It was unbelievably hard for us, yet through it all I believe it is exactly as she wanted it to be.
The rest of that heartbroken day, and the next, have been full of receiving. An avalanche of well wishes on Facebook. Messages of light and love. Messages from Diva on the other side. A kind and gentle reception at the crematorium. Gluten free brownies, a home made card, and a big hug from a dear friend and neighbour. Messages in my dreams.
That was her message. As bright and clear as all the red things that appeared in that dream.
If anyone knew how to love, it was my beautiful Diva girl. She brought out the best in everyone. You could not help but smile and melt when you saw her face.
As we drove out to Oyama to pick up Diva’s ashes, I was thinking of her kisses on my face – I could practically feel them. I thanked her for them, asked her to never stop.
Then I noticed all the dog hair on my jacket and decided I loved it and don’t ever want to be without pet hair, wherever I am (and, trust me, I always have pet hair on me!). Just then I saw hawk. Again.
Hawk has been visiting a lot. And his message is to pay attention to messages. To be open to the communication that arrives from the other side, from other planes, through my intuition. Okay, hawk, I’m listening.
And I feel completely enveloped by this beautiful light and love that is my Diva dog. I don’t know how else to explain it. She is here. I feel her. She is there, too, at the Rainbow Bridge. There she is surrounded by old friends reunited, and new admirers. They are drawn to her light, as we all have been.
She is both. She is forever. And now she is glowing in a small bright bottle in my kitchen window.
She sent me the message, via Bridget Pilloud, that this is how she wants to be remembered. That she didn’t want a goodbye ritual, she wanted an opening-up ceremony. Sounds rather like a receiving ritual, doesn’t it?
She wanted to have water in a brightly coloured bottle, placed in a sunny window. I knew instantly the bottle I needed to buy, the store it was in.
I took a few photos of her bottle, there in the kitchen window. She never cared that the window wasn’t clean, so I guess I don’t need to worry that you’ll see all that dirt. She just wants her bright beauty to shine on.
In the first few photos I saw the bottle, the beautiful light flowing through it.
As I often do, I went back, took more photos, rearranged the pieces on the sill so her bottle is beside the Valentine’s hearts from John.
And then I glanced down and saw the reflection. The light pouring through and casting its own amazing brilliance in a vibrant yellow angel radiating lines of glowing red.
This is what she wanted me to see. And I will see it again and again. And I will try to capture its sublime beauty often.
This is only the beginning. Memorials and rituals have a way of growing, expanding, evolving. Mine will include, in no particular order, cleaning the window and the window sill, ornamenting the bottle with more beads that she guides me to, and possibly I shall have to write her words on the bottle, too.
I will let her guide me, I will let time move at its own pace. I’ll share with you all that happens with Diva’s bottle.
This is an opening up ritual, and it may just be one that doesn’t have a real end.