The Invisible Choir

by Tessa Lynne

  When Vince was here, I told him I need to talk to him when he can spare a couple of hours. I think it best to give him a little at a time, but where do I start? I guess at the beginning, with a woman who occupied not only my dreams but my every waking thought. That could be a little much. I will start with telling him about my near-death experience.

  I took an outdoor walk this morning, the first in a long while. I turned in at a few stores, even stopped for a veggie burger. I found it exhilarating to be in touch with ordinary reality. It is not that I doubt our experience—my belief was strengthened as I realized that what we have together is just as real as the world I saw all about me.

  A curious thing happened last night. I was deep in meditation, seeking your presence, when I heard you cry out. I thought some-thing must be terribly wrong. I was confused, then worried when I didn’t feel you close until early this morning. Amelia explained that you took a fall and hit your head, which interfered with our connection—the strength of it continues to amaze me.

  You asked about a painting. Either I talk too much in my sleep or you are able to read my thoughts. I haven’t told a soul about it, and I will say no more.

  Michael, I do not want to write one more word to you. I want to talk to you. I want you to talk to me, talk back to me, talk circles around me, talk of love, our children, our past, our future, the weather. I want to do everything that will require no words at all. I will try later. Are you going to walk with me?

  It could be spring here—melting snow, patches of green, air so fresh, trails of soggy leaves and then fine sand. I climb a ridge on the bank of the river and sit in the exposed roots of a tree with a double trunk, one long fallen and one upright and healthy. I sit with the sun full on my face, my legs crisscrossed, hands lightly clasped, the pads of my thumbs touching. I close my eyes and draw you near as I begin to meditate.

  After a time, I draw on the energy of the earth, visualizing a golden cord extending from my core to deep within the earth. I draw energy up the cord to the base of my spine, to the crown of my head. Then I draw on the energy of the sun, let it flow into me and through me, and then I reach out to the Light. As these energies converge, I channel them into a healing force that I direct to the specific changes that need to take place in my body. I pray to the Creator to surround me and to infuse me with healing energy, and then I direct these powerful forces to join with your healing efforts.

  Tessa, you fill me with your passion. I am totally under your spell. I long to hold you, touch you, feel you come alive to my administrations—in the earthly sense. I treasure the spiritual love we have, but it always leaves me wanting more.

  I had a chance to talk to Vince yesterday about my near-death experience. He was interested and then very accepting of the truth of it and of the meaning it holds for me. The next time we talk, I am going to tell him that what I feel with you is of the same magnitude. Yes, it is far beyond our human understanding, but, nonetheless, it is real.

  Amelia confirmed that my dream last night was a glimpse of our past life. I saw Morning Star in her wedding dress and then I saw a ceremony beseeching the Great Spirit to bless the union with many children, elk, deer, bear, and beaver. Our hands and wrists were bound, my right and your left, and then we were led to a special marriage lodge where food and gifts were laid out for us. A bed of animal skins dominated the center of the lodge near the fire. I knew we would remain there three nights and three days.

  It is past midnight but I won’t be able to sleep. The youngest of my brothers was passing through town and we met for coffee, too late in the day for caffeine. We had a good visit but it was short. It felt like a lie to say nothing of the amazing events of the past few months, but there wasn’t enough time to even begin to explain.

  Michael, are you sure you want to join this household? It is now two hours later. Callie’s been talking with me about an obsessive ex-boyfriend who came to the door an hour ago wanting to come in, loudly insisting on it. He finally left, reluctantly. Then, a short while ago, I thought I heard his car and went to check. When I opened the door, Charkey jumped in the open window of the screen door with a live mouse in his jaws, which promptly escaped. He chased the poor, little, squeaky thing around and around the living room and finally caught it. I had to pick them both up and throw them out together, hoping the mouse didn’t get away again and the boy wasn’t lurking. It is quiet now. I may still find you in what is left of the night.

  Darling, I haven’t been feeling well. I tire more easily and need more pain medication. I try not to take them, for they interfere with my ability to reach you. Amelia has been encouraging me to use my powers of healing, and this is a good time to do that without any interruptions.

  I spent almost two hours on it. I am now more relaxed, the pain is manageable, and I feel stronger. I started with the breathing, as you described it, and then paid close attention to each part of my body, becoming aware of any sensations of tightness or pain, if it was hot or cold or clammy, etc. I stayed with whatever sensation was present without trying to change it.

  The funny thing is, they did change—the tension was replaced with peace and harmony. Then I visualized, in specific detail, my blood being purified by my power, gradually ridding it of diseased cells. I called upon the powers of my spirit, of our angels, and of the Creator. Together, we will be victorious.

  Michael, you described in exquisite detail some moments I was certain had been mutual two nights ago, and I am reassured. Despite the intensity of our experience, my mind still insists on being the prime interpreter of it. Two sides of myself are engaged in a perpetual dance—my mind still insists on leading. When I am in touch with, and act from, spirit or intuition, logic refuses to follow, would rather sit on the sidelines, where it pouts and maintains a constant vigilance for any discrepancy.

