I woke up very early. It was still dark. I went outside into my garden and stood skyclad under the light of the waning Moon. I whispered, “Take what you must, leave what you will. The peace of the Goddess shall remain in my heart, mind and soul.”
I was to be at the hospital by 9:30, not having had anything to eat or drink since 11:00 the night before. By 6:00, I was dying for a cup of tea. My mother arrived at 8:30. I love my mother dearly, but she can be difficult. She is usually at her worst when she feels she needs to compete with other people for love and attention or when someone she loves endangered. This was going to be that sort of scenario. Chuck, Lisa and Sean, and my spirit daughter Ellen, were going to be there, and were prepared to deal with anything she could throw at them.
Chuck is my soul mate. We have been married for twenty-five years in this life, but I suspect we really have been together since the Big Bang. We complement each other by being totally incompatible and are the perfect example of the attraction of opposites. He is the emotional member of our relationship, and is a left-brainer. I am cool and logical, and a right-brainer. That may sound contradictory, but it's an accurate description.
Our motley crew arrived at the hospital and Chuck immediately took over all the paperwork, organization, and coordination. I would actually have killed for a cup of tea. At this point, everything becomes rather muddled, and I don't really remember too much about that morning. I was staying in an Alpha state, keeping a high endorphin level and conscious contact with the Goddess. I remember everyone massaging my feet and hands, and laughing and telling jokes. The fear was there, but seemed very remote. Finally, I went to the operating room. My last thought was, “Suppose the anesthetic doesn't work?”
It did.