The Blessing of "Aunties"

I was born in Alaska, and a native grandmother held me in church.  No one else could keep me quiet and content. She chewed the skins and made her last pair of mukluks for me.  I don't even know her name.  But I do know that she loved me.  And I know that we had a past life, in which I was her mother.  She checks in with me occasionally, and often smokes pipe with me.

 When I was two, my parents and I moved to Chicago, where I met Anna Esau.  I would crawl out of bed and totter downstairs to see Anna.  What I loved was that she adored me.  She didn't let me get away with anything, and at the same time she clearly loved me unconditionally.  I remember lots of laughter and cookies. 

One vivid memory is about my hair: it has always been very curly, and at the time, it was strawberry blond curls down to my lower back. People had so often told me my hair was pretty that I repeated it to others.  My mother was appalled and told me I shouldn't say such a thing.  But Anna Esau laughed and told Mom that I was just telling the truth.  I suspect the passersby were amused by it. 

When I was three, I had my tonsils out. I remember it clearly.  First, Mom and I went to the doctor, who took a blood sample.  Then we went to the hospital, and Anna was there.  She was an OR nurse.  I had to have a shot for pre-op. Now, when I was a year old, in Alaska, I had a serious infection and had to have shots.  I didn't like having the shots and wasn't going to let anyone do that to me again!  But . . . Anna was stronger than I, in will power even more than in physical strength.  She gave me the shot.  

She also took me into the OR and was there the whole time.  She helped me through the anesthesia process.  When I woke up I was in my hospital room with Anna right in my line of sight.

Anna had a friend, Freida, and Freida's father living in the apartment with her.  The elderly gentleman was an alcoholic.  Anna's response to that was to give him measured amounts of alcohol to drink - not enough to make him drunk but enough to keep him from painful withdrawal.  This man liked me, and he was also a carpenter.  He made me a toy chest.  It was quite beautiful.

Even when we  moved to a new apartment, Anna Esau was a part of my life.  She took Mom and me to an Estate Sale.  I spotted a beautiful little antique table, and I wanted it.  Anna had seen it too and had intended to buy it and take it home.  Instead, she bought it for me.  It was a long time before I recognized its value.  I was about forty years old when a friend who had worked at Sotheby's told me how valuable it was in money, though I already knew its value in love.

The last contact I had with Anna was a phone call.  It was surreal, partly because I had been asleep.  I had not heard from her in quite a while.  She asked about my parents, whether they were okay.  I told her they were.  Later, I found out they really weren't.  She knew.  My Dad told me that her mission was to keep families healthy - in many ways.  My parents were together for a while after that phone call, but finally they did divorce.  Both remarried.

I will never forget Miss Anna Esau: nurse extraordinaire; truth teller; lover of life; comforter of the little girl I once was.   

A Dog's Life – and Death

My dearly loved dog Shama was two feet tall, 100 pounds of muscle, and fiercely protective, yet she charmed almost everyone she met.  Her best dog friend Coco lived with my friend Lu (whom Shama also adored).  The two dogs ate from the same dish and slept on the same bed.  When circumstances led to Coco coming to the farm for an extended visit, Coco missed her "Mom," but generally was an outgoing and happy dog. 

Then one day I found Shama lying on the floor under the kitchen table whining.  I work with devas and nature spirits regularly, so I connected with them and asked if they could help her.  They indicated they would.  In fact, she had already ceased her quiet whimpering.  They also said no to my inquiry about taking her to the vet.  I talked to a friend who also communicates with animals, and she thought that Shama would be all right.

But by afternoon, Shama's belly was distended and hot, and the vet told me over the phone that expensive surgery was not likely to help.  Soon,  Lu arrived, and Shama laboriously got off the bed and went to her, leaning her massive head against her friend's legs.  Before long, I heard Shama'a death rattle and in minutes she was gone.  I later learned that Shama had gone to the astral plane, where a Native American teacher told her that her work with me was finished.  She was given a choice to stay with me for a brief time, for love, or take on a new job.  She decided to take on a new task.

We did ceremonial pipe over her body, and I heard my teacher in that lineage, Sun Bear, who was already on the other side, laugh at me and say "She's my medicine dog now!"  A friend who was present saw the same teacher, with Shama on one side and his long time companion Samoyed, Shasta, on the other.  Shama had not gone through the bardo, but went right from here to there, accompanied by Shasta. 

