05.14.04
It was a familiar call. Olga was on the line telling
me she
had a friend that wanted to “come for a reading about her
future.” Her thick accent always made me laugh when she told
me
who she was. It is kind of a giveaway. She laughed even more than usual
as we set the appointment. I wondered why but was soon caught up in
times and dates and forgot all about it. Finally, the appointment was
set. We chatted a minute and hung up the phone.
A few days later it was time for Olga’s
friend to come
for her reading. At the appointed time I saw Olga’s car pull
up
and a small, older woman get out of the car. Cane in hand she began to
make her way to the house. She took her time as she crossed the yard,
waiving Olga away and not wanting any help from either of us as she
climbed the steps of my porch. I offered her my hand, but again it was
refused. We slowly went into the house and I showed her to her seat.
After the usual pleasantries I offered her my cards and asked her to
shuffle. Slowly and deliberately she did so, handed them back to me
with a gently smile and said,
“I want to know about my future, about my life”.
I chuckled inside, thinking that was a given. Why else would she be here? I laid the cards out and began her reading. Not wanting to break confidence I can only reveal parts of the reading. Mainly that she was moving and that she would have to accept a certain health problem as a definite part of her life. We talked about it being her turn to have people to help and take care of her. Her independence and will power, and her reluctance to relinquish control of her life showed through very strongly. After quite a long time, I felt led to tell her that she needed to begin preparing for her death. Now this is not a typical thing to come up in one of my readings. It’s just not good for business. She, however, took it in stride and asked a few questions on the matter. She seemed mostly concerned with the time remaining instead of the eventuality of her death. She asked about her move, her family and the events of her life. She seemed un-phased that I had just told her she was going to die. This had me quite perplexed so I went deeper into the reading, searching to make it all make sense.
Finally, spirit broke through with two new “visions”. First, I saw the spirits of two older women. They seemed to be calling to her; trying to reach out to her in some way. Then I saw her on a farm. I asked her about it and she told me that she had, in fact grown up on a farm. I then told her I saw an old fashioned butter churn. She seemed lost in a thought for a moment and then began to tell me the most wonderful story about her mother and grandmother (both deceased) who came over from Sweden where their whole family was well known as “butter masters”. She told me that it was hard for them to start a business and a family on a homestead in 1904. I didn’t catch it. I went on with her reading. That prompted another chapter of the story from her. She told me about her family making butter for J.L. Kraft when he sold butter and cheese out of a wagon on the town square. We talked on about the rich life she had led. About the experiences and things she had done. It was a “life in review”. Again she steered me back toward the present day. We covered topics such as finance and family issues. I gave her advice on her move and the new living arrangement with her daughter. Then it was time to draw things to a close. She thanked me for my time and the reading and began to dig in her purse for my pay. Carefully she counted out the money and after waiving us aside again, slowly got up. She told me she knew what she needed to about her future and again thanked me.
As she crossed the floor with Olga and me at her side it began to dawn on me. “How old are you, may I ask?”, the pieces were coming together in my mind.
She looked at me with a sly grin and said, “I tried to give you a hint earlier when I told you about our homestead. I was born in 1904. I will be a hundred next Month.” She ever so gently hit me in the leg with her cane and laughed.
One hundred years old and she came to ask me about her future. To ask about her move and what she had to look forward to. What a point of perspective. This woman was literally facing her mortality and all she was concerned with was living.
Could you stand at death’s door and think only of living? Could you stand anywhere and live as fully as this woman did at one hundred?
Can you answer “why not”?
I can now………thanks
Olga.
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