The soul contrives to have many dark nights. How many? As many as it takes, apparently. Whenever you are spinning your wheels and mud is flying but you are not going anywhere, that is a dark night of sorts.
Now that Bob has been gone almost eight years now, I am more in love with him than ever. For his eternal righteousness has been proven. While he was yet with me, he had stinky feet and a drippy nose. Now those qualities no longer bother me.
Okay, you want me to get serious, right? You want me to tell you that he reached out from the great beyond and sent me a special delivery from Bob’s Flower Shoppe. That he did! I was smack in the middle of a dark night when the yellow candle bearing that flower shop name arrived. I had said to him fervently and urgently, “Send me a yellow rose to prove you are alive and well.” And so he did.
And then I saw the online image of the yellow rose that Mr. Cohen had sent to Sharon Robinson. I told my friend, BB, who had ordered the yellow candle not knowing that I had “talked” to Bob about giving me a sign. She said, “There will be a third sign from him,” and then you will know.
This has nothing whatsoever to do with nonduality and everything to do with the sort of love that death cannot diminish. I like to share with my readers the essence of what I know to be true. And so I do.