Two down, none to go.

Our wedding-113

The very existence of this post is proof I have temporarily overcome my intense grief. And I don’t know where to begin. But here is as good a place as any.

It is my intention in writing this to shed some light on the path. I really struggle to accept too much attention and sympathy. But I would struggle even more if I didn’t get it. I’m sure someone far more famous than I will ever be once said something along lines of our needing to be understood. If someone makes the effort to understand where I’m coming from that is all I ever ask. I will never ask anybody now-in my days as a political activist the opposite was the case-to accept and believe what I’m saying.

Vanessa was a very private person. So even though she has “gone” part of me is reluctant to even announce that fact. The unfortunate reality is that-pause for ironic laughter- she is my wife and has a place on the most public of forums, a website. In the foreseeable future I will have to edit the site. I look forward to doing that as much as crashing my car.

When you spend some 36 years with someone (Anne) your boundaries and distinctions can become eroded. When you live, work and (want to be) with someone all the time you get to a place where it is completely natural. I know many people don’t want this and I respect that. And you do run the risk of catastrophe if anything happens to the other person. I’ll never know with certainty whether this is a personal choice or part of my psychological make-up. I was an only child and spent-I had friends of course-my life up to the age of 22 without any serious relationship. Yes, I know what loneliness means.

My time with Anne was a time of continuous personal change. I hung most of my “shit” on being adopted and not being told, as was the fashion in the 50’s. My beautiful parents, long now in spirit, were forgiven ages ago and forgiveness gave way to feeling incredibly blessed. After all we chose each other. We know, or we think we do, (do we?) that the “external” world is an out-picturing of our internal world. And our external world is also a mirror. So when someone upsets us, criticises us or attempts to browbeat us the harsh truth is we have that potential or actuality within us. We are all one, someone upsets us, aren’t we are all upset? And if thoughts are things- they are-we might not “retaliate” but we may resist the lesson the other person is teaching us. For some, they usually become psychotherapy clients in later life, unprocessed resentment which follows betrayal or any kind of abuse, can haunt them forever.

(This is now a time to invest in the power of forgiveness if you haven’t already done so.)

As I look back on my life to where it all began to where I am now, still flawed, still searching and still a huge work in progress I am certainly not at the point where I can look back with satisfaction.

So what happens when we leave the “earth plane” with unfinished business? Do we still have any regrets? I’ve covered resentment. Do we still have lingering thoughts about rejection and abandonment?

Until last week I didn’t think I had any regrets, but I do. And is there a part of me feels rejection and abandonment? There is. To quote again Wayne Dyer I don’t think I will go to spirit with my song still in me, and I’m going to do what I can to let go of regrets and abandonment. How significant are these?

My therapeutic practice is informed by the worldview, as is German New Medicine, that any unresolved childhood trauma has the potential to bring this incarnation to a “premature” end. And I also believe that cellular memory from our ancestral line and/or past lives has the same potential. Can I prove this? Do I need to address the “evidence” mind-set of the mainstream? As far as I know there are no double-blind trials on the subject. There are thousands of case studies, and real-life examples you can find on YouTube which support this but these can all be rationalised away.

Vanessa Stewart, nee Graham, later Thetford then Gage was perfection. In her last days she brought me to the point of unconditional love. When I met her in 2014, then fell in love with her in 2015 I still had much to change about myself. I’d like to think that although she had far less to change herself, I had a positive impact on her. The purely material side of our relationship, going out, travelling, doing routine domestic tasks, administrative necessities, leisure activities and work were probably the same as most couples. Vanessa always wanted to love and be loved. Anyone who got close to her felt loved. I was the luckiest man alive when I became her second husband. Again from a purely “3-D”, material perspective we met “by chance” a year after Anne and I moved to Malvern from the north-west of England. Luck, serendipity, randomness. She was a real beauty. A stunningly attractive woman. She looked 10 years younger than she was. She was the best listener I have ever met. If you talked to Vanessa, she engaged with you. When I was in the unbelievable position to have a relationship with her after Anne passed, I went for it. That is who I am. I did the same for my first wife Linda-a disastrous but very necessary relationship-and my second wife Anne. I can’t, won’t and see no reason not to give it all I have. At times, because she told me, Vanessa found it overpowering. So it had some negative consequences.

There is nothing that she did during our 4+ years together that wasn’t necessary. Yes, she did do things that at the time upset me massively. And so did I, obviously. But there is nothing she did that didn’t have a positive intention. One constant between us is that we both accepted any “faults” we had contributed to our each being 50% responsible. If I were to accept 80% responsibility what does that mean? Nothing. We were partners in each other’s personal growth, painful though it was at times.

I still respect Vanessa’s privacy so I am leaving out the personal stuff. All I can say is that we shared times I had never experienced before and I doubt will ever again. Just walking through places like Budapest and Athens with her was like living in a dream. Seeing the name “Vanessa Stewart” on documents made me want to pinch myself. And yet I know from brief conversations with her friends she felt the same.

My biggest regret? Not having kids of my own.

Despite our occasional differences, knowing Vanessa’s daughters, Sam and Livs, has been and is an unbelievable privilege. My own childhood, loving and probably better than 90% of the population, was not the ideal preparation for wanting children. It is as if the paternal part of me was never awakened. It didn’t happen when it could have done with my first wife. It didn’t happen, though it was possible, with Anne. And it didn’t happen because it was impossible with Vanessa. But she admitted she would have loved to have my child had we met 40 years earlier. But we didn’t, she met Gary and they produced two wonderful young women. Luck, serendipity, randomness. How much of my self-generated “differences” with Sam and Livs are down to the fact I would like to have been in their lives from the beginning? This really is a hypothesis. Vanessa’s ex-husband Gary is a wonderful man and a wonderful father.

