Surprise's story.

Surprise’s story

Her name was Surprise. She certainly was one to us. She was born as a single puppy to a young golden retriever mother. I had yearned for a dog for quite a while. In my 13th year, she joined our family. I was the loner, the social outcast, the black sheep, one of the last to be chosen to play on a team. I was hidden, within myself, and spent much of my time reading, delving into stories, becoming a part of them in the process. I found in stories comfort, insight, and mystery. Reading was my invitation inside the story. I could be there, feel everything, learn, participate, and yet still remain withdrawn in my own life.

Surprise gave me something no person could ever give me. She brought me out of my cocoon. With her and through her, I found myself. I loved her. Surprise offered me what my books could not. To this very day, what she gave me lives in me still. She was a golden girl. I am writing here about the time during which she left her physical life and the gift she left for me. It is because of Surprise that I came to know and trust in All That Is.

In the mail, something came addressed to me from the Maine Registry of Motor Vehicles. I had just moved back from Maine to the home I grew up in. I remembered mailing RMV my license plates and wondered what they might want. I opened up the envelope. Inside was a picture of Surprise. Apparently, I had mistakenly mailed them a picture inadvertently placed in between the plates. Along with the picture, there was a piece of paper on which a very short message was written: “I know somebody loves her.” She was right.

Several days passed. It was Friday and my parents planned to take her up to Maine for the weekend. They had a vacation home there. I was getting ready for work and I saw her outside on her lead. I went to say goodbye to her. It was then I heard a voice inside say: “You’re never going to see her again.” I was used to internal sabotage and I didn’t know what this meant…Was this another way to hurt myself? But, I had heard voices call to me before. I sensed them as benevolent souls who meant no harm. I went down the stairs, hugged Surprise and told her I loved her, and then went back inside to start my day.

I got a call later that night. My parents had taken Surprise to the vet. She was very, very sick. They didn’t know if she would make it through the night. I called the vet myself and was told the same. I made up my mind that I wanted to be with her. I would not let her be alone. It was late, perhaps 1:00 am, when I left. It was foggy out, cold, and dark.

I drove into the night. It was about 3AM when the car spun out of control. I couldn’t see well due to the fog. I don’t know if there was black ice. I don’t know what happened. But, later on, I wondered if I had left the car and my body to be with her as she left the physical plane.

I arrived in the early morning at my family’s home in Maine. We got the call shortly after 9AM. She had passed away during the night. I wanted to bring her body home. The ground was frozen- but we did bring her home. A friend of my sister’s dug through the snow and ice. I picked her body up, placed her inside the hollow of dirt and climbed in with her for a moment. Everyone was quiet around me. That’s all I remember of that moment.

Later, I went down to the beach and had a little talk with God. I wanted a sign that she was safe and well. I asked to be shown something that would let me know she was okay. In that moment, I saw within a single white rose. The next day, we drove home. It was February 12th, two days before Valentine’s Day. When we got close to home, I stopped at a pharmacy and looked through their selection of cards in search of a card for my parents. I glanced through the sympathy section. One card stood out to me. On the front, there was a single white rose and these words: “There is Life beyond the Wall.” I took the card home.

Days passed, and then several months. I spent a lot of time alone in my bedroom. And then, one day, I was sitting on my bed and turned my head toward the center of the room. She was there in front of me. I saw her as an inner sight just as I had seen the white rose some months before. She stayed a moment or two before she disappeared.

A year went by. On the anniversary of her passing, I stood above her grave looking down upon it, searching for her. I felt empty. I picked up my head and looked around me at all the life around me. I felt this amazing rush of loving energy coming from all of the life I was surrounded by: the trees, the bushes, the rocks, the sky, and all of the critters. The energy flowed through my entire being. It started at the top of my head, went through my entire body, and flowed directly into Surprise’s grave. I knew then that Surprise was and is in all the life that surrounded me. And that was the moment I knew that God is real, that love never dies, that energy moves from form to formlessness, and that we never lose the ones we love.

By Deborah Thunderchild