Wait for me, Ellie or the plush harbor of tears

It’s one of those rare cases, when my lucky number doesn’t give me positive feelings. Today is 5 months since my friend shed his physical body and left this dimension called life.

It hasn’t gotten much easier, it still hurts terribly to think about all the impossibilities, memories are around every corner as are tears ready to pour in response to a song, a place, a name.

The only thing that has changed is the now firm belief that he lives on in a new form. It will still take time and getting used to relate to him in this new way and to accept the egocentric nature of wanting to see and hear and feel him physically, as well as to communicate properly, but I know he’ll be with me every step of the way and I will rise high above the vibration of grief. Here’s a quatrain I have written for inspiration, as I do have moments, when I feel desperate again in this grief-dance.

But the greatest inspiration are of course the beautiful signs I’ve been getting daily with very few exceptions over these 5 months, which I believe are periods when he’s away to deal with some spirit work.

Yesterday it was an extremely powerful one.

He once gave me a present – a huge pink plush elephant. I adored it’s soft texture and would hug and cuddle in his pink depth and softness in moments of joy and sadness. He was an inanimate but very energetically powered substitute of my friend and I even started nicknaming my friend Ellie in honor of this elephant.

My mom threw him away when I got married, she thought he no longer fitted the bedroom of a decent married woman and carried way too much history (energy in my terms). I felt very sad then to have to say goodbye to him, because even though I already said goodbye to the romantic relationship, I could have never said good-bye to the simple and eternal connection of two loving souls. I have kept many other small things, letters and photos which now heal my broken heart in those stormy moments, but I so long now to hug that pink elephant. I was even planning to buy one for my daughter, but couldn’t find any. Apparently a very out-dated produce.

Imagine my amusement, when yesterday while I was having my nails done, I suddenly saw through the window the very same elephant being loaded into some car. My Ellie still exists and I will find him, that’s how I read this sign.

And at that very moment on came this song in the salon: