CHAPTER 11
THE PHOENIX BIRD
November 27, 2003, eleven months after Sharon’s death, Ron and I flew to Phoenix to spread Sharon’s ashes. It was Thanksgiving Day. We decided to make it a celebration of her life. Chris and Heidi were now living in Las Vegas and were going to meet us in Phoenix.
We met Chris and Heidi at the hotel Thanksgiving evening and had dinner with them. The next day we all ate breakfast at a nearby restaurant and traveled a few miles to the mountain area where we had decided to spread Sharon’s ashes. We hiked up the mountain and found a quiet area off the designated path where there was a rock formation. We each had some ashes to spread. Heidi had the ashes of one of our dogs, Kaci, Chris had the ashes of his dog, Scruffy, a dog he grew up with who was his best friend. Chris, Ron, and I each had some of Sharon’s ashes. We each found a place we found peaceful and right for us, and we spread the ashes. After spreading Sharon’s ashes, we spent a few minutes in prayer. Ron and I went down the mountain on foot while Heidi and Chris went farther up the mountain to spread Scruffy’s ashes. When we got to the bottom of the mountain, Ron took out a camera we had brought with us to take pictures of the area. He informed me the camera would not work, and he couldn’t take any pictures. The thought came to me immediately that Sharon did not want us to take any pictures and this was a special place for us and was to be our experience only. When I looked up at the area where I had spread the ashes I could see the face of a woman on the rock and to the left of the area a gentleman figure in another rock formation. I felt this was indeed the right thing to do, and it was a very peaceful and spiritual experience. We had kept some of Sharon’s ashes at home in Oregon with the intention to spread the rest of her ashes on the Oregon coast.
The information I received at Hanbleca was that we should spread the ashes where we would find peace. Besides making peace with Phoenix, I would be honoring the vision I received of Sharon on my second Hanbleca in which she appeared to me coming out of the center of a Phoenix bird.
We had a lot to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day. We were thankful for a daughter who was given to us for a brief period of time and who gave us the greatest gift, the realization of life after death and an awareness of our connection to all things, the most important of which is spirit. That day we also traveled to Sedona, had dinner in a nice, small Mexican restaurant, and spent the night at a nearby hotel with a view of the red rocks.
One month passed, and it was now December 2003. Ron and I both reconsidered our decision about spreading the rest of Sharon’s ashes on the Oregon Coast. We both felt they should all be spread in Phoenix. In January we received a wedding invitation. One of Sharon’s friends was getting married in the Phoenix area. We accepted the invitation. On February 11, 2004 at 12:30 pm, we arrived at the airport. I checked the departure screen and found there was an earlier flight leaving for Phoenix at 1:30 and our plane wasn’t leaving until 4 pm. We were able to secure seats on the earlier flight. I felt it odd that this flight had not appeared on the scheduled flights on the Internet when I reserved our tickets. When we boarded the flight, I noticed a young girl across the aisle from me. She was very attractive and was studying what seemed to be a textbook. There was something familiar about this girl, and her profile looked just like Sharon. She wore her hair up on the top of her head tied with a rubber band and wore a sweatshirt much like Sharon’s. After two and a half hours, we arrived in Phoenix, stopped briefly for a bite to eat, and headed straight to the hotel. We were very exhausted and decided to go to bed early. It was 5:15 am by the clock next to the bed when I awoke the next morning and was unable to go back to sleep. Eventually I dozed off and found myself out of my body floating out the window of the hotel up toward the sky. I’d had this experience a few times before, so it did not frighten me. The sun had not come up yet. It was just before dawn. I wanted to fly up higher in the sky and immediately was able to do so. Next I was on a very busy street with lots of people walking on the sidewalk much like New York City. I was weaving my way in and out of the people, and no one could see me, but I could see everyone. Next, I was back in the hotel room. All of a sudden, someone behind me swung me around, and I came face to face with Sharon. She was dressed in a lime green top and shorts to match and had on sunglasses. When she swung me around, we both landed on the bed, and she put the sunglasses down on her nose so she could glance over the top of them. I hugged her, and we were both very happy. Then I saw the word “Gifts” and a remembrance garden area we dedicated to Sharon in our backyard in Oregon and the words “Thank you.” The next thing I remember, I woke up fully aware I was back in my body. It was now 7:30 am, and I got up and started to write down this experience. I looked at the wall in the hotel, and a vision appeared of the face of woman with a tear coming out of her eye and a smaller figure behind her. The message came to me, “I do not want you to be sad. It is time for the sadness to be over, Mom. I am always with you. That is why you had this experience, to show you what it is like. I can indeed see you, so I don’t miss you. You have the harder part. Blessed are those who believe and do not see for theirs is the kingdom of heaven on earth. I will always love you. Now go spread the ashes and be happy. I’m home. The process is finished. Go in peace.” I wrote down all I heard knowing this was truly a remarkable experience Sharon had shared with me. That day Ron and I spread the rest of Sharon’s ashes in the same mountainous area of Phoenix. The following day, we attended Sharon’s friend’s wedding and returned home the day after.
