The last time I saw my friend, Tom, was about two weeks ago. We were sitting in an outdoor cafe sipping pomegranate flavored beer listening to the live band across the street. He drew images of the mirror that he was going to build encased in a yin/yang two-tone wooden frame for the wall above his new bed. I had been helping him to decorate his room and we had so much fun throwing around ideas. He loved to build things and we went through his house exploring ideas of projects for him. That evening I made suggestions that sparked new ideas from him.
As we were revising sketches on a newspaper Tom looked up and pointed out a rainbow. I ran around the table to savor the rich colors before they faded into the dusk sky. He insisted that we changed seats so that I could have a better view of the rainbow and the locals dancing to the band. We both admired their lack of inhibition. I said that after five more years of living in Santa Fe I would be dancing like that, too. He said that he never would. I paid for dinner and he promised to pay for our next lunch.
Tom died a week later. I was on top of a cliff with a group of people looking at the huge expanse of lava field below. My phone rang. Cell service on top of a mountain? I answered it and a mutual friend told me that Tom had a heart attack and passed unexpectedly. “What? What are you saying?” The shock was debilitating, almost too impossible to fathom. I sat on a rock trying to get my stability before getting up. I continued on with the group for awhile and then said that I needed to go home. The three people whom I had never met but were passengers in my car wanted to leave also. The one who ended up sitting next to me oddly enough was a man named Tom.
As we were on our way home, going 75 mph on the highway, the dashboard went blank. Not actually blank, it turned white and the speedometer pointer went to zero, although nothing changed in the handling of the car. The speed stayed the same but for about two seconds the dashboard was completely white with no icons or words and the circle inside the speedometer was sky blue. I was really afraid and focused on what to do if I lost control of the car. When it went back to normal, I asked Tom sitting next to me, “Did you see that?!? What just happened?” He saw it and neither one of us had any idea what it was.
I believe that when people pass on they often contact people on this side through electrical signals. Since my friend, Tom, had totally white hair and a white beard, I wondered if that was him. I don’t know. What I do know is that no matter how many friends you have, each person is special and irreplaceable. We hung out together and helped each other – I made suggestions for decorating and he set up a drip system for my plants and hung pictures. I will miss Tom. He was my special friend. I hope that his soul is at peace. The next time I see him, I’ll let him know that he owes me a lunch.
So sorry for your loss. It’s never easy to lose a dear friend ????
Love this. So beautiful!
I truly expect Tom to be paying you more visits, and you’ll know when he does, just like he did in the car. You know alos that love never ends, it just shifts shape.
I have the feeling that if you put your hands in a piece of clay, the two of you will create a masterpiece of love and joy. go ahead and let it flow. Then show me what the love and friendship looks like. (Actually I’m being prodded to write this, he thinks it is exactly what you need to do.) <3
Wow, seriously? I’ll do it, and thanks for relaying the message!
Thank you all for your thoughts and heartfelt comments.