Why I do what I do. Part six

Meeting God.

It was a while before I could put my plan into action as I continued to navigate my ghostly existence. Sisters got married, other sisters travelled, friends moved, children came, new jobs celebrated. About me all life continued apace whilst I tackled the steady task of staying alive. Breathe in, breathe out. Just breathe. Happy at these unfolding journeys, I grieved my solitary existence, knowing these achievements would unlikely be mine.

Like most initiatory experiences, there were moments of heart-piercing despair, patched together with moments of enlightenment and bliss.

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At sisters’ wedding I couldn’t walk up a hill without assistance, had to slow the procession down as we walked to the aisle, had to leave before the celebrations were over, was of no real help. Seems not so much an issue now, but then I was angry, humiliated, ashamed. I was nothing but a thorn in the way, a worry punctuating otherwise carefree lives.

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For the first time I petitioned to the Creator of all that was to quietly slip away; a thief in the night, with no fuss, no noise, a gradual stepping away, a bowing out of life. My absence had taken root in most of the lives I had once participated in, and in the days to come, I reasoned, this absence would no longer be noticed, like a faded photograph:

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‘Wasn’t there another sister once?’.

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As I came up for air from this supplication, which I knew intuitively wouldn’t be granted, I was instead given a gift so great I could have not have fathomed. The gift of presence. The gift of an eternal now. The gift of awareness of who I really was beyond the flesh and the bone. The gift of God.

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Onward to the light.

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