  Earlier, I was listening to the soul-stirring music of Sweet Honey in the Rock. Then I spent some time in a deep meditation, seeking Mahalia’s presence. Thirty minutes into it, I heard a faint voice urging me to go deeper. I used a visualization, based on a favorite trail, that takes me down a steep mountain path, descending into a deep gorge, each slow step taking me to a deeper level of consciousness. After a time, I could hear her clearly: Tessa, what you have with Michael is real. It is important that you believe and that you have faith. For us to walk together, you must maintain contact and walk with me. It was a powerful message—she does not join my surface world of doubt, worry, and fear—I must meet her in the essence of being.

  Who is Alexander? Were you dreaming of an old lover and saying his name? I heard it several times in my sleep and then again just after I woke up. I struggled for a while with the idea that I might have competition, then decided to let you answer my doubts. I called upon my power to reach out to you, with some urgency, and I felt you respond. If I listen with my heart, instead of my head, it tells me all I need to know. It’s time for my tests.

  I need you so, my love, just to hold me. I am waiting for J.T. to stop by with my test results. I don’t have a good feeling about them, but I have been trying hard not to let the negative thoughts prevail. I don’t want to draw too much on your strength for fear I may become a drain on your energies.

  J.T. did not bring good news last night. I felt you reaching out to me, but I wouldn’t allow myself to respond until early this morning. The tests showed an increase of cancer cells in the bone marrow. I am very disappointed. J.T. has ordered another change in the chemo, a more frequent and stronger dose.

  Darling, have I been deceiving myself to think we might have a life together, to think I can rid myself of this disease? Have all of my healing efforts been in vain?

  18. Take Heaven

  12/18 - 12/31

  The news this morning from J.T. and Amelia is much the same—not good. Amelia examined me and recommended a change in medication, which she will somehow bring to J.T.’s attention. He’s the type of guy who thinks everything has to be his own idea, so I hope she can be subtle. I just wro
te that as if Amelia’s type of assistance is an ordinary, common occurrence. I have accepted so much—will others believe it when I tell them?

  Have you trimmed your tree yet? I love the sprig of pine. Thank you for sending me a little piece of your Christmas. I put it in a glass of water to keep it fresh. The staff has decorated here and several groups of carolers will be coming. I used to sing in a church choir, sang solo for weddings, and was in a community men’s choir. I miss all of that.

  No, my love, I was not dreaming about an old boyfriend named Alexander, but I have always liked that name and wanted it for a son. I wonder why I have always been drawn to it.

  Michael, I love you with all my heart, my soul, my being. Perhaps I should not presume to speak for my spirit. Zachary said they become somewhat amused at our efforts, and they don’t always assist as much as they could, leave us to our own devices. That must be when we are most frustrated in our attempts. Apparently, we are like young children to them, new to this world and inexperienced. I would like to stay here, content in their presence, but I need to go to work.

  It is a penetrating, bitter cold here that I can feel in every bone of my body. I am going to take a long, hot bath and dream of warmer weather. You mentioned skinny-dipping. I see the two of us on a secluded beach at twilight time, at one with the elements, not a thing between us and the air, us and the water. It is the month of June—balmy nights and delicately scented air—musical notes are carried whimsically by the breeze to unite lovers for the evening, or a life-time. It is the hardest month for me to be alone. Will you promise me that we can be together by then? I know you can’t. I can even think, at least by next Christmas, and be content—if only it were a certainty.

  It seems that I have said your name as I slept. Vince heard it and asked me about you. I told him that you’re the woman in my life and that I will tell him more when I am feeling better. So then he had to insist on details, like your full name, where and how we met, where you live. He was persistent, but I managed to do some quick talk-ing and change the subject. You have piqued his interest, and it has given me the opening I need to tell him.

  J. T. was just here with a positive report. My healing efforts may have had some effect after all. There is no increase in the white blood cell or toxicity levels this week, so he said I can go to Vince and Tara’s for Christmas Day.

  I think with sadness of all the holidays I missed while our girls were growing up. Would I have had a positive impact on their lives? I worry about meeting them, making a good impression. I would like to be cool but not too much so. What about the rest of your family—is your mother easily charmed?

  The girls are similar to me in their insistence on reality over fantasy. Age five, a few days after Christmas, they called me into their room. Kenna, with a serious expression and the tone of an ultimatum, said, “Mom, we want you to tell us the truth—is Santa Claus real?” She spoke so in earnest that I could not lie to them. They were quiet a moment and then demanded, “What about the Easter Bunny?” A moment later it was, “What about the Tooth Fairy?” All their illusions were shattered in a few minutes.

  Our Christmas Eve will be a quiet one, no travel this year. The girls and I will have a late meal and then open gifts. Christmas day, I will go to my cousins’ and they will be with their father and step-mother. Church hasn’t played a big part in our lives since they were confirmed two years ago. I know it has been an enduring presence in yours and will likely be a regular part of our life together.

  I asked Zachary if the spirit world observes earthly holy days. “The Creator recognizes the differences in the primary belief systems and gives His blessing to all of them. Masters and Sages celebrate holy days that were familiar to them in multiple physical lifetimes. They also celebrate the diversity of beliefs that exist in your world and all that makes both mortals and spirits unique.”

