I am Ginger. I speak for the Rabbits. This time I was asked if I would deliver a message to a human - you - who am I to say no? I am just a Bunny - 
she said to tell you that her heart belonged to you- until you decided you no longer wanted it. It has taken a while for her to understand, and she said she probably never will truly understand - but she accepts the facts. I can see she hurts - as I assume you are. And maybe you are not - I am just a little Bunny.
She said to tell you that you are now free. She decided to set YOU free - as she still had a hold on you. But she set you free. 
And she said to tell you she loved you. 
And she said to tell you that she will always have love in her heart for you - until the end of days.
And she said that she hopes your life will be a good one and that you find happiness and everything that you long for. 
And that's all.
Thank you!
Ginger.
(written in 2011 I think?)

My House – by Ingrid Phoenix Doerksen (C)

November 9, 2013 at 11:30am

My House ~

It has a small kitchen downstairs – with a small stove –and when you cook you should really leave the cupboard doors open or you stink up the place. The stove is a built-in type.

My house has many long hallways, leading into many rooms – all with so much closet space!
I only walk thru – while I cook/steam some vegetable – and brew some coffee.

I go upstairs and discover the main kitchen – oh my – so much space –all the walls are white.
Walls and walls of drawers and built-in platforms with collapsible appliances.
On the side are wide long drawers and I open the one on the bottom, to see that the previous owner left behind her silver. I must get that to her.

The entire wall on one side is cabinets – I can’t count how many – and as I open them I see the woman who used to live her used all that space – she even papered the cupboards.
She must have packed hastily at the end – or the movers did not open every cupboard door.

I will sort through it – some is trash, but one is this big blue velvet covered case,
At least 3 ft wide and 2 ft tall – and you open it and it is doubled in size and it has mementos tucked into compartment – all of a different size.
Some of the items I recognize, they are my mother’s and my sisters’ hand writings, postcards sent years ago, and tiny pot holders crocheted by my mom, I presume – they are in a patters I recognize as hers. – other knickknacks I only glance at before closing the case.

The neighbors are coming over, one is Kim who used to live next door to us (when we still lived in the other house)
Kim has friends over and someone wants coffee – so I offer to make a pot.
She comes along with me and is excited when I show her my house.

I see a magazine in one of the many shelves and it talks about a house being called The Castle. And that it has been used in the movies.
My house is big enough to be one, but I don’t think they are writing about my house, it is too modern looking – so I look outside, and up the street – much higher up on the top of the mountain I see 2 houses that could qualify being called The Castle. One is rusty brown or burgundy colored with light trim, and it has turrets and 2 or 3 small towers, to.
The other is an ocher colored older villa type house. Maybe its that one?

I turn away from that and follow Kim who opens a double door.
We see a round circle in the room before us – actually the room sits below us – so it has extra high ceilings. There is a railing to prevent us from falling and we rest on it and lean over and admire the tile work in the room,a large oval design – and looking around we decide this could be an indoor poolroom. One of her friends has joined us and we contemplate what sort of pool I’d get and put there – indoor swimming pool. We settle on a dough-boy.

Kim’s friend is having coffee and eating a big piece of a vegetable I had cooking on the stove earlier. I never said he could have it –but it is over-cooked and looks like a very limp head of lettuce. He seems to like it – oh well.

I am very excited to have this house and want to spread out,but not fill ever nook and cranny – especially once I open the door in the ceiling, leading to the attic. I see old and dusty items, boxes – stuff that seems to have been here forever, and having belonged to more than one owner. I decide then that I won’t be adding to the small pile – maybe sort though it some day. I close the door.

As I walk downstairs again, feeling very content about my life and what lies before me, I decide that the upstairs part (on the 2^ndfloor) will be the main living area ~~
I smile.”


Then I woke up.

(This is by far the most vivid dream I have ever remembered. Usually dreams fade quickly - this one did not. So I wrote it down. Nice house....and it did look like the picture I chose to put with this note )

Remember when....

Remember when...