Lu made the decision that Coco would stay with me permanently.  For several years, she was my almost constant companion.  No one could replace Shama, yet Coco and I became good friends.  She was already fourteen when she came to me, and beginning to have aches and pains.  I began to talk to her about her choices.  She never understood "death."  When she finally had a severe problem that required surgery, I made the decision for euthanasia.  The vet was very gentle, yet I was devastated.  I knew she was fine – I felt her reach the light, and even heard her comical domination of the much bigger Shama.  She scolded in her sharp Aussie voice, "You didn't tell me where you were going, and I couldn't find you!"

I told my guides I needed a time out and wasn't willing to help any more animals cross over for a long time.  Not only Shama and Coco, but also two friends' dogs, a cat, two horses, a snake, and my own long time cat friend had needed my help within a ten year span.

Then I met Polly and Zoe.  Polly works with animal communication and Reiki, and Zoe was her service dog.  Zoe reminded me in many ways of Coco.  Zoe related to me very gently – licking my hand at one point – yet maintaining a slight but noticeable distance.  In talking to Polly about it, something shifted in me.  Zoe rolled over, exposing her belly and begging for petting and hugging.

Not long after, I met Thomas and his dog Jenny.  Thomas asked if I would create a flower essence blend for him and for Jenny, who had been having seizures.  The seizures had stopped, but she was very weak and lethargic.  Thomas was extremely distraught.

I found that Jenny was ready to die, but was waiting for Thomas to accept it.  The flower essence combination for Jenny was to assist after a paradigm shift – I knew she had already made the transition.  Thomas himself needed a calming essence and one for receptivity.

Also, my friend Shama, who still is definitely a medicine dog, came to me very strongly.  She said she would keep very close to Jenny through this, and take her to the other side when it was time.  Helping other animals who were getting ready to die was her new job.

There was a big gift in this work with Jenny that I did not even recognize at first because it was so obvious.

About 12 years prior a good friend's dog had an inoperable tumor on her pancreas.  She was having seizures 1 to 3 times a day.  Because my friend was too close to the situation to get clear, I often tuned in for her to see what was needed.  The family had long planned a complicated two week vacation with two other families – one of whom had non-refundable airline tickets.  So I dog sat while they were away.

The dog taught me a great deal about allowing – it was her life after all – and not being attached to the outcome.  She had refused to eat until I agreed with this principle, and then she began eating again.  Her family's return date was loose, the hour totally unknown.  But one a day near the date they were due to arrive, she was eager and excited all day.  Finally she insisted on going out front, where we sat on the porch for about 10 minutes until the car drove up.  A week later I was present when she died in her person's arms.  She was the first animal I supported while she was preparing for death.

Her name was Jenny.

Spirit had gently reminded me this was a part of my work and I really could not refuse to do it. 

When Polly asked me why I was taking Coco's death so hard, I realized that it wasn't about the animals.  Though I grieved, I could see them on the other side, and I KNEW they were fine. 

What it was about was stuck feelings/energy from childhood.   During an intense crisis at about age 10, I actually died, and went through the tunnel into the light.  It was so beautiful.  And what I was going through at the time was so horrendous, that I wanted desperately to stay.  But I was told, gently and clearly, that I had work to do, and a long and fruitful life ahead of me. 

Although I had healed much of the trauma around the cause of my near death, I had not processed the feelings and the energy around the death experience itself.  When I worked with animals who died, I saw them reach the light and longed for it myself.  It was too difficult, wanting to be there myself, to help animals reach their destination!

Finally, I have released that as well.  My work of communicating with Spirit and with Nature includes talking to animals, making flower and crystal essences for them, and sometimes helping them and their companions to prepare for their death.  Life is mostly joyful these days, and I am quite happy living my life until it's my time to go to the light.

Check out my web site at www.dragonflyessence.com, or call at (360) 789-9599, or email jackie@dragonflyessence.com.   I am a flower and crystal essence practitioner as well as energy healer (humans and animals) and animal communicator.  I also sells flower and crystal essences and combine them with aromatherapy in sprays.

Another Vulture

The birds and bees have been blessing me lately. Recently I saw another vulture. Actually the first one was an adult Turkey buzzard, which is what we have around here. I have more than once seen a tree FULL of them! The more recent one was a young bird. For one thing, it did not have the red head. It was not an eagle, as it held its wings above its body (like any vulture would) rather than flat horizontal (as any eagle would).

This one showed up as I was in my garden, flew overhead and off to the north. Typical of a vulture, it barely flapped its wings. Yet it soared and dipped and rose again, riding on the thermals. That must be fun!

I feel so blessed by nature, and grateful!