Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go and then do it. ~ Ann Landers
Silver Butterfly Wings is a story of transformation, of the many paths and decisions Wendy Willow faced while going through the process of grief. The death of her husband left her utterly shattered, unable to imagine a life without him. Then signs from the other side appeared, filling her with hope: flickering lights, hawks flying overhead, their song on the radio, a butterfly’s silvery wings, a hot spot on his side of the bed. At first she was sceptical. How could her dearly departed be sending signs and messages from across the veil?
"Over time I learned to trust these signs, these gifts from Spirit. There was a reason I was still here. I was meant to go on, to live my life with passion. I was to figure out who I was becoming in this totally different world and trust that life was taking me where I was meant to be. In short, I was to transform - like a butterfly."
It was subtle, this movement, this change, yet there was no mistake. My skin prickled at this slight, yet sudden shift in energy, as if a hidden signal had been given that something important was about to take place.
I looked at David. He was sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling with each breath, yet something was different. The pattern of his breathing, the rhythm was beginning to change.
We had been drifting in a place of hushed quietness, lulled by a lack of activity in our oasis, our safe little space. There was plenty of action in the hallway, but we were removed from that stream of life, as David lay in a coma.
People came and went outside "our" room with schedules to keep, but we had none. We floated as if on a cloud. Clocks ticked away the minutes, but we didn't notice. In those quiet moments, we had no place to go. There was nowhere we had to be.
For a long time there was only drowsiness, as I sat by his bedside holding on to his hand. It was quiet in the room. The only sounds were the soft hiss of oxygen as it flowed into David's face mask. He slept peacefully, unmoving, while I spaced out beside him, as if in a dream, for none of this seemed real. I kept hoping he would wake up, look around and say, "Where's my lunch?" or something of that nature.
But now there was a definite change, a quickening sort of vibration like angel wings stirring the air. It was a little unnerving, as if warning that we were about to be taken to another level. Our peaceful illusion would soon come to an end, as a bold new energy swept in, pushing us forward.
I could sense a hovering, a whirring of wings which made me think of a dozen hummingbirds all gathered around in this room, poised in mid-air as if waiting for instructions from a higher source.
Did I actually see or hear anything? No, it was just a feeling, a sixth sense, an inner knowing, as if Spirit had suddenly entered the room.
It is time now.
Was this David's Spirit? Hovering over him, quivering, looking down on his earthly body one last time? Or something else?
Earthly time is running out. This is my last link, last bit of precious time both in my body and in the air, as I move away from this Earth and onwards to the Light.
The ripples in the air continued, echoing the breathing of a body growing tired. The rhythm had changed to a shallow, quicker pace, as if wanting to accelerate the process, wanting to get on with this sacred journey.
What could I do? My brain was frozen. It came up with nothing. Besides, nothing made sense anyway. I felt like we were being swept along with this invisible force, like a river flowing to the ocean. The ending was inevitable. He was dying, but I could not accept it.
"Please don't go sweetheart," I cried softly, tears beginning to flow down my cheeks.
"Please don't leave this world."
I knew in my heart I shouldn't be saying this. I should be letting him go. I should be encouraging him to leave, to go in peace and with love; to have a safe passage. Yet, I could not. I didn't want him to go!
. . . What are you feeling My Love, I murmured, wishing I could take some of his misery away.
I wanted to put a cold face cloth on his forehead to ease his pain, wanted to change his clothes, shift his position, but I did nothing. Somehow I knew he did not want to be disturbed, did not want to be touched in that way.
He was leaving his body; he needed to let go of it . . .
Something shifted inside me. Instinctively, I knew it was time. I had to begin to let David go.
© 2022 by Wendy Willow
Her studies at The Palmistry Centre and the Institute of Natural Health, Montreal, Canada provided the groundwork for her palm reading/healing career. She opened a bookstore, The Sunflower, in Montreal in 1994, where her palm reading and expressive writing became firmly established. Her first book, Reading Between The Lines was proudly displayed on the shelves.
It was her Intuitive nature, her sensitivity to the Spiritual world that opened her up to recognize and interpret signs and messages from her newly departed husband. This connection to the Spirit world brought Hope, transforming her world from utter darkness and despair to one of courage and inner strength, newfound joy and a love of life once more.
Wendy Willow now resides in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she continues to follow her passions of writing from the heart, reading people, nature walks and photography. Her book, Silver Butterfly Wings is available from the publisher and from wherever books are sold.
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