Hello, This is technically my first post, I have been a fly on the wall for some time now. I would like to explain my delima but first I have to fill in some gaps. Sorry to bore you with details but a brief history seems needed.
I was born and raised a witness (mostly in Oklahoma. I never knew my biological father. My step father was not a witness. My family on my mothers side are all witnesses. I am 41. I have four children (ages 25 down to 11). I left the religion 4 1/2 years ago while I was in California. I married two shit head witnesses, not at the same time silly, divorced my last one about 8 years ago after years and years of abuse sanctioned by the mother organization. so it goes.
About 4 years ago exactly I found a wonderful guy (British). We met, it was true love, and we got married 6 months later. The gods that be smiled down on me :). Six months after I moved to the UK with 3 of my children (my oldest was now married). My husband,Phil, was diagnosed with cancer and died a year after we were married. so it goes.
This was needless to say a big blow. I was just getting my sea legs and to be faced with death so quickly was terrifing. I was a 'good witness' I believed 100% for many many years. Afer he died at 38 it has taken me some time to sort this out. Who am I kidding... I don't have this sorted out. My mother was here when Phil died and she started all this psycho babble mumbo jumbo about seeing him again in the new system.
I feel that I was given a wonderful gift in a man who was truely my soul mate. He helped me live and I helped him die. I wouldn't trade any of that experience, because it made know what is real and true. He was the closest thing to 'jesus' that I have ever known.
Ok... now we are in the present... 2 1/2 years down the line. I am still in the UK, working at a University, raising my children. I have had bereavement counselling, and now therapy for 2 years. I have been working through a lot of shit. 90% witness related deprogramming. My family and former 'friends' will have nothing to to with me. I am working on finding my own voice, and living in this moment yet I have dificulty making real friends now as I still have a lot of mistrust for the 'world'. I have been in another relationship that for the past 10 months has progressivly gotten worse. I am ready to leave this man that I trusted but who has completely withdrawn from me. so it goes.
So here is the deal... I have a neighbor that I see rarely, just a quick hello over the fence etc. But a few days ago I took her up on a cup of tea and we began chatting in the garden. I opened up a bit about my recent life events and my current unhappiness. After a while she stopped me and asked me if my late husband was a blond man. I said yes he was earlier in his life. She said that she didn't want to frighten me but that she had been feeling his presence and that he was very much with me. Just about that time my boyfriend showed up and she said that the feeling was gone.
I feel that people like this have had big traumas in their lives (which she has) and I don't give much creedance to any of it. I think that most people have such a hard time accepting that this life is all there is that they have to invent something else. Hocus pocus stuff. I am very weary of any sort of lifestyle that looks outside oneself for answers. I don't think it is wrong, whatever gets people through this life is fine but blind faith is over for me thank you very much.
Anyway... I gave that conversation little thought. Until yesterday when she again asked me over as I was coming home from work. We talk for a few moments and all the sudden she started crying. Tears just pored from her eyes. She said that Phil was so sad... He was feeling my pain and knew how torn and despondant I had become.
Ok thats all fine and good... Anyone could come up with that.
But then she said that she felt another presence. She began discribing another person that was not saying anything, not wanting anything, but was showing himself to her. The discription (big man, dark, flat headed)did not mean anything to me. Then she said to wait and she would see if she could get a name. She said his name began with C... Charlie...
OK now she had my attention. My step father, Charles, died 19 years ago. He was 6 feet, 1/4 cherokee indian and alway had a flat top hair cut. I have not spoken his name aloud in probably 15 years. My 3 children don't even know their grandfathers name. 19 years ago I flew back to Oklahoma when I heard that he was terminally ill with cancer. He died the second I entered his hospital room. The relationship was wierd. He was never home. I can't remember him saying or doing anything of consequencial value in my life.
I am sitting outside in the garden, sipping a lemonaide, it is a glorius day.
I gave up on god, angels, spirits, demons, all that stuff. I don't need it. I don't want it. I don't know what to do with this.