Frank Sinatra and I have something in common. No, our commonality is not an amazingly silky singing voice which through the power of technology has now been immortalized. Although, that would have been nice. To quote the lyrics of Frank’s adopted theme song: “I've lived a life that's full; I've traveled each and every highway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” In doing it “his way”, Frank led a rather unorthodox life filled with women, partying, fame, rumors of Mafia ties, music and “Vegas, baby”.
Fade the music. Lift the glitter of Las Vegas. Bring in the spiritually orchestrated and other worldly conducted life of little ol’ me. I’m sure you can already see the glaring similarities. Well…maybe not, but I like the analogy anyway. Living life my way has been a life of being true to myself and of listening to my inner voice in a way that is often in direct opposition to what is considered “normal”.
To continue in the vein of the lyrics of the famous song “My Way”…“Regrets? I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention. I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption.” If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that it is not the things I have done that have turned out to be of non-exemplary decision making which I’ve most regretted. It is the things in life where I didn’t follow my intuition or, as some would say, the times in which I did not follow my heart, that I most regret. I have found it is much more rewarding in life to try and to do; than to do nothing and wonder…“What if?”
One of those times which stand out most in my mind has to do with having breakfast for dinner. It all began with my waking into awareness one night receiving the thought that I should take my friend, *Alec, to New Orleans.
Alec and I were friends, yes. However, most of all we were business associates who really liked each other. We were confidants of sort, but certainly not best friends or anything ranking into the top ten of the people in each other’s lives whom either of us would call if we were in jail and needed bailed out. We were more the “cocktail and small conversation” type friends.
When he was in town conducting business, we might have lunch or dinner. He might join me at an occasional social event, but not as a date; simply as my “plus one”, so that he might have the opportunity for networking within my home town. I liked Alec. However, the thought of spending anything beyond dinner with him was not even a passing thought. He was simply someone I liked a lot and enjoyed the company of occasionally. He was my business associate. He was my business associated friend.
I have not been a person who has ever overly enjoyed “The Big Easy”. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against New Orleans. The first time I entered the wonderfully eclectic city, I remember thinking that one could almost smell the decadence. The decadence was palpable. I loved the city’s historical significance, beauty and value, but the darkness of the over indulgence tended to make me sort of sad. That’s the downside of being who I am; it makes you hyper-sensitive and a bit of a party poop.
The overlay of unseemly activities and depravity mixed with the historical beauty in New Orleans reminded me of when I had vacationed in Cancun, Mexico. There was the beauty of the incredibly dazzling turquoise ocean’s scenery and the well manicured lovely resorts, surrounded by the poverty and depression of the people in the outlying areas. It was hard to enjoy one without being completely blind or incredibly ambivalent to the other.
It was a bit difficult to enjoy the wonderful historical value of New Orleans without feeling a bit of despair over the abundance of lost souls that seemed to roam the night and sit on the street corners during the day. Of course, the Cajun food and music soothed the threat of an onset of melancholia due to contemplation of the possible mass conspiratorial crime of complacency about the more seedy elements.
No, I neither had desire nor inclination to go to New Orleans nor to add a traveling companion who I was not that comfortable traveling with. Yet, there I was in the middle of the night, having one of my feelings of being pulled to do something that seemingly had nothing to do with me. “Take Alec to New Orleans.”, my inner voice demanded.
I was frustrated with this overwhelming feeling. As I always do in effort to abate or affirm one of those “crazy” feelings of mine, I asked that God and the Universe allow me affirmation by having Alec call me within thirty minutes of my getting out of bed. That might not seem extraordinary, unless you were me and knew that Alec rarely to never called me out-of-the-blue and that I was normally the one to call him because of our business dealings. For me, a random phone call from him within thirty minutes of my awakening would, indeed, be extraordinary and affirming.
The phone rang within eight minutes of my bare feet hitting the cool smooth oak hardwood of my bedroom’s floor. When I answered, it was Alec’s Southern twang on the other end.
