A good friend told me that there would be ‘signs’ that Diana is still very much with me and with all of us. It was the night before last when, in the shower, I begged her for these signs. I screamed in the shower, I begged her to show me that there was nothing I could have done differently, to show me that she is at peace and okay, to show me that she didn’t suffer in sadness on her drive to Stuart or when the bullet entered her body.
I want to write out some of the powerful things that happened after that:
When we arrived at the towing company, the bill was $214, payable in cash only. I had completely forgotten to bring the full amount, so my friends helped out and I begrudgingly handed over $215. The clerk let us know that they had no change. I shrugged – “what does a dollar matter right now?” He wished me a Merry Christmas as I walked out, and we exchanged a few words about how there’s not much merry right now. He replied, “Yeah, generally when someone other than the car owner has to pick up a car, there’s often a lot of sadness.” He was actually very compassionate and looked like he might cry. This surprised me, especially given how truly wretched their staff had been on the phone with me the day before.
We stepped outside of the towing company office and waited for her car to be brought around. When I opened up the driver side door, I noticed right away that a folded-in-half, single dollar bill lay in full view in the change tray (along with a 3/4th’s full bottle of Diet Mountain Dew in the console area, of course). She absolutely NEVER EVER left money in the car (and especially in plain sight), so I thought that this was odd.
I went back in, figuring the clerk had asked one of the drivers to put the change in the car. “Nope, that dollar bill was there when we brought the car over. We just leave things where they are.” My friends commented that Diana was making absolute damn sure that I didn’t leave feeling like I had overpaid a shitty towing company that was trying to extort me just the day before. I thought to myself, “Okay, self, well, that was strange, but maybe it was just the change from entering the park. Maybe she was just distraught and threw the dollar into the change tray.”
Once we got to the park, I took note of the entrance fee: $6. So I said to myself, “Okay self, that is clearly not change from the park fee.” Good luck figuring that one out.
There were many more signs after that:
-The vending machine at the front of the park carried Diet Mountain Dew. You almost never see that in a vending machine. And especially in a state park? And oh, there were actually three buttons for Mountain Dew on the machine — two regular, one diet.
-At the site where she shot herself, there was an empty bottle of Gatorade lying in the marsh below. This was the only trash that I saw. I drank Gatorade like it was going out of style at her house, so she almost always kept it well stocked.
-One of our close friends was trying to figure out yesterday what their title was in our hypothetical co-op/kinky/family “House of Hemingway” that we wanted to start one day. I was pretty sure Diana called them a pup. Right near where my love died, there was a large carving in the wood that said “Aug Dog & Aug Pup 2014.”
-At the site of her passing, there was a white egret that showed up awhile after we arrived … She kept coming closer to us, and spent about an hour with us. When she got closer, we realized she was missing her left foot. It looked fresh. My dear friend said “she is injured but not broken.” So fitting. My love was so injured, but was not in any way broken. This was beautiful beyond measure.
-In chatting with someone who knew Diana via phone last night, she shared that Diana had given her a stone. Someone came along later and picked it up and said “I’m no Shaman, but this stone has some serious power.”
Well, sir, you must know that Diana was a Shaman. She could see things. She could shape-shift. She could time travel. She could heal. She could deeply, deeply connect. She was truly other worldly.
So yes. That stone has some serious power. Clearly, so does she.