I was feeling a lot more myself after a few days and my throat wasn't hurting, so I went back to being my chatterbox self. A great guy named Vince came on shift as my tech. So, while he was doing things around my room, I told him about Lyra. Of course I did. I tell EVERYBODY about Lyra. I enjoy telling people about her because I like sharing her story with others and because it helps me keep her alive in my mind.
Vince was extremely receptive to me and seemed to enjoy listening about Lyra so, over a couple of days, I went into greater detail about her. He just gobbled it all up. He turned out to be not only receptive but open-mindedly spiritual as well.
Since Lyra died I've been struggling to figure out why I'm still alive. For a long while I felt like I was utterly useless, and I truly was. I'm still unable to do anything for myself or anyone else and I've lost almost any semblance of independence. So I was at a total loss as to what my purpose in life could possibly be. And I yearned to leave this life and go Home to spirit. I even had a plan and was slowly putting it into motion. But when I thought back to all the potentially fatal illnesses I've survived, like hemmoraging after a tonsillectomy in 1952, and having emergency surgery to remove my gallbladder in the 1970s, and having Hepatitis A in the 1970s, and having the flesh-eating bacterium invade my abdomen in 1998, then getting bacterial meningitis which is what caused my paraplegia in 2010, I figured there must be SOME reason for me to be alive. But what? I could not imagine what it could be.
Eventually I realized that I could use my one and only talent of putting words together. That was the only power I had left. But I had no idea what to write. So I started this blog, and have been writing it, somewhat sporadically, for nearly a year. But, I knew, it wasn't the answer to my question.
So I was lying in my hospital bed, regaling Vince with tales of Lyra's life when he turned, looked at me, and said, "You should write about Lyra's story." And in my mind I heard what sounded like a chorus of angels and saw a light brighter than the sun. And I thought, "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" It was so obvious I couldn't imagine why I hadn't thought of it myself. But I knew, the second Vince said it, that THIS is my purpose!
I told Vince that and, later, told him that if Lyra's story ever gets published as a book, I will say in the acknowledgements, "Many thanks to Vince, for stating the obvious."
So, as has always been my habit before writing, I am mulling this around in the back of my mind. I'm also thinking about who I need permission from to include their names and possibly pictures. This is, after all, a true story about Lyra's life. However, I will change names and omit photos of those who want to stay anonymous.
There you have my second revelation. It seems kind of stupid that I had to be in the hospital and suffer so much pain just to get a couple of revelations, especially since writing about Lyra wasn't a new idea. In fact, that had been suggested to me by other people. I guess I wasn't ready for it before. I wasn't in a place of acceptance until my illness wiped away all of my other concerns and left the way open for Vince to reach my inner self. Who knows? I just know that it feels right, and I have no doubt that I will accomplish my goal.
And now, there's not even a thought or wish of dying. I want to live because I know what my purpose is for being here.
Thank you to all that made this suggestion. Sorry it fell on deaf ears. Love, hope, and peace to you all.
Lyra as a baby. She was grinning, of course. ❤️
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