My Guides have always been close to me, even though I sometimes distanced myself from them.
I decided a long time ago that if I was going to follow a spiritual path and trust in my guides that I was going to do it 100%.
It has been the way I have lived for 20 years, and I have never been disappointed in my path.
Following a spiritual path is like listening to a quiet little voice inside.
Sometimes I have to concentrate to hear the message.
Mostly it comes as a feeling.
It has been a year and a half since my wife of 17 years died.
It has been a lonely time, but a time to heal and adjust.
My mother is spending a few days with me here in Escalante. She has been part of this home for over 60 years. She now lives in Provo in a comfortable home.
I brought her down to spend a week in the old family home.
She fixed one of her home cooked meals and I enjoyed every bit of it.
She may not be here in a few more years so it has been special to have her here.
We were both commenting on this old house and the comfortable feeling that we feel here.
I remembered the circumstances that brought me here.
I was brought to this house because of a feeling.
I was sitting on a Beach on the Big Island of Hawaii when I noticed it.
It was a homesick feeling.
I asked my wife if she was feeling anything about Escalante.
She said, “yes.”
“I was waiting for you to get the message.”
That’s the way it usually happened.
She got it first and patiently waited for me.
So here in Hawaii, on the beach with a gorgeous sunset, my guides decided to let me know it was time to return to the mainland.
I had the perfect job. I was a caretaker for a Hawaiian coffee estate.
My job was to feed the cat and write the checks. Occasionally I would pick up guests at the airport and bring them back to the House.
We had a separate Ohana that was fully furnished and totally private.
A dream job.
Why now?
Why do you want me to move? I asked.
It was just a feeling, but it was so strong that I couldn’t ignore it.
You will understand in time, was the message.
I called my family and asked them if they would like a caretaker for the Escalante property.
I spent the last several summers there taking care of the place. It is a peaceful and quiet place most of the time.
We all agreed.
We began the task of bringing in a new couple to take over.
In a few weeks we were headed back to Salt Lake City.
It was cold when we arrived in February. I had just been in paradise with shorts and flippers, and now Snow?
I asked myself again.
Why?
The feeling was so strong.
I spent some time with family and then headed to New Mexico to do some long promised projects that were on hold.
I finally arrived in Escalante on April 1.
The roof leaked and the door was stuck shut. Luckily I found a window that was unlocked and pushed my wife through.
We were so excited to be here at last.
As I busied myself with the outside, my wife worked on the inside.
It felt like we had to hurry to get things in order.
I had been paying storage fees on our furniture for 3 years. It was time to open up the doors and see what we had forgotten in that time.
On the way to the storage unit in Manti Utah, I noticed a rope on the side of the road. I stopped and backed up. A perfectly good rope.
A sign?
I thought to myself, huh!
We were going to just get a few things to bring back, but this feeling was building and I blurted out, Lets just get a big truck and bring everything back.
My wife agreed.
Two days later we were on our way to Escalante. I only had two days on the rental and so I unloaded everything the night we arrived in Escalante.
That night the phone rang.
Your father died.
We were both stunned.
We dropped off the truck and headed North for the funeral.
It was all a blur.
Death altars perception of events and time.
We bought some trees.
I wanted to do a memorial for my Father.
When we got to the top of the blues, before entering the Escalante valley, we stopped and said a prayer of thanks for our safe journey.
The mountains seemed to be saying, “We have been waiting for you. Welcome home.”
The feeling was overwhelming and both of us were in tears.
The task of unpacking and organizing was a joy. I found many things that I had forgotten.
This old house absorbed all our things and we blended together the old with the new.
We both felt like we had come home at last.
I even threw away the boxes.
It was three months later in June, when she felt the excruciating pain for the first time.
Vertigo.
Nausea.
She lost 30 pounds in such a short time.
We had discussed what we would do if something like this happened.
I asked her again. Do you want to see a doctor?
Her answer was the same.
No.
It began with a small lump in Hawaii.
We talked about it then.
Her answer was no then, too.
I was out in the garden when my guides told me to prepare myself for her death.
Why?
Why is this happening now?
You brought us here.
You welcomed us here.
Now, you are going to take her?
We didn’t tell our families until it was so obvious that we could no longer hide it.
Breast cancer.
She lived in Northern Arizona during the Nuclear testing of the 50’s and 60’s.
She was a downwinder.
I only had two weeks to prepare.
We called family members and told them that this would be a good time to say their goodbyes to their mother.
They also knew her feelings about doctors and hospitals.
As each family arrived, we brought them into the bedroom and allowed them to visit and say their goodbyes.
This old house held nearly 35 people and for a few days we were bathed in spiritual light.
We laughed.
We cried.
Then we withdrew and allowed her to die.
We celebrated her life with a living memorial.
I am still asking myself, Why?
I don’t know the answer.
I feel her often.
I can sense her thoughts.
This old house has become a place of peace and reflection.
My guides brought me here for a reason.
I believe that.
I am in a holding pattern.
Thats what it feels like.
Writing helps me to put sense in my life.
I am listening closely to my spiritual family.
Waiting for clues or messages.
I don’t know what the future holds but I am at peace until I do know.
“You will understand in time.”
