What a gift
Two weeks after Chrissy was killed, we were given the gift of seeing each other.
She was sitting in an easy chair, wearing a blue shift and surrounded by a sea of white. She seemed bewildered as she looked around our room, until she saw me. The instant we looked in each others eyes, I could sense her relief at seeing me. She understood what was to become, and let me know she would be alright now that she knew what was happening. She had been confused by the circumstances of her demise and needed to see me to help her understand. We normally communicated with our own form of esp in life, and so it was during this visit that we "spoke" volumes without uttering a single word.
She let me know she was alright and was glad we were having an opportunity to say goodbye. She comprehended what was happening to her and could now proceed peacefully to what ever was next. My broken heart wanted me to go to her and leave this empty world behind, but when I made a move to join her, she dissolved.
I am not the kind of person who believes in visions or apparitions. I still find it ridiculous that people will make a shrine to a tortilla with the face of Jesus toasted on it's surface. I try to be open to the idea that the emperor has new clothes, but all I ever see is the naked truth and a bunch of delusional nitwits. I have had some pretty vivid hallucinations on LSD, but my moment with Chris was not like a hallucination. When we saw each other it was as real as this moment by the river as I write with this #2 pencil. What we experienced was not drug, alcohol, or dream induced.
I was blessed to spend 16 years living with and caring for my,"other half". She was as open and loving as I was stoic and cynical. Together we radiated a powerful force of goodness that attracted people like moths to a flame. Chris was my purpose in life. She was the other half of me that I had spent my life searching for. It took me several meaningful relationships, 3 divorces, and at least a hundred one night stands to find her, but she and I knew when we were introduced and looked in each others eyes, that our search was over. We had finally found each other.
During our 16 years together, we never had an argument or an unkind thought toward each other. The only time we were unhappy was if we were apart for more than a couple of hours. One time, in our first year together, her folks took her up to Richmond for a visit. We were miserable the whole 2 or 3 days until we were back together. We would never be separated again.
The night before she was run over and killed, we made plans to go to Richmond to pick up our new van. Chrissy's mother and family had picked out and purchased a mini van with a wheelchair lift for us. We were looking forward to the good gas mileage and the lift would take some of the strain off my deteriorating back. Our present van was an 84 dodge that got 10 miles to the gallon, city or highway. I would lift Chris out of her chair and set her on the passenger seat. Then I would place ramps up to the van to drive her chair inside. When we would get to where we were going, I would pull out the ramps, roll out the chair, lift Chris out of the van and set her in her chair.
I loved doing this. She would wrap her arms around my neck and hold on tight as I carried her from one place to another. It felt so good. I never tired of holding and carrying her, and we would do this several times each day. In the year 2000 I injured my back, and it further damaged an existing problem that I didn't know I had. I became a member of the chronic back pain club. Physical therapy only caused more damage and an operation couldn't help replace the insulation that had been scraped off my sciatic nerve by bone spurs. So the new van would have a lift.
We spent our last evening planning a shake down cruise to Las Vegas, (She loved it there.), we talked about how we would spend the next 16 years, went to bed, made love and dreamed of the wonderful future awaiting us.