Monday, May 9, 2016

This week's challenge is here i'm gonna get a little emotional here, so feel free to jump to the challenge.

I'm a writer, and writing is how i process my grief.

I'm writing this because i found out last night that a very beautiful person was taken from the world far too soon.

On Friday Dr. Angela Lindberg passed away in palliative care.  I didn't know she was so sick.

 She was my friend.
I have posted about her a few times - she was a wonderful care giver and a kind and lovely person.

Love you Angela. 
Angela was my magical chiropractor.  

I started seeing her when i was pregnant with my boys.  She helped my body prepare for labour, she helped me with random pregnant lady aches and pains.  She was a fixer, and she continually fixed me.  
When Artoo was born and was sick, i eventually had to quit my job to stay home with him.  I remember, he was just an infant and i went to see her and she hugged me while i cried and cried and cried.  (It wasn't the last time that she held me while i cried, either. )  

At another session, she held my hands in hers in the hallway as she discreetly asked me - now that i was unemployed, how the money situation was going.  I said to her; "It's not." and she said: "Don't worry, i got you. Come and see me.  No Charge.  let me look after you, so you can look after those babies."  and for five and a half years she saw me once a week, and continued to look after me.  

There was something so special about her.  Y'know?  It's so amazing to see when someone is living their true life's calling, and Angela was a healer.  And she was brilliant at it.  She would make me feel better, just by being in the room. 

She could heal with just the touch of her hands, and i was constantly amazed how she could put her hands on me, and i could feel my body reacting to her.  

She would put one hand on the top of my head, and one hand on my heart, and then she would hug me with her whole body before bringing me up off the table.  I never felt anything but absolute love and joy coming from her.    

She helped me to remember to take care of my body so i could take care of my kids.  She made me feel special and important.  And she loved it when i would show her the paintings i was working on.  

We talked about light, and spirit, and love, and energy, and how it moves through her into me.  She told me she didn't talk to everyone that way, obviously.  just the ones who'd get it.  

She always smelled so good.  Like essential oils and happiness. 

And she hugged me like a sister, every single time.  

There were times when things were very hard with the boys, that i would come for a treatment and she would make an adjustment and suddenly there would be a release and i would be sobbing.  and she held me while i sobbed and she never made me feel foolish.  it was never awkward.  i felt safe, and held up by her strong hands when i was weak and broken.   One such time she just whispered the words "I see you." as she held me.  and i knew that she really did see me.  All the broken and hurting parts of me, not the hard candy shell i tried to keep up for the world.  

I felt a very strong connection to her.  I may not have known her very well outside of that treatment room, but i loved her very much.  And i will miss her.  She was very loved by so many people.  A bright shining star that went out too soon.  

The first thing she'd say to me, when she bounced into the room was: "Hello beautiful."  And the last thing she'd say to me when she left was "You're amazing."  every. time.  The last words she ever spoke to me were You're Amazing.  

i love you Angela.