I work in the floorcovering industry. The company I work for is a distributor. It seems no matter how hard you try, if you’re Portuguese, you somehow get mixed in to the construction trade (insert smile here).
Later the same year that Lidija died, just before Christmas, I had Gord, a flooring contractor, come in to order some flooring for a job he was doing that weekend.
Normally, I'm an attentive listener, not this day. Gord seemed a little frazzled. Most flooring contractors who own their own business, install the flooring themselves and handle the admin work, do seem stretched thin. I noted it especially this day though, something was different. He was talking to me, telling me what he needed and all the while there was only one thought in my head, my God, he looks like death. He finished talking and asked me a question. I hadn’t heard a thing he said.
The following Monday our president informed us that Gord had died that weekend in a car crash on his way to do a job up north. Gord’s vehicle was totalled by a truck in a snow storm. In the car were Gord, his son, and his son’s friend. Gord’s son was the only person to survive. I remember not being surprised. It hit me a few days later that I had had that irrational thought on the Friday before.
I sat with the energy to understand it; to understand my behaviour and consciousness within it.
One Friday the following spring, I saw my next door neighbour sealing his tar drive way early morning. I got into my car and started it. I looked over at him and decided to get out of the car to say hello, I was already running late but didn’t care. I made small talk, he smiled, told me he was taking his time and doing things slowly. He wasn’t an old man, but he wasn’t young either. I bade him a good day and got into my car. I pulled out of the drive way and thought, uh oh…. I knew I had behaved out of character, almost autonomously.
I was worried.
The next morning my mother, Gemini and I decided to run some errands together. I was relieved to see my neighbour adding on the second coat of sealer to his driveway as we left. We waved.
We arrived home just after lunch. The hub-bub of energy on our street that morning due to a garage sale had ended.
All of us were hungry so we dropped our bags and went straight to the kitchen. My father was eating his lunch at the table. My parents started chatting. The conversation began with my father and went something like this, hey, you know our next door neighbour, the Greek guy? Yeah, he died. My father’s an asshole – his one good quality is that he likes to joke around. I asked him if he was serious. It was hard to believe and what with the smile on my father’s face (likely due to nervousness) I thought he was kidding. Yeah, he’s dead. I’m not kidding. I protested - I don’t see any cars - no one’s parked at their house. My father said that because they were Greek, the hearse collected the body directly, and the widow went with him. I don’t know what Greek custom is but my father hadn't lied about the death.
Two hours.
I was gone two hours. That’s how quickly it all went down.
Understanding my position in this energy, I decided to flip the script.
Although it was a gift that I was able to make peace with Gord and my neighbour before they passed, I was left with the immovable knowledge of knowing and not being able to stop it. Forget stopping it, how could I even speak it to them? Hey, don’t forget to say your goodbyes, you only have a bit of time, enjoy it. What does one do with that information? Nothing, see? I never asked for the knowledge to stop it, I only asked for the knowledge to know it so I could say goodbye.
After reorganizing my ‘asking,’ the energy lay dormant.
This past June this energy found its way into a dream. I've guessed at the meaning of the dream, I don’t know or recognize the man in it.
In the dream I’m helping a flooring contractor. He insists that I be his contact person from that point on. I told him that my colleague’s the right person to help him but he’s persistent so I agree. He’s a new customer so I asked him to follow me out through the premises. I cross the threshold through a door and see the back of the contractor’s head. I recognize it immediately because he’s got thick european shoulder-length hair, it’s distinctive. I see myself just ahead of him. I watched as the contractor begins having a heart attack and drops to the floor. I realize that this is a premonition of an event about to take place. I turn around, put out my hands to push him back before he passes through the doorway, but it’s too late. He follows me and things play out just as I had seen. The contractor falls to the floor, he’s in pain; he’s struggling to stay alive, gripping my hand tightly. I felt the angels to my right pulling him. The more he struggled the more he suffered. I started pleading, telling him to go with them. He wouldn’t listen. It was painful to watch. I knew there was no amount of fighting that would stop this…and then I woke up.
This entry is for Gord and my Greek neighbour, you are not forgotten.
For now, this is the last entry in this blog. Hallelujah Heartist has been healing for me, more so than I anticipated. It has allowed me to be as free as I possibly could be with you, using the written word. Thank you for sharing this with me.
Thank you to everyone who has checked in or read each entry faithfully. I appreciate it more than you know.
With quiet gratitude, I remain,
For now, this is the last entry in this blog. Hallelujah Heartist has been healing for me, more so than I anticipated. It has allowed me to be as free as I possibly could be with you, using the written word. Thank you for sharing this with me.
Thank you to everyone who has checked in or read each entry faithfully. I appreciate it more than you know.
With quiet gratitude, I remain,
Lesley
Hallelujah Heartist