Albeit our having a more business than personal relationship, I did know some relevant things about Alec. I knew he was very good-looking. I knew he had more charm than thought out consideration for others. I knew he was the life-of-the-party type of guy and very humorous. I knew he was financially prosperous in a larger way. I knew he was married, yet also separated with an impending divorce on the horizon, and that he had children. I knew he was a bit of a philanderer and had been in a recent extra-marital affair resulting in currently hurting his pride and his psyche.
I had even consulted with him about his philandering ways and how they were going to hurt him. I only did this when he brought it all up to me within asking my advice. I try not to judge anyone, but if they ask my objective opinion, I’m happy to lend them my thoughts and allow them to do what they will. I knew he recently had experienced the ultimate demise of his marriage’s end and that he was now nursing his own broken heart from the affair gone awry, as well.
I did not know how terribly his spirit had been broken. Somehow, his charming persona had left me blind to that important fact.
As Alec and I conversed on this serendipitous phone call, he seemed distressed and depressed. Even though he had brought his troubles upon his own being, I still felt compassion for him. He’s not the only person who has allowed his penis to be his compass and to have had the end result of being led down the wrong path. He won’t be the last. I’ve known women to allow their “penis” to be their compass, as well. Using ones sexual desires as a compass for your life’s path is an age old stigma which is often confused as an answer to a problem. In reality, infidelity within a committed relationship is a symptom; not a solution. It’s often hard to see that in the blinding light of neediness.
Alec’s entire value within the human race was not equal to this one tainted moment of indiscretion and ridiculously bad judgment. That is what I knew for sure. Oh yes, then, there is that glass house I live in; at which I do not desire having stones thrown. I try not to throw stones at others’ glass houses for fear the glass shards will cut me, as well.
As I was listening to his angst, I suddenly said, “Alec, my friend, Paul, has an art show coming up in New Orleans. Even though he really wanted me there, I wasn’t going to go. But, why don’t we both go? It would tickle him to death for us both to be there.”
There was not even a pregnant pause of thought. Then, Alec simply said, “Yes.”
Strange things happen in this world. The things that happened within and around this trip are truly some of the strangest of phenomena and most miraculous of events I’ve been blessed to be witness of and partaker in. The way the Universe opens up paths to us and presents the opportunities needed for us to fulfill a deed or to walk though a new door when another has just been slammed on our foot, causing us great pain, never ceases to boggle my mind.
Alec checked his calendar. He couldn’t be available to go on the trip in time to allow us to arrive the Wednesday of the opening for my friend’s art show. If I was going to New Orleans, I needed to be there for the opening or my artist friend would be very disappointed. Plus, if I was going to be there after all (I had previously told my friend I could not be there.); I wanted to be able to help with the opening. I was struggling with the fact that Alec couldn’t leave until Friday and how I was going to tell my artist friend that I might not be able to make the opening, but that I would be there to see his first public display a few days later, after he had already returned to his own home.
Four hours later, as I was thinking about what I could do, the phone rang again. This time it was my friend who was having the art show. I hadn’t yet called Paul to tell him I was going to try to come to his art show after all, because I was dreading telling him that I still wouldn’t make the opening. The opening was a really big deal to him and I had already sorely disappointed him by previously telling him that my schedule did not allow for me to make it. Before I could call him, here he was calling me.
I remember almost being struck speechless when I found out the intent of Paul’s call. He wanted to know if I could come to his art show opening if I didn’t have to be in New Orleans until Saturday, instead of the Wednesday originally set for the opening. He had gotten a singing gig in New Orleans and the art dealer had agreed to move the opening of his show to Saturday to coincide with his music gig.
Uh...problem solved.
[NOTE: I often wonder why I don’t have some sort of background music…you know, bells ringing softly, harps playing, etc., during these events. It would, after all, make them seem much more credible, in a BIG WOW!! kind of way. Just a thought, incase while I’m writing this anyone “up there” is listening.]
I told Paul that the change to Saturday would make it perfect for me to be there and that I would be bringing Alec with me, as well. He was delighted. I hung up the telephone receiver and sat for quite awhile in a state of a sort of glazed over shock and wonderment.
No question about it. Alec and I were heading to New Orleans that Friday.
