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Thursday, 2 November 2017

My Feather Collection

For the past four years I have been the recipient of feathers of different sizes and colours , each one unique, but with a familiar feel. Each one touches me in some precious way and calls out to my heart “I am here for you.”
The first was given to me on the soft breeze of a summer evening. The sun was setting and two ravens cavorted above me overhead.  My mother had been buried that day next to my father and as I looked up thinking of how they were now reunited a small black feather dropped down, down, down and I ran to it and caught it before it reached the ground.
The second was on the first anniversary of my father’s passing and as I watered some house plants, a tiny yellow feather captured my attention.
The third was white and mysterious on the grass outside my house. It was for my eyes, only, placed in such a way for my discovery on the second anniversary of Dad’s passing. I didn’t know of any birds in my neck of the wood with white feathers, other than Bald Eagles, but this size was unlike those of the great, majestic bird. I ran inside with my find and did a Google search typing in the words “white feather” and within an instant the first image that appeared on screen was that of a white feather, just like the one I held in my hand, with the words “Angel Feather” .
Recently, after attending “The Gathering” a beautiful production about a First Nations youth’s search for meaning, I got into my car and pulled my seatbelt across when something pricked me in the side. I looked down and a mini version of an eagle feather was stuck in my dress.
And two weeks later, on the night of Oct 31st, while assisting my granddaughter with her hummingbird Halloween costume, I again felt a poke and looked down to see an orange feather stuck in my sweater. I was wearing an orange shirt and I smiled because it seemed the angels had chosen a perfect match for my attire.  
Many indigenous tribes, the Aboriginal, The Egyptians, the Celts, and our own American First Peoples believe that feathers are symbols of The Creator. They are highly revered and sacred gifts from the sky. Some believe that they bring stories of the next life.  A connection between us and the Divine. In the Middle East, Peacock feathers have great significance. Some cultures believe that the hollow shaft of a feather carries your prayer up to heaven and God answers and sends your answer back via the same means.
There are many quotes from the Baha’i writings which reference the soul, the spirit, and the heavenly realm and they provide such solace.  Reading the words of Baha’u’llah and Abdul- Baha about heaven , or  the “next world”  and the use of metaphors containing images of birds , such as ….”enable this bird trained by Thy hand to soar in the eternal rose garden”  and “He hath flown to the Kingdom of Immortality”, and “The hearts of such as are devoted to Thee have winged their flight towards Thee” are a source of great assurance and joy.

Whatever the true purpose is of these soft signs coming my way, even if whimsy,  are pure delight and I look forward to seeing further confirmations in feather form and adding them to my growing  collection.





Tuesday, 28 July 2015

The Yellow Feather

One morning just before dawn, I dreamt I picked up an injured yellow bird at the side of the road.  I decided the best thing would be to take him to the local wild animal shelter. As I was driving the canary-like bird to where I could get him some help, he perked up and started to whistle the most beautiful melody.

He jumped up and perched on my shoulder and sang so happily. It was a tune that seemed to thank me for taking the time to offer assistance.

I awakened from the dream in an extremely good mood. I went into the kitchen to get breakfast and noticed that an orchid plant that I had been nurturing had its first blossom open!  Excitedly, I went over to examine it and something caught my eye.  A small yellow feather sat at the base of the exotic plant !

And then I remembered the date. It had been exactly one year since my father's passing!  The significance of the dream became obvious to me. My father loved to whistle, he loved canaries, and coincidentally, he had piloted a yellow Cessna float plane for most of his life.

The logical explanation for the feather was that I had briefly looked after my neighbour's caged birds a few months earlier and I surmised that one of the birds must have lost his feather while preening. However, I had watered that orchid plant many times and had never noticed the feather. But, the spiritual significance of the find wasn't lost on me that morning.  There was no mistaking that Dad was sending me a message to reassure me of his happiness in heaven. 

