Does it mean anything?
One morning last week at the unearthly time of 5.30, the telephone rang.
Is it the hospital where my darling partner is?
Is it a call from overseas?
‘Hello, is that you Bobby?’
‘This is your cousin Richard in Canberra. Mum passed away early this morning.’
‘I sorry to hear that, what was the cause?’
‘She was 98, basically she was worn out and everything just shut down.’
‘I haven’t been in touch with her for over four years because of her dementia.’
‘She hasn’t known any of us for the last two years. Anyway, Lyndsay and me were with her when she died, it was peaceful.’
‘Thanks for letting me know. I’ll put a piece in The Canberra Times and this evening I will drink a toast in her honour. I’ll also light a candle and evoke ‘The Angels of the valley’ to assist her spirit to travel peacefully through it. It’s 5.30 here – you forgot W.A. is three hours behind you. Bye, I’m going back to sleep.’
Before I went back to sleep I remembered a dream I had earlier that night. In it one of my Aunt’s daughters (who died about five months ago) was giving me a big hug.
My brain started going through all sorts of brainastics, around the question
“Is there an energy which survives our physical death?”