Two months passed, and I realized I needed to finish my commitment of four years to the Hanbleca ceremony which had been such an important part of my life. One of my reasons for this Hanbleca was to ask what my life’s purpose was and what did I come to learn this lifetime. I also wanted to pray, so that I might see Sharon face-to-face. I had seen her in dreams and journeys, but I wanted to be able to see her spirit and talk to her.
On April 30, 2004, Ron and I traveled once again to Albuquerque for Hanbleca. This was my fourth and last year. Chris who was living in Las Vegas traveled to Albuquerque and decided to go up the mountain this year as well, and it was his second year. Ron, this year as he had done in the past, would take the role of the person who would stay at the base of the mountain and give people that came down from the mountain a ride back to the sweat lodge area, which was a forty-minute drive.
On Sunday, May 2, 2004, seventeen of us climbed the mountain into Bear Canyon. I carried my Chanupa up the hill as I had done for the previous three years. As we climbed the hill, Chief Phil Crazy Bull was in front of us leading us up the hill. He crossed over a stream of water coming down the mountain. He announced to everyone to take some water as they passed over the stream, and it would be our last drink for four days. Ron set up my Hochaka, and after he left, I sat down on my sleeping bag and began to pray with the Chanupa. The bowl of the Chanupa kept separating from the stem and was continually falling apart. The thought came to me, “Sometimes you can’t fix things that are broken. Sometimes you just have to accept it.” I have always thought I could fix situations, but this was very good advice.
Late in the afternoon, it began to get chilly, and I put on my thermal underwear under my skirt and blouse and looked at the rocks directly in front of my Hochaka. A vision began to appear. There was an older Native American gentleman lying on his left side on the ground. Next to him was a child, and I could see what looked like tricycle pedals up in the air, and it looked like the child had fallen off the tricycle. The gentleman was giving what looked like a plant to the child. Behind the gentleman and looking away from both of them was a woman. The thought came to me, “Native American men must learn to nurture their children.” Not knowing what this meant for me, I just wrote it in my journal. By the position of the sun in the western sky and the cool breeze I thought I should put on my warmer clothes and get in my sleeping bag. It wouldn’t be long before it was sunset and darkness would descend upon the canyon. I thought a few hours had passed, and I could now see the moon high in the sky to the right of my Hochaka. It was cold that evening, though I was comfortable with my fleece pants, coat, and fleece hat. I was glad I had thought to bring warm wool socks. I turned to my left side, and in the bushes on a hill, I began to see a vision of a group of eight children. They were happy and seemed to be playing. I began to think about the Sundance, another Lakota ceremony that was held each year in Arizona that honored the children, those who have passed to the spirit world and those still present here on earth. I felt an unexplainable urging to attend this ceremony. I then fell asleep and woke up when the moon was high in the sky and to the left of my Hochaka. I assumed it was close to dawn. It was still quite cold when light appeared in the Eastern sky. The sun had not yet risen above the mountains. It was interesting to watch the sun rise ever so slowly above the mountains. Soon sunshine began to appear in the canyon.