Until recent years, I haven’t always shared these bizarre events with a great amount of people. However, I do have a friend or two with a similar powerful connection (or screw loose; depending on how you look at it) to the spiritual part of themselves and the Universe as I have whom I’ve always like to sort of bounce things off of. You know, simply to sort of get a “How crazy is this, really?” gauge on the situation.
One of those friends is a fairly well known professional psychic in New York. I’ll respect her privacy by not mentioning her name. She’s different than I am in that she specifically works with murder cases and missing people. She even has the proverbial “red phone”. You know the one. It’s kind of like the Bat-phone that Batman had in his cool cave. However, this one isn’t connected to the mayor of Gotham City calling and a Batman warning light doesn’t go up over the city when it rings. I think she’s still working on getting that. Okay…okay…and the phone isn’t actually red. However, that line is free standing and is connected directly to the FBI, which is kind of cool in itself.
I called her and told her about the odd events of the day and how they had culminated into my agreeing with the Universe to take this trip and take along Alec. I was still amazed at the change in timing so that it would be perfectly timed and how quickly that had all manifested.
Just when you’re having a “WOW!” party, someone has to crash it and tell you that there may not be enough champagne to go around. She listened to me and was also amazed, but then she stopped me and said, “Carolyn, do you have a red car?”
Well…uh…yes, I did. We had never discussed the color of my car before and I was wondering why this had sudden significance.
She continued, “Honey, I’m afraid you’re going to have an automobile accident. It is going to happen when you and Alec turn off to go to a restaurant that he suggests you go to on the way to New Orleans. It will be off of Hwy. 10 in a small town. You’ll be starting to stop at a light and a car will side swipe you and your car will be greatly damaged even though you and Alec will be okay. I just wanted to forewarn you.
Great. There went a happy conversation in one blink of a red car wreck. I asked her if she knew a way to prevent it. She answered that she didn’t know how; sometimes those things just happen. She assured me that it wasn’t a wreck that was my fault. She said that my driving was fine. It simply was going to be someone else not paying attention.
I told her that if she didn’t have an answer I was going to find one. Between going to New Orleans (where I didn’t want to go) with Alec (who I had no real reason to take) for some unexplained reason…I simply could not add a car wreck into the mix. My life and this trip were complicated enough. I didn’t even have the finances to be going on a trip like this on a whim.
It’s Friday. I’m driving to Little Rock, Arkansas. I’m going to pick up Alec on my way to New Orleans. I was so worried about the possibility of the ensuing car accident that I had not slept well the night before. I was in deep thought about all that and I said out loud, “God, I cannot stand to have this car wreck. Please show me how to prevent it!”
And I got an answer. “Alec. Cracker Barrel. Breakfast for dinner.”
Excuse me? That’s it? What the [expletive deleted] did that mean?!!?
Okay…okay…I’ll keep that in my brain. Whatever. The other thing I got was, “Change the circumstances and you’ll change the outcome.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it made more sense than the “Alec. Cracker Barrel. Breakfast for dinner.”
We use the term “broken spirit” without much thought. Often I hear someone say this or that “broke the person’s spirit”. Or, someone will say, “They have a broken spirit.” in reference to someone who they feel is past depressed and has recessed into a kind of dark abyss. I have even thought at times that I had seen someone who looked as if their spirit was “broken”. It’s a common enough phrase.
There was nothing common about what I saw when Alec walked out of his apartment to greet me. Anything I had previously known or thought I knew about a broken spirit paled in comparison to what I saw when I saw my friend. My eyes immediately welled up with tears. He didn’t even look like the man I had known, seen laugh, seen flirt…had seen so full of life for nearly seven years. If someone had looked up the definition of “broken spirit”, I had no doubt that beside it you would have seen the one word, “Alec.”
I quickly tried to gain my composure from my shock and hugged him. He was ready to leave and had his bags on the outside landing of his apartment. He threw his bags in my car as if he was desperate to escape. His level of intensity overwhelmed me with equal amounts of sympathy and compassion. This man was suffering.
We pulled over at a local Applebee’s about ten minutes from where he lived to eat lunch. I didn’t say anything to him about it, but I felt that I needed to recompose myself. I knew he was in angst, but nothing had prepared me for this. While I was in the bathroom, and while this is hard to explain or write in words that would give complete understanding, I was “overwhelmed with the life of Alec”. I could “see” clearly his course.