After the inventory has been completed, the missing items replaced, some, anyway - others simply put out of mind, being they are out of sight, after the broken things have been discarded, the empty spaces filled with items dear - I look around and take note.
This is my home - it was before you came, and although while you were here I doubted at times if I could ever feel at home here again, I am reclaiming it, piece by piece, inch by inch.
Some signs remain, a missed fingerprint on the window - a forgotten item that fell in with the many knick knacks accumulated throughout the years - a whiff of a scent, thought to have left with you after you closed that door for the last time.
Still I jump from time to time, glancing at the clock, frantic to make it back in time, to not get chastised for being late for dinner that, I have to admit, was prepared lovingly.
Freedom from it all seems such a strange emotion. It does not feel real - not yet. So much is still left to do, but now I can tend to each task when I feel like it. The pressure has not yet lifted, it is a strange feeling, knowing I am no longer held accountable to rules set by you, rules I never agreed to - rules I had no idea would be part of what I had envisioned our lives to be.
It has only been four weeks since I last saw you. I would be lying if I said I do not miss you.
I loved talking with you so many months ago, I feared for your safety and fretted like a mother would knowing her child is in danger. The myriad of feelings experienced while you traveled thousands of miles to join me are such that I can't even find names for. All I remember is elation and joy upon learning you had arrived and were so very close.
I brought you home, into my sanctuary - and it felt right. For a while.
My soul was happy to connect with yours, and the human parts of us were enjoying each others' company, too. For a while.
It was only to last a few very short weeks before the madness would return, that part of you which I could only guess existed. The part of you that you would mention, in passing.
You never lied to me about your past, and the more you shared, the sadder I became. The human in me felt so sad about the life the human in you had to endure in just a few short years.
Momentary glimpses that our souls caught of each other kept us bound together, while life in this time and form quickly overtook everything and took away the happiness, to be replaced by trepidation, fears and doubt.
I watched you when you were sleeping, my beautiful angel - the man with a 1,000 faces, as I used to call you. You did have many faces - I could not give an accurate description of your features if pressed to do so. If I could paint, I doubt I would be able to extract the picture from my soul - which is where I keep it, safely tucked away, knowing one day I shall be reunited with you again, in a very different place than this life form, in this place we call earth.
I am angry at those who robbed you of the ability to love, which they did by withholding love from you - instead introducing brutality into the life of a toddler no human should ever experience. I realize these are human emotions, and I have been fighting my own internal battle, trying to understand, to comprehend, how all this works and the why.... why, oh why - and yet - I know the answers.
You see, my soul speaks to me and I understand that you chose this life to teach. Not just me, but many who have come into your life - and left.
This was and is your task here, at this time.
I appreciate the hard lesson I was taught by you. I know it was not easy for you, but you forged ahead and did what you came to do.
Remember, my soul observed and saw, and we spoke, without words.
You were steadfast with your mission, and knowing time was of the essence, you drove in the knife, deep, into my heart.
As I was crying out in pain, I was mourning the loss I knew was impending and yet, I allowed you to finish teaching your lesson.
Thank you for having enough constraint not to follow through all the way - which you could have easily done - like a fool I was antagonizing you, yet you kept yourself in control, hard as it was, you did.
My sweet angel, in three short months you managed to teach me a lesson I needed to learn. Sure - I already had the prerequisites, you know - the college credits I had earned before you came into my life. Little did I know that the hardest part would be taught fast and thoroughly.
I am told that we are the last of the old souls and once we return, we do not have to go back.
I will be looking for you so that I can tell you myself - thank you for teaching me to grow up.
I will always love you.

Let me ...just Be.

Someone is not happy that I chose to do what I want to do. I am not sorry. I am doing what is right for me.
It has been 11 days since I broke Free. That is not a very long time at all. I am only just realizing it.
Only just now spending time without dwelling on what happened.
Only now distracted enough to not notice the things that are missing, broken etc - instead, seeing what IS there.
Forgive me for looking out for myself for now. I need this time.
I am not ready at all to start something new. Or rekindle the past.
Let me ...just Be.
No pressures. That's the last thing I need right now..... *sigh*

April 18, 2014