It was now day two. The warm sunshine was slowly entering my Hochaka, and I decided it was time to take off all of the clothing that had kept me so warm all night long. It took me a while to take off all of the clothing. I had very little energy to do just simple tasks. I was very thirsty as the sun beat down on my Hochaka and began to think about how important water is and how little I seemed to appreciate it each day until I had none. I continued to pray with my Chanupa about my life’s purpose. I got up and ventured out of my Hochaka to a large rock and carried my Chanupa. It was a peaceful area overlooking the canyon below, and in the distance I could see the city of Albuquerque. I sat there a few moments and heard the words, “Go back in your Hochaka.” I felt comfortable where I was and didn’t want to go back as directed. Again, but this time more adamantly came the words, “Go back in your Hochaka.” Reluctantly I left the rock and went back to sit in my Hochaka. My family history flashed through my mind and those individuals who had experienced the disease of alcoholism. I realized how judgmental I had become. Just then the black prayer flag, which is for the prayers of others, fell from one of the willow sticks on which it had been tied. I heard the words, “When others fall, you need to pick them up and show compassion.” I looked to the left of my Hochaka where there was the sound of gravel moving as if someone was coming up the mountain toward me. I reached for my Chanupa and was fearful not knowing who it was or if it was an animal. It stopped. I then heard what sounded like footsteps behind the Hochaka and beyond the bushes on the path. No one appeared. The word “Fear” came to me. Just then a spider appeared on one of my willow sticks. Hesitantly, I got up and inspected it hoping it was not a black widow spider. To the right of my Hochaka I saw a huge black beetle going out of my Hochaka headed up a hill. The thoughts came, ”Fear is prohibiting you from moving forward.” Pictures flashed before me of everything I had been and was still fearful of. As a child I was fearful of bugs. I was fearful on occasion when I would be driving on the highway especially at night. The thoughts again came that Sharon would not appear to me unless I was no longer fearful. She did not want to frighten me. She had tried it before in dreams, and I had become fearful. I felt disappointed that Sharon would probably not appear but also realized what I was being told was entirely correct.
From the position of the sun above me I guessed it was about 12 noon. I sat up and looked once again at the rock formations in front of my Hochaka. A vision started to form. I saw a very large black woman, dressed in what appeared to be an old Red Cross nursing uniform. She was walking toward people seated in front of her. There was an unshaven man with a blanket around him and the words came, “Less fortunate, homeless.” I saw a large figure of a person whose head was turned to the right and the rest of the body was turned to the left. I heard the words, “Disjointed, fragmented lives.” To the left of this scene there appeared another vision. There was a young woman, though she looked like Sharon I could not be sure it was. She was caring for a baby in a crib, and to the left of her there was another person caring for two individuals who seemed to be sick. The mouth of one of these individuals appeared to be opened and non-responsive. I heard the words, “Administer to the sick and dying.” I picked up my journal and began to write all of this down. Late in the afternoon. I lay down on my sleeping bag within my Hochaka and closed my eyes. I saw a motion picture of a person wheeling someone in a wheelchair down a hallway and around a corner. I also began to reflect back on the past six months before Hanbleca and how many people I had met who were sick and dying.
Once again I looked at the rock formation, and I saw myself lying down and Sharon watching over me. I knew she was close by.
The sun was beginning to set when I felt I needed to do a visualization exercise. I lay on my sleeping bag and pictured the word “Grief” pouring out of my body and being placed just outside my Hochaka. It appeared outside the Hochaka as a pile of sand. Next I pictured the word “Sorrow” and placed it outside my Hochaka. The last word was “Loss” and again in the same manner, it came out of my body, and I placed it outside the Hochaka. When I finished this exercise, I pictured three piles of sand outside my Hochaka, and I no longer felt like I was carrying those with me.