While I had known a tiny bit about Alec’s current affair; I knew almost nothing of the details. I didn’t consider it my business and unless he desired my knowing more. I wasn’t one to intrude. In that moment of quiet bathroom time in Applebee’s, I “saw”…I “knew”…I “understood”.
Alec had always known of my “gift” for seeing beyond or knowing things that didn’t add up to my being able to know. He had always dismissed them as strange coincidences. That’s easy to do, given that with the exception to my anomaly, in almost every other way I’m ridiculously normal. I didn’t mind his skeptical attitude at all.
Being me means I have to understand that others are not only going to be skeptical, but a lot of people are going to think I’m…well…”nuts”. That fact stopped bothering me years ago. While I don’t flaunt my extracurricular knowledge, I also don’t deny it and off and on I would say this or that to Alec which against odds had come true. This occasionally made him stop and pause at the possibility. However, I had never tried to prove anything to him. I don’t do that with anyone. I know who I am. That’s enough for me.
I also knew that it was extremely important for Alec to take what I was about to tell him seriously. It wasn’t going to be easy. Yet, I realized that Alec’s spirit was at stake. What I was being shown was to help him heal. It was up to him to listen and believe.
Our journey started when I sat back down at the table and said to him, “Is the name of the woman you’re having an affair with *Elaine?” The shock in his eyes and the tea spewing out of his mouth told me that I was correct. Given that I do not live in his town and the woman was not someone that I could have possibly known, his eyes started opening.
As we chatted, Alec admitted to me how he had not even desired to go on this trip. He had felt as if he was unable to say “No.” and had simply said “Yes.”, without real thought. It was like a reaction rather than an action. We spoke about his angst and I revealed to him many things that I saw about his life in the past and his mistakes therewith, as well as what I saw going forward. He listened more and more intently as the things being revealed were undeniably truth. He was practically in a state of shock.
Suddenly, he got up and said, “Let’s get going.” I sort of reluctantly got up, because I was still worried about my friend’s prediction about the car accident. By the way, I hadn’t seen a Cracker Barrel in the area I was in with Alec. I was a little wary as I walked towards my red vehicle. Just as we started to get in, Alec looked at me and asked, “Would you mind if I drive?”
Let me explain something. I hardly ever…I mean almost never, do I allow someone to drive me. This is not a control issue. I have severe motion sickness and sometimes even if I’m driving I will get nauseated. If someone else is driving, most assuredly, I’m going to get ill. Most people in my life know this about me and simply allow me to drive. If I’m not driving, I’m sleeping. This is because the medication that allows me to keep from regurgitating all over the floorboard makes me terribly sleepy. I’ve missed a lot of scenery on trips with my family or friends from sleeping through it.
Oh, yes…remember, as well, I’m looking at a guy who is in such emotional angst and turmoil that he looks as if he can’t walk. He doesn’t look like the ideal candidate for a safe driver. I momentarily hesitate and then I internally heard, “Change the circumstances and you’ll change the outcome.” I remembered the thought from earlier that morning. Suddenly, it was clear that my psychic friend had predicted the car wreck with me sitting in the driver’s seat. I could change that right now. I threw Alec the keys to my car and got in the passenger seat. I found my motion sickness pills and popped them into my mouth.
While it seemed as if time had come to a complete stop, as we drove, the lush green of the South’s lower lands sped by us at lightening speed. Alec and I remarked on how it felt as if we were simply being transported because time seemed to simply disintegrate and not really exist. Alec listened as I had information flow through me to him that was unimaginable to his mind. At one point he said, “I still find this hard to believe.” There’s got to be an explanation for this.
I told him to please not ask for more or it could really get creepy for me. I hate it when that happens. He asked what I meant by that statement. I looked at him and said, “Don’t make me tell you about something sexual that no one but you or your lover could know, because as soon as you asked for more proof, I saw something I do not want to say out loud.”
He looked at me incredulously and said, “What in the world could you be shown that way? Surely, what you call God would not show you anything nasty.”
