there any more - we don't know what
happened to him.
Pawnie
Pawnie
was a stray I brought home from my wanderings one day. When he
was still a kitten, he fell from a window ledge onto the verandah.
It wasn't a big fall, but he was just a little cat and he never
really recovered. He remained a little cat as he grew, his back
legs a bit crooked & wonkey.
I
was 5. I sat at the breakfast bench and sewed a blue ribbon around
his neck and the adults who were there expressed amazement at
the trust he showed in me as I wielded the needle & thread
while he sat there - perfectly still, perfectly trusting, letting
me sew him into a blue ribbon.
One
day, I couldn't find him. One day stretched to two, to three ...
I remember sitting on the piano stool, practising scales and my
Mother came to me and told me that she had found Pawnie. He had
curled up in The Digging Patch in
the back yard and had gone to sleep and the fairies had come &
taken him away from his body and he was with them now and was
happy.
I had never met Death before. I was 6. I still love you Pawnie.
Tom &
Rosie
We
had just moved to the Mountains from the City, Narayan & I.
It was a good move - I had found my Secret Garden, which is another
story for another time. All we lacked was cats in the yard, cats
in the house. So we found a "free to good home" ad in
the Gazette and went to Blaxland to choose two kittens to share
our lives. They were house-bred but wild and it took a while for
them to recognise us as their family. We brought Tom & Rosie
home with us. He was a strong beautifully marked tabby with a
possom coloured belly & thick luxurious fur. She was softly
grey & fluffy, her tabby markings muted by the long fur &
interrupted in places with white. She had more of her Mother's
half Persian breeding in her than he did.
It was Narayan's 4th birthday when they came to live with us.
They lived with us for many years, seeing him through school and
me through Motherhood. Tom was Narayan's special feline friend
- I'm sure he brought much comfort to those turbulent childhood
years. I know Rosie did for me. Both of them were gentle compassionate
loving beings & they knew nothing about putting conditions
on their love. Through many times of sadness & sorrow, either
Tom or Rosie would be there, sitting snuggled up spreading love
& quiet & peace, or sometimes just looking deep into troubled
eyes to soothe the hurt.
Rosie left us first - Bob & I sat with her while Lyn, the
vet, gave her the injection that sent to over the Rainbow Bridge.
Narayan couldn't bring himself to watch that passing. We cried
together as we said farewell. We buried her in the Garden
and gave her to a Blue Moon Rose to nurture.
Tom
left us on my 47th birthday. The people at work were somewhat
bewildered by the strength of my grief. This time, I wasn't there
to be with him on his passage out of this world and I regretted
that. I still do. Three nights later, he came to me in my dream
journeying. He lay on his side, his body still and lifeless, and
his everliving eyes looked deep into my soul and said farewell
and I knew he had truly been there. I can still see those eyes
- full of love and compassion and tinged with sorrow.
I
still grieve for you, Tom & Rosie - my tears still fall when
you come to my mind and my memories of the years I was blessed
with your company are tinged with sadness at your passing. I wish
you both well on your Journey, where-ever you may be.
Hamsa
I do not know where Hamsa is. I cannot imagine what dispair
made her leave her 3 young children to fend for themselves in
this world. There was a time when she may have come to me for
help in her troubled life. But this was not to be in the end.
In the end, she died alone, friends who were around her bewildered
that their friendship had not given her strength or hope or courage
or life. I think I have passed through the guilt of being such
a friend, of not knowing that she was in need, of not being there
for her.
Where ever you are Hamsa, I hope you know that the world is not
as empty as it must have seemed for you back then. Go in peace
& love, Friend.
Charlie Arnold
My
first glimpse into the person inside my father was during one
of my early meetings with him after a 13 year absence of contact.
We were driving behind a car which had a 'Save the Whales' sticker
on the back windscreen. "I tend to agree", said Charlie.
It was the first time I recognised compassion in this man. I think
it was at that moment that I forgave him for leaving me when I
was 7 years old, forgave him for that final argument with my Mother
which I witnessed, forgave him for giving his life to a brother
& sister I never got to play with, never got to know. Forgave
him for being human.
Charlie
died on Christmas Day, 1999.
Stanley Earles
Craig
Grandpa
Craig - Mum says I have inherited his healing hands and his shape
! I can only remember spending time with him on one occasion in
my life. I was almost 5 and my brothers & I spend a summer's
month with Grandma & Grandpa at their holiday home on the
south coast of Western Australia.
TCP. The Craig's Place.
I have such vivid memories of those days - happy & sad, loved
& lonely. But the memory that stays with me the strongest
is not of an event or a place or even really of a person... it
is of a feeling ... a feeling of knowing my Grandpa, & being
known & understood by him, in a way that was beyond the comprehension
of my young years. But it is a feeling that has kept me close
to him throughout my life and it is still a wonder to me that
I only knew him for 4 weeks so very many years ago.