A STORY OF LOVE FROM MY FIFTH BOOK TO DATE SACRED SOUL
When you look back on your life, it is often a kaleidoscope of colorful and fond memories of interesting situations and people you met along the way. My friend Tarawas part of this collection of beautiful and interestingfriends I have had in my life’s journey. We first met years ago at a performance art school, when I was interviewing potential women for a rock band I was trying to put together for a music project at the time. The band didn’t last long and we all went our separate ways but Tara had a huge impact on me during my younger years and I often thought of her as some kind of creative angel who had descended upon me at a very lonely time in my life.
Many years later, Tara rang me up out of the blue. She happened to be in town at the time, visiting family with her musician husband, Johnny. It was great to hear from her again, but when I questioned her about her situation, she said her life had been a roller coaster of emotion as all the men she had serious relationships with had ended up passing away prematurely, and now her current husband, Johnny, was also terminally ill. “Maybe it’s my spiritual contract to work with people who are coming to the end of their lives. “ She said wryly. “Just call me The Sexy Black Widow.”Her husband, Johnny was from the deep south of America; he was well over six feet tall, towering over the tiny Tara. To add to his cowboy appeal he wore a cowboy hat on his head and had an enormous grin on his face, with big white teeth that never stopped smiling. When he spoke, he had a loud, booming voice but was very laid back, extremely well mannered and very funny. His infectious, loving personality made us all instantly relax and I could see why she loved him. Within no time we were all chatting and laughing away like really old friends, with Johnny scolding Tara repeatedly about not introducing us years before. “How could I,” Tara protested. “We were always travelling with your band!”
Everyone loved Johnny, but it was clear that his cancer was taking its toll. After a while he began to open up about how the illness was affecting him. “It’s giving me the shits, to be frank with y’all.” He told us matter-of-factly one evening after dinner. “I know I haven’t got long to go, so we came to Sydney to make the most of what time I have left. I really want to see your Bondi Beach and maybe catch a few of your rock bands here. Tara tells me they are terrific.” “You should have heard Kerrie, she was really good.” Tara replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. I shook my head, deflecting the compliment and then Johnny turned to me and gave me a serious look.
“Tara says you are a healer and speak to the spirit world. Would you be able to do that for me?”
I nodded and leaving Tara chain smoking on my verandah, I took Johnny into my healing room. I covered him gently with a warm blanket and explained that I would help in the very best way possible by giving him spirit energy, through my hands that would go into all the cells in his body. The healing spirit energy, from the source of love, would sooth him and later helped him with the transition on his journey into the spirit world. As I gave him the healing he wept softly, telling me how much he loved Tara and how unfair it all seemed.
“We’ve had so little time, you know.” He said, weeping.
I let his emotions release and as the healing light began to soothe him his tears stopped and he looked at me in wonder. He could feel the presence of his mother and father, both passed, there in the room with him. Able to fully relax he soon fell asleep, exhausted, and happy and content to just let the healing energy do its thing. To me it felt that he was just relieved that both his parents were with him now in spirit and that he was not alone. His transition would be easier now when it was his time to cross over at his own untimely death. As soon as I had I finished the healing, he opened his eyes and thanked me again.
“I never thought I would feel my parents again, but they were really here. I know I’m not going to do this on my own.” Suddenly he looked up at me and grasped my hand. “You’ll look after Tara, when I go, make sure she’s all right?” He asked, his concern for his wife evident in the emotion of his voice. “Of course,” I promised and Johnny relaxed and got up from the table looking better than I had seen him since his arrival with Tara. Unfortunately though, I had the distinct feeling that the next time I would talk to him would be when he was in the spirit world.
Not long after, as predicted, Tara sadly rang me from Darwin, where they had been living, and told me Johnny had passed and that they had already had the funeral. She seemed ok when we spoke but said she felt drained, as she was exhausted from all the well-wishers and fans that kept trying to contact her all the time. As we spoke I felt Johnny’s energy and within seconds I began to hear Johnny’s American twang again, talking very clearly in my ear. He wanted Tara to know how grateful he was for all she had done for him and compliment her on a beautiful funeral.
Johnny also mentioned the beautiful poem Tara had written herself and had read out that day to the congregation. The message helped Tara come to terms with Johnny’s passing and a few weeks later she called again to ask me if I would fly up to help her clear the home of all his things as this would help her move on, just like Johnny had asked me to do when we had the healing session. As soon as I got off the plane and onto the tarmac, I could feel the humid waves of Darwin’s hot sticky heat hitting my body. Tara was waiting by the arrivals, yelling my name as she smoked and jumped wildly up and down like an excited little schoolgirl, not noticing the heat at all.
Once back at her home many of her friends and before met us too long the house was filled with laughter, dance and music. Soon though, I began to feelrun down from the draining heat, partying and drinking. I knew Tara wanted to be with all her friends during her grief process, to help her get over Johnny, but I found it all too much as Tara and her intoxicated friends danced wildly around the rooms every single night.
It also did not help that I was in Johnny’s old room. I felt his presence very strongly and kept hearing his voice, talking to me as soon as I got into his old bed. At first I pretended to ignore him, but he was very persistent and would not go away until I promised to tell Tara everything he said, which was very annoying. Every time I would go into the room to sleep I could feel his spirit presence begin to build up in the room again, waiting to give me more orders. He was a nice guy, when he was alive, but his constant talking and still trying to control things when he was dead was really starting to get to me.
Each morning as we sat and had our coffee on the veranda, surrounded by the tropical trees, I would give Tara the latest update on what he had said. At first she was happy as usual to hear he was ok and started to cry but by then end of the week she became annoyed and began to complain that he was being bossy again, just like he was when he was alive. When I told Tara it was time for me to go, she said she understood but made me promise that I wouldcome back again for a visit. Waving goodbye at the airport,my spirit guide, White Feather, told me that I would not see her again for a long time. He was right of course, because she is now living back in her beloved homeland of Africa.