I looked at him and got kind of sick at my stomach (and embarrassed) and said, “I was just shown that she doesn’t ever wear panties, so that you can have her anytime you want her, even somewhat publicly.”
Alec almost wrecked the car. We nearly didn’t have to wait for the town still looming ahead of us to bring about the potentially impending gloom and doom of crunching metal. He pulled over and looked as if he was going to faint. With tears threatening to run down his handsome face, almost in a whisper, he said, “You’re telling me the truth.”
I grimaced and said, “Yes. And, I hope you’ll believe me now! Please, don’t make me go through that again. Yuk!! Dude, that was way too much information!”
[NOTE: I just can’t seem to quite get into the marvel of the moment when someone is shocked at what’s just come out of my mouth. I always have to make them laugh to lighten the heavy moment.]
Then, Alec told me something I most certainly did not know and which he had not told anyone else. He told me how, in his high school days, a chain of events had made him renounce God. He told me that for years he had basically done whatever he wanted and as he pleased because he didn’t want God in his life. He had been angry with God for years.
I sat in shocked silence. You see, I see people’s higher spirit. To me, Alec was a man of somewhat questionable character within a moral turpitude stand point, but I had never seen him as someone who was evil or not of God or higher spirit. I knew that he attended church (which I found out he did for his wife), so I had not questioned his beliefs one way or another. I had merely presumed that if he visited a church, that he must have thought there was something to the religion and the concept of there being a God. Oddly, I rarely attend church and have a very close connection to God. Life’s interestingly paradoxical that way.
I’ve never felt it was my place to question another’s belief. I believe we should not be preachers; however, we should all be teachers. Even preachers should not preach. Preachers should teach. My only task at hand is to live my own beliefs and convictions. Through the actions within my life, I feel the testament to what I believe will be revealed and those whom I touch, in one way or another, can draw their own conclusions about how they feel in reaction to my life.
Up to this point, I had only seen Alec as a man with a huge heart and a lifestyle that seemed questionable as far as how it affected him and others within his circle of love and family. I certainly did not wish to judge him. I was not living in his shoes. I had seen how kind he could be and knew that his kindness was a huge part of his innate being. His estrangement from God was quite a surprise. All of this new revelation was brought to light over a pair of missing panties.
Mysterious ways. Indeed.
Within that amazing moment, without a word spoken or a ritual rendered, somewhere between Little Rock, Arkansas and New Orleans, Louisiana, Alec shook God’s hand and welcomed Him back into his heart.
This is somewhat a story about a man’s return to God and his own spirit’s healing, however, the devil is in the details…
I’ve had many times where I was sent to someone or they were sent my way to help heal their spirit. This is not about me coming in like gang busters and announcing their plight if they do not take flight, but merely through allowing events to unfold and “showing up”. I’m not the light. I’m simply holding the candle. That trip with Alec was unbelievable even to my unusually phenomena filled life.
We drove along companionably. Alec seemed to be having one epiphany after another. I felt so honored to be witnessing what was happening for him. It was as if he was opening up his spirit to his own truth. Before we knew it, we were nearing the junction where we would turn off on Hwy. 10 for the city of New Orleans. I had sort of nervously (and without mentioning my angst to Alec…he had enough angst of his own) been watching for Cracker Barrels along the way. Alec had not mentioned a word about Cracker Barrel. Well, after all, it was sort of a crazy thing to “hear”. Still, the closer we came to the area my psychic friend had mentioned, the more anxious I was inside. I really didn’t want that wreck to happen.
About fifty miles outside the junction where we would turn, Alec said, “Hey, I know this great little seafood restaurant about ten miles off the road from where we have to turn. It’s in a little town there and the food is fabulous. Why don’t we go there for dinner?”
Oh boy. There it was. Just as my friend had predicted, Alec was suggesting the small town seafood restaurant that was off of Hwy. 10. Inside my stomach did a flip flop. I answered, “Sure. That would be great.” I didn’t want to freak Alec out anymore with my own “psychic stuff”, and besides, he was driving instead of me. Perhaps that change in circumstance would be enough.
It seemed like we zoomed through those next fifty miles and were nearing the turn Alec was talking about. I mentally held my breath, as we were about to make the turn.