  My darling, what beautiful gifts, the locket and the thought that it holds your love. I wore it through the night and am wearing it now. I felt you close throughout the night, our spirits rejoicing with us. Were we not consumed?

  Did you feel me close today? Twice, Vince had to call me back to earth when I was trying to reach out to you. He wanted to know when he could meet you and, once again, asked me where you live. He didn’t appreciate my vague answers. Then he took on the role of a stern parent. He sat up taller, squared his shoulders, and with an emphatic tone said, “Dad, we have got to talk.” Soon he will know. Please come to me tonight. I need you so.

  Thank you, my love. I knew at once that the painting was of Morning Star and Bear Hunter, and I felt a confirming response from my spirit, she who was the first to see it a few weeks ago and said that I must see it. To look at the deep love between them increases my longing to be in your arms, to lean my head upon your shoulder.

  I am listening to “The Christmas Revels,” the reading of a 1513 letter from Fra Giovanni to a friend of his. I will copy my favorite part for you.

  “No heaven can come to us unless our

  hearts find rest in today. Take Heaven.

  No peace lies in the future which is not hidden

  in this present instance. Take Peace.

  The gloom of the world is but a shadow.

  Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. Take Joy.”

  You are such a joy to wake up to. They started the chemo last night after the warden lectured me about returning so late, like I had done it just to annoy her. She has most definitely lost the Christmas spirit. I am still wearing your locket—it rests just over my heart. Did you plan it that way?

  Thank you for being at my side today. I felt your hand in mine while the bone marrow was being extracted. I am so fortunate that we have found each other. Had it not been for this divine intervention, I might have given up long ago. I had pretty much done just that in October, at the point you entered my life. I had accepted that I was dying. Teresa, you restored my will to live—my entire life has since been rejuvenated and redirected.

  I’ve been thinking ahead to what this new year will bring—let’s save Vermont for our honeymoon. I’ve tried to imagine sitting beside you in the confined, and public, space of an airplane and know that I couldn’t manage it immediately after we meet. We will have to find a similar spot within a few hours’ drive and leave as soon as we get the word.

  I know the perfect mountain setting where we could meet. There is a small jewel of a lake, with a lodge and dining room, or individual cabins. Is your BMW the small, sporty type? It would be perfect for driving the sinuous mountain curves. Are you possessive of your car? I’m not used to being a passenger. I should warn you that I have a heavy foot, but it comes with a sixth sense that tells me when to ease up (most of the time).

  Our meeting begins to seem imminent. I have an urge to go shopping, never my favorite activity, but I will enjoy choosing lingerie with you in mind. I am more likely, though, to wear your tee shirts. I imagine taking in the aroma of one at the end of a not-so-active day, just enough that your masculine scent has permeated the white cotton fibers.

  Michael, I want to experience all of you, to feel your larger presence surround me. When we finally meet—the mere thought of physical contact takes my breath away—we will give such sweet pleasure to one another.

  Great news! I can hardly believe it. I have had a complete turn-around from my last test results. When I told Amelia I might leave the hospice soon, she said she will remain close to me but her personal visits will be more difficult. I tried to joke with her, said I will cultivate a relationship with a widow-next-door type. She didn’t laugh. Do they ever?

  Vince is stopping by tomorrow to have that discussion with me, a major sacrifice considering how much he likes football. I don’t know if it is more a matter of his curiosity about you or of his concern about my sanity. I hope you can be near so your presence will help me choose the right words, but how do I tell him about Amelia? How do I explain our relationship and leave her out?

  Sweetheart, this year is drawing
to an end. I read a few of your earlier letters as I held your locket in one hand and your beautiful stone in the other. This is the beginning of a new and wondrous life.

  Michael, I have been reflecting on how our love has evolved, these last months and over many lifetimes. I see an image of a lightly textured fabric in rich, jewel-tone colors, interwoven with threads of pure gold. It is sometimes on display but often folded—only we are aware of its full beauty. Alone, we wrap ourselves in its warmth, when warmth is sought; sometimes it is gossamer light, caressing us. I am going to light some candles, draw you near, and dream of the year to come.

  19. He Doesn’t Believe Me

  01/01 – 01/18

  What a night to remember, and then, early this morning as I held you close, I heard our names and also Mahalia and Alexander. Yes, my love, I am certain now that he is my spirit. Had you tried to hint that he was? I’m waiting for Vince—a little nervous but excited to tell him all about you—he is here.

  I am sorely disappointed. It did not go as well as I had hoped it would—quite the opposite. Vince made it painfully clear he doesn’t believe in my experience. He wouldn’t even consider that it might have some basis in reality. I have been replaying the conversation in my mind to see what I might have explained differently. I knew of no other course but to tell him the truth as I have known it.

  I have gotten a message that “He has much to consider; you must give him time.” Was that from you or from Amelia? I will write of the details tomorrow. Now I want only the comfort of your arms. Hold me, my love. I need you so.

  Michael, I lie here in your arms filled with joy of body, mind, and spirit. A million connecting threads weave back and forth until we are bound to each other with every fiber of our beings. I will begin and end each day of this promising new year with you, my love.