Do You Hear Me?

The morning was cool and it felt great to throw on a sweatshirt as I left the house for my daily jog.  I couldn’t find my headphones and was mildly irritated; I needed the motivation of listening to Blaine and Allyson of 96.3and their banter to get my jog on and so without that I thought I would just take a quick brisk walk.Even though it was a Tuesday, all was quiet in the neighborhood with a passing jogger here and there. We would exchange a silent smile or a wave to one another. As I rounded the park near my home, I got a terrible cramp in my leg and began to panic – I had left my phone at home seeing as I couldn’t find my headphones. What if I couldn’t get home? I leaned up against a large oak tree home to a squirrel who was laughing at me, when I noticed movement on the metal park bench. An elderly man with mussed up gray hair sat there with a crisp white dress shirt, dark gray slacks and a suit jacket lying across his lap. Next to him sat a beautiful woman with a pink scarf wrapped around her head, a light blue sweatshirt with Grandmastitched on it and wearing blue jeans. But this man wasn’t looking at her – he just stared forward and sobbed.“Peg, how could you? How could you leave me?” he wailed.

Tears immediately poured down my face as I realized that he was dressed for Peg’s funeral.

“You said you would live, Peg. You said you would make it,” he continued, anger and sadness pouring out with each word. “Do you hear me? Do you even hear me?”

The woman sat there with her hand on her husband’s left leg. I could tell by her aura that she hadn’t crossed over yet. Her energy ached with sadness, yet was relieved of the physical pain she had endured for so long.

She looked over at me, knowing that I could see her and I felt stuck. But the man was in such distress I feared he was going to do something drastic that would keep them apart for some time. And so I quietly made my way to the park bench, limping, and trying to ignore the pain in my leg that nowhere matched the pain that Peg’s husband felt in his heart and soul.

In my head I asked Peg what her husband’s name was. I’ve always been horrible with names, mostly because I doubted myself with them, so I begged my guides to be precise. “Bill. His name is Bill,” I heard.

As nonchalantly as I could I walked past Bill, stopped and looked at him. “Bill?” I was an awful liar and I was hoping that I wasn’t translucent.

The man wiped his tears and looked up at me in question.

“Bill, I am so sorry. I heard about Peg. My mom had been friends with her,” I lied, hoping I would be forgiven. “She fought such a tough battle.”

“For years,” he replied, taking out a handkerchief and blowing his nose. “Damn cancer.”

I nodded back in understanding.

“You know I really believe that they hear us in Heaven. The more you talk to her, the easier it gets. And I know that it isn’t the same as them being here with us, but it does help to get us through the bad days. It helps me with my mom at least.”

Bill bent his head and began to cry again.

“She hears you, Bill. I’m sure she hears you. Keep talking to her. Mourn, but celebrate with her that she no longer hurts.”

I looked over at Peg who was crying, but smiled at thank you at me through her tears.

Bill rose from the bench and I gave this complete stranger a hug. Not from me, but from Peg, he just probably didn’t know it.

As I walked away, I realized that it wasn’t a coincidence that my headphones were missing. Or that I walked that way that day at that time and had to stop for a leg cramp. We are so often placed in situations, at certain times, with certain people, to complete certain quests, but we are so often caught up in our world that we don’t see it. Or hear it.

Take some time in your busy schedules to look and listen around you – really look and listen around you. Because they are hearing, but are you listening?


Kristy Robinett

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