Unsettling Intuition


How beautiful the world was in my little space and place of open land yesterday!  Over 60 degrees, yet it felt warmer as the sun shined brightly from a “Something Borrowed” bridle blue sky.  Not a sound in the forest beyond the edge of my leaf covered yard except for a slight hammering.  A red-headed wood pecker was seen high in a tall limbed tree.  Very close-by.

Last week, a dark pall began to fall over me.  Much like a shroud over my head, it was hard for me to view streaks of light through clouds of darkness.   I wondered, was it the time of year or perhaps the weather?  My writing took twists and turns, finally veering off to take a sudden fork in the road.  I had a sense of intuition about me that I couldn’t put my finger on.  So unsettling it was that I focused doubly hard on remaining positive with my words.

This past weekend, I learned of the death of one of my cousins who was very close in age to me.   Tragically, he was found by his older sister a week ago today.  As a child, I remember our families coming together for great big holidays.  We shared roasted turkey legs at Thanksgiving, rang twinkling silver bells for Santa Clause, and chased each other through my grandmother’s beloved scented rose garden.  In my early twenties, my cousin used to ride his prized motor cycle up from lower Michigan to visit my family in Bay City, always stopping by with a great big smile.  Sometimes, one or more of my sisters were ready to hop on the back of his bike for a quick ride around our small town before he drove off, freely into the sunset.

Last Monday, was the very day I began to feel an uneasiness about me.  The exact day my intuition became unsettling.  My family, although truly blessed has been struck by several different Chronic Conditions.  Many of my posts are filled with references to them since I began writing here on WordPress.  My cousin’s sweet mother was one of my father’s three older sisters who was diagnosed with a very rare neuromuscular disorder at the peak of her young motherhood.  A magical saint, I wrote of her in a post entitled, The Memory Journal http://wp.me/p41md8-pF.  Her son suffered from a different malady.  It hardly seems important now.  He struggled, he had demons and yet  he tried so very hard to conquer them.  He was on his way…

My heart truly breaks for the surviving matriarch of my cousin’s family.  His only sister who must once again shuffle through yellowed papers while picking up pieces from a grey file cabinet only recently shut tight in order to say, “Good-by.”  How she bears all things I do not know.  In the last  few years she has buried her mother and her youngest brother together with her father.  Now, she takes on the burden of losing another sibling.  I pray for God to give  her the strength she needs in the coming days and weeks together in the years ahead.

Bless you dear cousin.  No more struggles.  No more fighting.  No more inner pain or demons tearing you apart.  Your family holds you warm and close together with God in Heaven.  Rest in peace for all eternity.

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