Author’s Note;
I would have been 39 years old when this happened, something that did not really mean anything to me at the time, other than an understanding that I was not supposed to live past my 30’s. This was just a piece of information I understood to be true, not something that was written down anywhere, just an inner knowing.
It was only a few weeks ago that I got a flash of understanding while on my run. It hit me so hard, I had to stop and collect myself, get my breath. Why did I not see the connection before, how did I miss it I wondered. Perhaps to you the reader it will just be a silly notion, but to me it was like a hammer coming down and giving me proof;
Che Guevara died age 39 years
Hilde Guevara (his oldest daughter) died age 39 years
JFK JR. died age 39 years (July, 1999)
Gabriel attemp on my life age 39 years (August, 1999).
Coincidence? I don’t believe in coincidences………
Close Call August 11, 1999
An example of a time when ‘the Spirit Boy or Man’ was there protecting me. A life threatening scare happened this day.
It was a beautiful day and I had gone for my run. As I came down our country lane I could see the owner of our rental house waiting in the driveway. She had brought her ex- husband with her and he was in my husbands detached office without our knowledge or permission. We had never met this man before.
I found it strange she was here and was angry she did not let us know she was coming. We were getting ready to move out of the house and really she had no right to enter any of the buildings without our permission. Patrick had gone for his bike ride up the mountain and I didn’t know how long he would be. Lucas was in the house on his own and that also concerned me. It was obvious they did not have respect for our privacy.
We had problems with this owner because she hadn’t kept her end of our rental agreement. She was claiming the improvements we had made on the house in lieu of rent were no longer valid, and she was obviously in a financial bind, looking for additional money from us. I had a feeling that was why she had just showed up, bringing her ex for back-up. But I did not want to speak to her without Patrick present as well, so I ran past her and straight into the house.
She was angry I didn’t stop to talk and began yelling at me. There was a lot of anger in her voice, which only made me more determined not to talk to her at this point. She followed me up to the house as I and rushed to unlock the door and get inside before she caught up to me.
I quickly stepped inside the house turning the lock just as she reached the door. I still had my hand on the lock when I looked up to see her face through the window. Although it was hard for me to comprehend in the moment, I watched as her eyes changed colour from blue to black!
She was incredibly angry after trying to open the door and realizing she couldn’t get in. Raising both her fists she slammed them into the glass with me standing directly on the other side. It happened so quickly I didn’t have time to react, but the most beautiful thing occurred.
Time seemed to slow down and I could hear the glass break as a rain of shards came flying at my exposed face and neck. I knew I could not get out of the way and did not have time to even feel afraid. From behind me I felt the gentle touch of hands as they covered my neck, fingers protecting my raised jugular veins.
In a flash I watched as her eyes changed back to their normal colour of blue! I saw her confusion as she looked down at her hands, now bleeding with many cuts from the broken glass. She did not look up to see if I was alright but instead turned and ran, yelling for her ex-husband who came around the corner of the shop to see what was wrong. She was holding up her blood covered hands and that was when I turned around to face Lucas who had come to see what was happening. They immediately drove off, presumably to the hospital, and I went phone the Nelson police.
While I was talking to them I went into the bathroom to see if I had any cuts. When I looked into the mirror I was quite surprised to see two small scratches on my face and neck, one close to my jugular vein and another on my chin and arm, but no other significant marks. The scratches were inconsequential. I understood the hands (and perhaps the wings of Sapphire) I had felt on my neck had in fact saved my life.
Having time to reflect and think about what had happened, and after speaking with the police and Patrick, it hit me just how close a call it had been. We were an hour from the nearest hospital and Patrick did not arrive home from his ride for another ten minutes. Had my jugular vein been cut my death was almost certain. This never entered the mind of this crazed lady who raced off to save herself.
That evening we went out for our anniversary dinner, truly I did not feel like cooking! The full weight of this experience hit me while we were waiting for our food to arrive and I realized how different the outcome could have been. I was protected by spirit. There is absolutely no other explanation. I will never forget the touch of those gentle hands on my skin precisely where they were needed.
I filed my official police report and the owner also filed hers, accepting responsibility for what she had done. Even so, several weeks later I was told there was nothing they could do, nothing I could do. The officer in charge of the case told me it would be my word against hers and did not recommend I pursue the matter. I was shocked by his comment because she had admitted her guilt. How did I not have reason to file my complaint and press charges?
But he told me it was in my best interest to drop the matter, they would not allow me to pursue it. Shades of my daughters abuser going without punishment came quickly back to mind.
I was afraid for a long time to run on my own. It was difficult to accept I had again been turned into a victim with no favourable course of action. Eventually renewed strength came from that invisible source, finally giving me the courage to stand and say, “You will not best me, I am strong because I am loved.”
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