At that moment, I recalled parts of two prayers that remind me of that dream:

"O God! O God! This is a broken-winged bird and his flight is very slow--assist him so that he may fly toward the apex of prosperity and salvation, wing his way with the utmost joy and happiness throughout the illimitable space, raise his melody in Thy Supreme Name in all the regions..."

and the other:

"He hath abandoned this mortal life and hath flown to the kingdom of immortality..."

Today marks the second anniversary of my father's flight to the next world and in honour of this, I feel compelled to share my dream with you.



Wednesday, 31 December 2014

Making Dying Joyful

Looking back on 2014, I recall fondly my dear mother. She was my biggest fan. She was my biggest promoter.  She would proudly spout "My daughter wrote a book." "Tell them about your book, dear."

I'll tell you about my book later. I want to tell you about my mother.

We celebrated her 85th  birthday in April and everyone at the party put inspirational sentiments in words on paper, for her to pull from a jar. Papers that she could look at each day and be buoyed by our love.  It was a fun party. She enjoyed herself. She seemed to be in pretty good health.

However, she passed away at the end of May. Rather suddenly. But, I know she read every note in that jar beforehand.  She must have gone to the Great Beyond knowing she was cherished.

Here are some of the words written to "Grandma" by grown up grandchildren and little great-grandchildren and other family members:

"I love your radiant smile!"

"I love you so much. I like when you give me money for my purse. That is so generous!"

"I love you always"

"I love your phone calls"

"Thank you for all you do!"

"You are the most poised and graceful lady I know"

"I love your hugs and kisses"

"You are very special to me."

"Every time the topic of mothers-in-law comes up I always let people know that I have the best one in the world"

"I love you for always being there for me and being so loving and supportive"

"You are someone whom I respect and love dearly. I don't think you know how much I love you, or the effect you have had on my life! Your kindness, generosity, sense of humour ,and faith, are some of the many qualities of yours that I admire ."

"What I love and admire about you the most is your pure heart, radiant spirit, and hilarious sense of humour..."

On the evening of her passing, I wrote a note to her on the back of an envelope and pinned it to the bulletin board beside her hospital bed:

Dear Mom,
I love you. See you tomorrow.


(I decorated it with little hearts.)

The nurse called me an hour after I went home and said how sorry she was to deliver the news that my mother had passed away.  I asked her for details. She said that she went to make mom more comfortable for sleeping and had lowered the bed and tucked her in.  Mom had pointed to the note. "What does that say?" she asked.

  The nurse read her my words.

 And with that, my mother closed her eyes contentedly and exhaled her final breath.

Now I will tell you about my book. Because my mom would want me to do that.  It's called Making Dying Joyful ~ Stories of Companionship. The author is me, Gail Bennett Owens. It's available from my website www.makingdyingjoyful.com or you can order it from your local bookseller. 

I miss her terribly. I love her to bits. Forever and always.

Best wishes to all my dear readers. I hope you enjoy good health in 2015.

Friday, 15 August 2014

99 YEAR OLD SEAMSTRESS

Photo: 99-year-old Lillian Weber makes a dress for a small child in Africa every single day!

In the past two years, Lillian has made more than 840 dresses and she plans to make 150 by next May. The reason for this date is that Lillian wants to make her 1,000th dress on her 100th birthday which is at the beginning of May!

Lillian says she starts work on a dress in the morning, takes a break during the midday, and puts the finishing touches to it in the afternoon. She loves making the dresses even though she knows she will never see a little girl wear one.

"I could probably make two a day, but I enjoy just doing the one. It's just one of those things I guess. I learnt how to do it and then I thought why not put it to good use?!"

#LoveLaterLife

This lady makes a dress a day and donates it  to a charity in Africa. She's pretty amazing and her goal
 is to make 1,000 dresses by the time she turns 100! See her story on AGE UK's facebook  page.  Her name is Lillian Weber! 

https://www.facebook.com/ageuk

Saturday, 19 April 2014