The second night, the moon was full, and I stayed awake most of the night hoping Sharon would appear, so that I could speak to her. As hard as I tried I could not create this vision for myself. Frequently in the past I would doubt what I saw and felt perhaps I was creating this somehow in my mind. The thoughts came to me, “You can’t make it happen.” This was something I was not capable of creating but something given to me at a specific time and for a specific purpose. I dozed off for a brief period and awoke to see the most beautiful Native American design on a large rock to the right of my Hochaka. It looked like a gray blanket with black designs and white diamonds. It looked like a Native American blanket had been placed over the rock. A second, much smaller rock in the same area was covered with the same design. Within this rock there appeared the face of a Native American woman with dark black hair falling gently in front of her shoulders. It was the White Buffalo Calf Woman. I had seen her once before, at the time of my second Hanbleca when she had helped Sharon pass over into the spirit world. She spoke to me saying, “Remember the people; remember these ways.” It was such an emotional message, I began to cry. I lay there for a few moments and then heard Sharon say, “All I ask of you is to remember me as loving you.”
Light was beginning to appear in the canyon. It was now dawn on the third day. I had my vision, my prayers were answered, and I headed down the mountain. I waited at the base of the mountain with another gentleman who had come down. I could hear Ron’s car approaching on the gravel road leading down to the base of the mountain. Ron told us it was about 7 am, and he was surprised to find us waiting for him. He drove us back to the lodge, so we could begin our last two rounds of the Inipi. As I waited for Chief Phil Crazy Bull in the house next to the lodge, I still continued to see visions of children. Within a few hours Phil arrived and I completed the last two rounds of the Inipi along with the other gentleman and Chris, my son, who had also had his vision and had come down. Chris recounted his vision. Sharon had come to him in words. Though he did not see her, he could hear her. He spent two hours talking to her about various issues in his life.
The fourth day, I got up early and went back with Ron to the base of the mountain. I continued to see visions when I looked at the mountain. I saw a figure of a very large Native American woman. I knew I was in the presence of something more powerful than one could accurately describe. The people still on that mountain were being watched over and cared for in a very powerful spiritual way.
The next day was Thursday, day five, and we arrived at the base of the mountain at 7 am to help the other vision questers down from the mountain. One by one they came down, and the supporters carried their sleeping bags and essentials they had brought with them. After the last two rounds of the Inipi, everyone was instructed to smoke the tobacco in their Chanupa and to put their prayer ties, flags, and willow sticks into the fire. One by one we did as instructed. Whopila followed the ceremony with food and gift giving. By noon the festivities were over. Chief Phil Crazy Bull asked me to see him at his home that afternoon, so that he could present me with a Chanupa. After your fourth year of Hanbleca you are gifted with a Chanupa. Ron, Chris, and I arrived at his home around 2 pm. When he gave me the Chanupa, he told me that he had one in mind to give me but was told by Sharon what specific Chanupa to give me. She told him it was a Chanupa she could come through to me. I didn’t realize exactly what he meant until he gave me the Chanupa. It was the Chanupa I had used the second year of Hanbleca when Sharon came through very clearly with several messages, the most important of which was that she said good-bye and that she loved us.
On Friday, May 7, 2004, we boarded the plane to Portland. I felt I had left my grief, sorrow, and loss on the mountain and had a sense of needing to move forward now.
On Sunday, June 6, I was reading the newspaper. I was looking at the classified section under Dogs and came across what I thought was an interesting combination, a poodle terrier mix. We had always loved terriers but didn’t know much about poodles. We decided to call, and the gentleman on the other end of the phone was cordial and informative about the dog. Ron and I decided to meet and look at the puppy. We met at a store in Troutdale near the rehabilitation center where Sharon had been.The man brought three puppies with him. Two were terrier poodle mixes, and the other was a Schnitzu. We picked the black poodle terrier who seemed to be more social than the other two and took her home. We named her Cheyenne. Cheyenne brought joy and laughter back into our house. She loved to play with her toys, sit on my lap, and lick my face. She was a very social animal who provided us with unconditional love. I thought back about my second Hanbleca experience and Sharon telling me, “A little baby is coming.” At the time I thought it was a grandchild, but I now know it was Cheyenne she was taking about. From the moment we got her we have called her affectionately “baby” and she only weighed two pounds.