Alec suddenly said, “Hey, Carolyn. How about we pull over at that Cracker Barrel and have breakfast for dinner?”
Holy turnip greens, Batman!! I hadn’t even seen a Cracker Barrel sign nearby and up to this point must have spotted fifteen along our way.
Trying not to sound dumbfounded, I asked, “Where is it?”
Alec pointed over to the side and behind another building. “It’s right over there behind that building. Don’t you see the sign?”
No. I hadn’t seen the sign. I hadn’t seen the sign that was my “sign”.
My favorite food is seafood. I had been really looking forward to having seafood and my taste buds were all prepared for it. I had no taste for breakfast for dinner at the Cracker Barrel. I normally would have suggested we go ahead and drive the extra miles and eat seafood.
I looked at Alec and smiled. “Breakfast at the Cracker Barrel for dinner would be perfect.”
We easily made it to The Big Easy. No car accident.
Alec had an unbelievable weekend. Epiphany after epiphany came his way for understanding and his future possibilities. Since the flow through of information within this kind of connection depletes my energy, I was pretty depleted; more than I believe I ever had been before or since. What I hadn’t grasped was the larger impact this strange mystical weekend was having. In fact, I wouldn’t find that out for several months. There are some things which you should not be shown about the future.
When I am “sent” on these odd adventures, since I’ve always been horrible with finances and seem to give away more than I make, I am often not financially prepared for them. In my unusually lived life, money shows up in the oddest ways. This was one of those times. Of course these events of seemingly magical money appearing out of nowhere when I need it , is also some of how I am reassured that I’m “listening to my inner voice correctly” and know what I know. It’s the kind of event that gives me affirmation that I’m on the right path doing the right thing.
On this particular trip, I was a bit concerned about how I was going to pay my hotel bill. Alec was paying for his own bill. I’m sure he would have paid mine, as well, but I didn’t want to ask because I was the one who had invited him to go on the trip with me.
Alec loves to gamble. He had even jokingly asked if I could predict the future in a way that would allow for winning money. I told him that the “gift” didn’t work that way, although on occasion I did “know” that I was going to win something or that a certain team was going to win a football game unexpectedly or something like that. He decided he wanted to go to Harrah’s and gamble, even if I couldn’t “cheat” with my gift.
In contrast to Alec’s love for gambling, I don’t normally go to gambling places. I have been led to go in one a very few times, but, normally with purpose or I’m simply there in connection to someone else going. Suddenly, I “knew” that I was to go with him. I looked at him and told him to go over to the slot machines and play the ones I pointed to. In thirty minutes he had won over a thousand dollars playing the slots when I told him and stopping when I told him to stop. He went to cash in and when he came back he handed me a wad of money. I looked at him and asked what it was for. He said that it was my part for helping him. When I looked at the amount he had handed me, it was the amount of my hotel room for my stay there.
Yes…yes…mysterious ways.
Yes, Alec was having a lot of epiphanies. However, many times when people have those through an experience with me, they often have what I refer to as the “funeral effect”. Haven’t you noticed at funerals how people are overcome with loving thoughts and well wishes? Suddenly, the friend or family member whom they’ve hated on in life becomes their most beloved sainted soul as soon as they are dead. People who have not seen each other in years promise to see each other and for things to be different. In that moment they change…that is until they get home away from the energy of the funeral.
Within one episode of LAW AND ORDER; while insulting the singers on AMERICAN IDOL; in one bad traffic moment; within angst over a child behaving badly…one moment of reality within their own perceived energy and they are back to square one. The funeral epiphanies and promises magically disappear as if they never happened.
That was my fear for Alec. I was afraid the trip to New Orleans would have the “funeral effect” and that once he was back in his own energy he’d have epiphany amnesia and all would be lost.
The Universe had a lesson waiting for him in regards to that.
Paul’s art show was that Saturday night. Alec told me he thought he’d take some time to be alone and think while I went to the opening of the art show. He had already been to the gallery and had seen Paul and Paul knew our friend was in great angst. If Alec and I weren’t great friends before, we certainly had a whole new level of friendship now. Now, we were all in this together. I told him I wouldn’t be offended at all and to take time to do whatever he desired. In my mind’s eye, I knew that he would end up at Harrah’s. He had another lesson to learn.
