n caregiving and love, I share what my husband and I experience on an intimate level. I love Clem. In body or out of body it does not matter. He is the Love of my life and beyond.
Merging by Allison L. Williams Hill
On Wednesday, March 20, 2012, Clem ate only one meal. The past month he ate only two because of prolonged sleeping. It was afternoon, I think, maybe 2 or 3. I walked Clem into the bathroom.
Two by Allison L. Williams Hill
“Do you want to live?” I asked.
“No,” he replied in a whisper. I did not believe the answer. I was not certain he said it.
“Do you want to live?” I asked again. I moved closer to him to make sure I heard him right.
“No,” he said in the same small whisper.
“Why?” He looked down. “You think I am having an affair.” I said it. I did not ask it.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“How?!” We had gone through this before. He could never tell me how I achieved this. He just said he thought so.
I sat on the side of the tub opposite him. “How?” I asked again. “You still feel this way?
Are you thinking I’ll put you away and reconnect with ----?” Clem nodded his head. I waited a few seconds.
“Because you think you are not the man I married?” He nodded.
“You’re not. I ask you to do something, you do it. I clean you, feed you, dress you. I am still here doing this, aren’t I?”
He nodded.
“I’ve been here over a year and anytime I could have placed you in a facility, right?” He nodded.
“And I haven’t, Clem. I’m still here doing all of this. Clem, I take my vows seriously: ‘for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health.’ I made my choice, Clem. I asked Spirit if I should place you in a facility thinking you would be better off there. They said ‘No.’ It also said I have the strength and ability for this. You are my heart. You are it for me. If you go before me, you know after you cross the Bridge to create our home and come to meet me. If I go before you, I know after I cross the Bridge to create our home and I come to meet you. I am with you forever.
We married in 2003 in Barbados. I cannot recall the words said at our wedding. We had as few people there as required by Barbadian law. I heard the minister's words. He had a lovely voice. But I was looking at the man I was in love with and feeling the energies that surrounded us. He was it, for life and after. The minister might have used the words, "...until death do you part."
Our union transcends corporeal existence. We found each other in this life, in this time, on this planet. We were together before. I sense this is the last incarnation.
Our time is a learning experience. We planned this life. However, a difficult part of this is accepting the plan while we live it. Our bodies can feel and we can speak. We do not use these abilities as we should.
I thought about Jon Peniel’s teacher, Zain, in his book The Lost Teachings of Atlantis who told him that he would be in the line of Angels when he made the transition. I don’t know which is real or true. If we do not make the transition together, we would be separated by others who come between us. And perhaps, such feelings have no place where we will ultimately end up. I do know that our existence here, fraught with pain, anguish, and a particular kind of uncertainty, is illusion. The brilliant glimmers of love expressed in many ways sustain and are real.
I learned later, after Clem crossed over that he distrusted the man that was on his mind. He was able to project to where he could see everything- everything we thought, felt, and experienced. He was in a timeless state. He saw that this man's heart was not true.