Abby's journal

 

 

December 9, 2017

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We have about half an hour to channel, before Steve has to go to the grocery store. So do I have anything to say in that short time?

I will be reposting my Christmas story, but it's a little early for that. I don't suppose you want to hear what's going on around here--nothing has changed, only it slowly gets harder and harder for Steve. His mother, and his cat, are both coming up against the far end of life.

Yesterday, Steve caught a very brief glimpse of a girl swimming under water, on a commercial for tourism in India. She was, of course, wearing a bathing suit, and she was light-complected and a brunette. Suddenly Steve felt a strong attraction and nostalgia, and he knew he must be subconsciously remembering me. But in the 1830's, did I ever let him see me like that? You have seen the bathing attire worn by women in that era. Women go out to dinner with less on, now.

You may know that I swam well, living near the large Merrimack River in Rocks Village, Haverhill, Mass. So much so, that we used to call me a "river sprite." Steve has said, in his book, that I named myself that--but I told him, last night, that he first called me that. I loved all things Japanese, so I chimed in, "a kappa," and it stuck. But back to Steve's question--I gave him to understand, that I did, in fact, suggest "skinny dipping" with him, once (or at least once). It was after we were married, and obviously, we were in a very secluded spot. Steve can't get where, or anything about the situation.* But the glimpse he saw on TV, matched the glimpse he remembers, of my legs kicking under water. He will never forget it. You see, men--even married men--weren't privileged to see such things very often in the 1830's. So naturally it stuck in his mind. I did that because I was attentive to his wishes; and I knew he secretly longed for it. He didn't have to say it--I just knew. And I always tried to comply with his secret wishes, sooner or later. It was my joy to do this. I still do it, when I can. It might take a week, or a month, or many months.

Steve has felt me telling him that another "prize" of antiquity, some object, will be coming his way soon. But what is "soon"? Matching up timing from the astral realm to the physical world is tricky. But Steve has been on the look-out for 2-3 weeks, now. He saw that one edition of a newspaper he wants--which has a photograph of himself as Mathew, in a retrospective article about him published in 1899--almost showed up. Well, almost doesn't count, but it was only four issues off, four issues too early. Steve wonders--was that the thing I was talking about, and did I just barely miss the date? But he is just musing. He will have to wait.

Steve can't catch my thoughts so easily, this morning, partly because we are rushed, but partly because his mind keeps drifting to a pair of whitish legs kicking through the water... :-)

The little things we remember about our beloved...not just sexualized things. Mathew wrote about one of them--when we were courting, just when we both admitted it to each other, so he could just stop by without having to have an official reason, just to see me...he did so, with some trepidation, of course, and I scrambled to find something left over that I could serve him, and it was some odd combination like corned beef and pickles. Something rather humorous, when you think back on it. But it was his first visit just to see me, without any excuse. And when he was grieving, and for all his life afterwards, he would remember it. So certain things would bring tears to his eyes--bare legs under water, and corned beef and pickles...

When you find your beloved again, either here in the astral realm, or in a subsequent incarnation--when you are back together, again, these things bring joy, not tears. Tuck and Patty, the jazz musicians, sing about this: "Besides of every tear that sorrow has left you, Tears of joy will take their place."

Count on this, dears. Hold on.

Merry Christmas,
Abby

*After typing this, Steve wondered, "And in Massachusetts or Maine, it must have been cold, too--do people even swim there, much less naked?" Yes, they do swim--and yes, it is cold! But Mathew would tell you it was worth it. And it was worth it to me, to make him happy, as well. I was never shy before Mathew--I only wanted to know that the profuse praise he showered on me in such situations, was sincere. (Since he still feels the same way, it must have been!) I am giving Steve the feeling that it would have been in a secluded spot on a lake. Oh, I just gave Steve the way I guessed what Mathew wanted. Well, we would read books, you see, and see figures of nymphs, and they are always scantily-clothed. And he would remark how I would look even more beautiful, if I was a nymph dressed that way. So of course I got the whim to indulge his secret wishes. He further gets the thought that it was a present (probably a birthday present, not for Christmas, since his birthday was in July). I had a habit of giving him memorable presents ;-).--A