The lesson: “What you gain, if you’re not careful to cherish it and hold it near, you can lose.”
The next morning Alec told me that he had lost everything he had won when we were at Harrah’s the Friday night before. I didn’t even have to say it. He looked at me and said, “I know why. I was being shown that if I don’t remember and take heed that I can lose all I’ve learned by returning to my old ways.”
I love it when someone gets their own epiphany! It helps free me up to live my own life, which gets rather neglected at times. I was proud of Alec.
We drove home with ease and Alec did seem like a new man. You could physically see the difference in him. His spirit was starting to heal. He may have only been stitched up, but it was a start to having the wound close and to a complete healing. I was so glad I had listened to the Universe, which enabled me to be blessed to have witnessed what had happened for him. I was so grateful.
For several weeks I was quite ill from the effects of this journey. Whether someone is helping another heal physically or spiritually, it can be quite draining. At times, I’ll admit, I wondered if Alec would change permanently or if he would continue his previous self-destructive philandering ways. What I know for sure is that I can only help through giving another opportunity to change. It is not my job to save them.
Three months later, I knew how worthwhile my time had been to the fullest degree. Alec called and asked me to meet him for dinner. He said he wanted to talk to me. It sounded serious.
It was.
Up until our dinner that night, I had not seen Alec since our time in New Orleans. Greeting me with his bright smile, he hugged me in a way that said, “Thank you.”, I sat down at the table of the restaurant. We ordered our dinner and a glass of wine. He told me that what he was about to tell me was very difficult for him and asked that I bear with him. I had never seen him so serious and focused. Suddenly his eyes glazed over with unshed tears and he took my hand.
“Carolyn, this is very hard for me to tell you, but I feel like I owe it to you. I have something to tell you that you don’t know about that weekend. I couldn’t tell you at the time, because I didn’t have the strength. Now I think I do have the strength.”
Unable to imagine what he was about to say, I comfortingly patted his hand.
“The weekend we went to New Orleans, I had told you that I couldn’t leave until Friday. You see, I had plans for that weekend and it was going to take me the week to get all I needed done. After we spoke about going, I was surprised that I had even said yes to going. But, when I got off the phone with you, I realized a few more days wouldn’t really matter.”
His voice choked and, once again, I reached out and took his hand. The wine had arrived and he stopped and drank some down. I told him to take it slowly.
When he regained his composure he continued. “I spent the week getting my will finished, my things in order, letters written and all that I felt needed done finished. I took a gun and loaded it. I put all of my papers and my letters beside my bed with the gun on top. I had planned to shoot myself the weekend of the trip to New Orleans. Because you were willing to ask me to go and because of what happened on that trip, I didn’t shoot myself. I came back and I started healing. I started my new life. Now, I know that no matter how hard it is, I want to live. I can make it. You did that for me. I wanted to thank you. I thought you deserved to know just how bad it was and how much you turned things around for me. I’m sorry it took me three months to be able to tell you this. It was a very hard thing for me to admit.”
I told him that I was so happy that he was alive because now I had him as my friend in a deeper way and he was important to me. I was quite in shock at the depth of his angst. I was also unbelievably touched. I’m sure the restaurant workers were thinking he had broken my heart because tears were streaming down my face.
I then told him that, while I appreciated and accepted his thanks, that I really had very little to do with what had happened to him. I had simply been willing to answer the phone.
That trip was a large affirmation of how important it is to step up to others plates, even when we don’t know in full the reason why. Sometime a feeling will just tug at us. I believe that is the Universe tugging at us to help each other. I have found that listening to the smallest of details can create amazing miracles. I didn’t have to know Alec’s full plight…that he was ready to commit suicide. That would have probably made me take a whole different course than the one I did. I only knew that I needed to take him to New Orleans. That was all I needed to know. The rest unfolded just as it needed to on its own time.
Sometimes preventing a major catastrophe can be as simple as having breakfast for dinner.
*In the interest of privacy, while this story is true, some of the names have been changed.