(No, Jack you can’t justify anything using this as an excuse!-your Higher Self)

Before and since Anne passed my relationship with her wonderful younger daughter Jan has gone from strength to strength. I was too screwed up when Jan and (other daughter) Karen came into my life in 1979 to really appreciate them. I had nothing to draw upon to be anything other than a part-time/adequate stepfather. They may say I was inadequate and they would be right. I have forgiven myself.

When you lose someone like Vanessa you search like a man possessed for answers. To revisit all the highs of our lives together is the worst kind of masochism, the best kind of therapy. To walk round the house seeing her beautiful face on our wedding day, a snapshot of us taken abroad, and another favourite of mine Vanessa, myself, Sam and Livs on our wedding day is both a form of torture and a reminder of heaven on earth. At any given moment, literally in a heartbeat, I can access a kaleidoscope of images of a smiling Vanessa in 100 different places, times and situations.

It’s now four years since my darling Anne passed. August 22, 2015. Does it still hurt? Occasionally. I am almost fully at peace with it. And why is that? One word? Vanessa.

I didn’t need Vanessa to “get over” Anne. Had we not fallen in love I would have always admired and respected her. Only in the last few weeks, in my opinion, did Vanessa realise how many lives she had touched. We live in a very cynical, very disturbed and regularly distressing age which is a necessary storm before the calm. Deep down I know this, but the daily reinforcement through the media does get to me. When Vanessa was in my life I had my “Ascension” all around me. The heaven on earth that is coming I already had. Single-handedly she created that world for me and I embraced it with a passion. To me it was no coincidence that the highest of the highs were spent in sacred places in England, Greece, France, Hungary and Portugal. To be with Vanessa in Avebury, Silbury Hill, Ancient Mycenae, Arcadia, Monemvasia, Montsegur, Carcassonne, Narbonne, Budapest and Sintra. I cannot imagine in my wildest dreams that “Nosso Lar” could be any better. And to revisit those places, which I want to because I love and hold them precious, without her fills me with a dark, deep depression.

Maybe you are getting some sense of what I have lost. Time for some “Angel.”

Vanessa and I had our differences, and when she became ill in 2017 it placed a great strain on our relationship. The intimacy and delight of walks, bike rides, visits to exotic places and a host of other aspects slowly slipped away. The life force of this stunning, lively, engaging, compassionate, funny, beautiful and quite exceptional human being began to wane. Hardly noticeable at first, and there were many other highs to come, all of which maintained hope, but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same. Even when she passed and her body had given up all I could see was the woman I married. Understandably, and there is no doubt I would be the same had it happened to me, the deterioration of the physical for Vanessa was almost impossible to take.

Angel.

We were told by more than one psychic that we had spent many lives together. In a rather light-hearted but profound presentation at our wedding I gave a humorous insight to a small sample of these. I often reflect how many of our wonderful guests actually saw the profound..

During the difficult times this knowing, for that’s what it is even though at the moment I’m having to process my anger feeling cheated that she has been taken from me, kept me going. I also know in the next few days my beloved will “come through” my “soul son” Jonathan Brown. And I know further in mentioning this it could be upsetting. But I cannot apologise for my truth and it was Vanessa’s truth. Four years ago it was my truth and it was Anne’s truth. Whatever happens to me from now on will always, always be seen through the lens of spirit. I have seen life through a spiritual lens consistently when Princess Diana chose Anne to channel her wisdom in 2011. Before that, life through a spiritual lens was 30 years in the making. As Anne’s health declined from June to August 2015 I had one massive spiritual crisis. For an hour I raged at God, condemned “spirit”, rejected everything Anne had introduced me to and lapsed back into my old atheist self. I was consumed with anger. Thank God no one else was present, my anger was incandescent.

For those of us who write regularly, difficult topics like this are therapeutic. I really fought myself at the beginning. My spiritual awakening has been going on for over 60 years. When I meet people who find “Angel” challenging, fear-inducing or just plain nonsense it takes me back to a time when I was exactly the same. And no, forgive me if I ever appear so, I am not smug or superior to anyone who believes differently. It is my truth, and I believe it is the truth. My path is gone from luck, serendipity and randomness to faith and re-connection. My at times difficult to stomach optimism still burns brightly.

There has never been for me anyone like Vanessa, there is no “Vanessa” left on the earth plane because she has “gone”, and I know with certainty I will not find another Vanessa. I don’t want to.

Two down and one to go. But not yet.

Blessings to you all, respect to you all and may you live long and happy lives whatever you believe. I hope I have shined some light on the path.

Amongst other things Vanessa means “butterfly”. After I walked out of the hospice having just seen her pass, the first thing I noticed outside was a cabbage white butterfly. But then they are common at this time of year…And…I have just come off the phone having spoken to her best friend, Fiona. Yesterday, Fiona was in the garden, and noticed a white feather. She made a mental note of the time. It was 11.30 a.m. (Fiona believes in spirit and all of the above.) Livs called her shortly after Vanessa had passed. Just after she shared the news with her partner, Keith. Another white feather…

Jack Stewart, April 24, 2019.

Vanessa Stewart, born May 28th, 1958, passed peacefully to spirit 11.30 a.m., August 23rd, 2019.

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