“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I was eating breakfast at 7:50 when I received a call from the hospital. The call scared me at that hour. The nurse said Jane wasn’t good. They couldn’t get her comfortable, she wasn’t eating breakfast, and she wanted me to come down. Jan was to tell Jane at once if I’d see her. I left the breakfast, the cats, the house, turned off the lights, and drove down. I didn’t think it was a life-or-death crisis, but the result of our conversations lately, and the sessions, the panic attacks, and so forth. It was raining heavily when I left the house.

(Jane was uncomfortable, up to her shoulders on two full chucks, propped and wedged so she couldn’t move. I had two nurses hold her up while I got rid of the chucks. We got her positioned much more comfortably. Jane cried at times, but not excessively. She’d had Darvoset before I arrived. Actually, I felt her upset was another good sign.

(I hadn’t realized that her grandfather, Joseph Burdo — “Little Daddy,” as Jane had called him — had spent a couple of years in a hospital for TB when Jane had been around ten years old. I also understood as we talked that when Jane’s grandfather had wanted to move out of the house on Middle Avenue, he had sold all the furniture and had the utilities turned off. Marie then succeeded in thwarting his plans and banned him from the house. To Jane this had seemed like a second divorce in the family. This hurt the six-year old girl. Her parents had divorced when she was 3.

(Jane cried as she told me things I hadn’t heard before. I said she had to put the past in its place if ever she was to be free. She came up with a number of memories new to me — like going to the youth center on Saratoga Springs’ lower Broadway on weekend evenings to dance and socialize, and so forth. She cited many things she’d enjoyed doing very much — running, skating, dancing, and just sheer walking for the fun of it. Even then she had loved nature.

(I was pleased. In view of all of those early enjoyable events she’d had, I suggested she try focusing on them in times of stress, instead of the negative ones we usually talk about. All in all, I think we learned a great deal, and that we had hope after all, in contrast to my mood yesterday.

(When I asked her if she wanted to have a session, she said in surprise that she had no idea for one, and was hardly ready or in the mood. I said she didn’t have to. She was obviously getting restless and had been on her back long enough. But almost at once Jane began a session after all. She spoke slowly, eyes closed often, her voice still uneven and very emotional at times, even quavering.)

(4:24 p.m. “I had to stop several times because of bladder spasms,” Jane said, which helped account for her uneven delivery. She said that at the same time she’d felt panicky a couple of times, and she’d had a very catchy, well-known tune running through her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I was getting from Seth: ‘Ruburt will make out okay in hydro,’ because it’s something I’ve been dreading.”

(Jane didn’t eat much for supper, which seemed okay. I was getting tired. I left at 7:15 and drove to the funeral home. I felt self-conscious about my blue jeans and shoes. I’d left the house so early and quickly I hadn’t had time to plan for anything to wear more formally. I carried with me the jacket I usually wear when I nap at 330 — it looked a bit more presentable.

(But I soon discovered at the funeral home that it mattered not; people wore anything. I met John, Margaret, and others there, and signed a guest book. Joe lay in a deep crimson casket. I told John that he really did look peaceful, as at no other time in his life. It was the same feeling I’d had staring at my parents in their respective caskets. People laughed and joked. I told John I expected to attend the service tomorrow at the funeral home, that I was willing to be an honorary pallbearer, providing the times worked out. They all understood, since they knew I’d been at the hospital all day. I don’t think I’d better consider being late to 330, after today’s events. I told the Bumbalos I’d call if anything came up early in the day. John said they have enough food to feed me for a week, after it’s all over. Life goes on, even in our reality.