But more sudden is Ruth. I have known this woman for just shy of 30 years, and not more than a month has gone by, in that time, that I haven't seen her. For years, it was at least once a week. Of recent years, it's more like twice a month, but it's still constant contact. Odd, to realize that when we first met, she was younger than I am now... She's always been sort of an aunt, definitely "family." A little dotty at times (she obsesses on rose bushes, and had a spell as a "cat lady" when she was dealing with some intense things in life, particularly the sudden death of her younger son -fortunately, she's come out of it in recent years).
She'd been feeling a bit tired for a couple months. Last week, she passed out at the market. Tests showed leukemia. I got the word on Thursday evening, right before I was going off to start my Landmark Leader's weekend. It didn't sound promising, but I tried to put it aside. Just before lunch on Sunday, I suddenly came unglued. It was Ruth's situation, and it hit me so hard I was shaking like a leaf. I found out later that she'd had a very bad reaction to chemotherapy, and was unresponsive, at the time I lost it. They brought her back with a transfusion. (She said she was there, but couldn't move, when I talked to her today.) If I was going to break down, at least the Landmarks Leader group is probably the best place it could have happened. I love these people.
I called when I got home last night, and found out the scoop from several people. It could be a day or two, or it could be a week or two, but it's at a point where the final exit is coming. So it looks like this is it. She said she's ready, and George, her younger son, is waiting for her, when we talked today. I told her I think that might also be why Jana visited my dreams a little while back. I will be going to Stanford Hospital, tonight.
In the middle of all this, Chris Phoenix called. He's just back from England/Ireland, and is cutting short the activities he was going to do after his lecture tour finishes to be here on Friday. We don't know if she'll be here still, but we will see. After all, he has a feather of passage from the Morrigan. Seriously. He found a raven feather in Ireland, and something said he needed to take it somewhere. The minute he heard about Ruth, he knew it was for her. I told her about it today, and she says if she isn't here, it's to go under her tombstone. I hope she lasts that long, because he really would like to see her one last time. But she says she's ready...she's so tired. She sounded like it, on the phone.
We enter into the time of transition. A great change is coming, and those whom it will be too hard on are leaving now. Others go ahead of the rest of us. It is a time of passage, and turning of the cycle.
And yet, as Ruth goes on, one of the coming generation enters my life, my spirit-twin, a young man who is almost a new incarnation of myself, in many ways. For the wheel keeps turning. We met earlier this year, and recognized each other instantly, like reflections in a mirror. And now we realize the powerful connection between us. But that is a story for another posting.