Sorry, for the downer
@spyralout ,, been on my mind. 10 years this week.
He drown in the "Willmore Wilderness Park" chasing goats, with two of my siblings.
My older brother was rescued by helicopter, on one side of the river.
My younger bro attempted a rescue, and ended up on the other side. He ran the 5 miles or so, back to Cache Creek Prison. He had stopped to cut off his wet pant legs -so he could run faster. Amazing that he could source that energy- they had spent five days wet, crouching behind rocks, above the tree-line. I believe only divine adrenalin could have carried him like that. He must have sounded like a moose crashing through that bush. Covered on blood from the waist down , the perimeter guards drew rifles on him, as they thought he was an escaped prisoner. He spent an hour in a cell, while they did a head count.
I spent a week in a stupor, while they searched for his body. Just brain dead. Fasting and praying, for his wife and kids.
On the 8th night ( no shit) , I had a dream of the most riotous white water. The snow was flying sideways, and I could feel the icy spray from the river on my face.
I was huddling with my brothers, on the bank. We could communicate by eye contact, but could not speak.
They became unresponsive, and I remember trying to wrap my arms around them ,to shelter them, as we froze to death.
Suddenly, I was alone.
The howling stopped, the moon began to cast a comforting glow across the now placid, and still water.
I dreamt: I watched the body of my brother , face down, as it came to rest on the far bank.
I recall the comfort that saturated my soul, as I knew I had found him. This is where it gets weird,,,
The moment a began to consider his physical body, I saw it transform- in a glow of blue light.
From the water emerged a glowing blue Royal Elk, ( yup, I had the Petronas dream)
My voice cracked, as I called out
"Rick !"
I immediately felt foolish , trying to cross that line. Not my place.
Without turning, the Stag came full-stop. Lowered his head in full courtsey , and silently continued on his way.
I woke up feeling peaceful. Decided to break the fast. Before my Rye-toast came up , the phone rang.
" They found your brother " my Dad tells me.
A long silence fell after I exclaimed,
" That is great news !".
He thought I was confused, and added,
" He is dead, you know ?"
'Yes', I explained, 'but, I already feel better than I did yesterday'
It was sometime before I realized that my interpretation of the the courtsy was incorrect; and not for me.
It was not a good-bye to me.
It was a convocation.
It was him, seeking acknowledgement and permission, for his entrance, to the realm where he now resides.
Sorry to unload on 'ya folks. Thank You, for the safe venue SS,,seems to be an appropriate place to spool it out. This kind of stuff IS best digested around the table, with a good family and a great meal.