|A beautiful area not too far off the road, quiet, cool with sunlight coming down through the huge trees. |
Ronnie would love this. He would have enjoyed this trip.
One of the saddest things, to me, about Ronnie's sudden illness and passing was that late in the stages, he realized he had seen very little of this beautiful earth we all call "home". He honed in on the Redwood Forest. "I would love to see the Redwoods".
He was already paralyzed and on methadone when we started "planning" a trip out to California to see the giant Redwoods. We watched documentaries about the forest. He talked about renting a motor home and taking the whole family with us. His Hospice nurses said they'd be glad to go with us. Our sorta son in law, Andy, agreed to drive the big motor home for us.
Of course the trip never happened. He was too far gone by the time he decided he'd like to see the Redwoods.
So it was a bittersweet moment when I scattered the last of his ashes behind this huge Redwood tree in the northern most part of the Jedediah Smith Redwood Forest in Northern California.
He's been with me this entire trip. My friends, Abraham-Hicks, say nonphysical energy often uses birds as messengers because they are EVERYWHERE. On this trip, I saw big red pigeons in downtown Portland, and downtown Seattle. Bright red pigeons are not common in wild flocks, so when I saw the red ones, I knew I had company. : )
When we were walking down to the gift shop at Foul Weather Point, a black bird perched on a sign that read, "No public restroom". I was not two feet from him, while I was talking to him, and taking his picture, Then he looked at me and pooped on the sign -- just to add some humor to my day, then flew away.
On a boat dock, a sea gull perched on a post long enough for me to get his picture.
There was also the Bruno ski lift on Mt. Hood. And when we went to the Oregon Caves, our tour guide told us that the caves were accidentally discovered by a man chasing his dog whose name was Bruno. Passing through Idaho, I noticed the Bruneau Dunes. By then I was on my way home like a rent horse on its way to the barn, so we didn't go see about them.
I saw all the beautiful things with a new, deeper appreciation. I believe those who pass on to what comes next are not "dead" just out of sight for now. When Ronnie's dad died in 1967, Ronnie told me again and again, "I still feel like he's right here beside me".
I know what he meant now.