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Bedtime Story

By Patricia Briggs

Once I was tucked into bed and my parents had left the room, I would curl up to look through my story book. This story book was a creation of my own imagination and perhaps something more. I can still see the book in my mind today; it was huge. It about two feet wide and three feet long. I would focus in on one specific story and read it every single night before falling to sleep. I read it so often it is etched in my brain forever. I knew that I would carry it with me long after the book was gone. Decades have passed but I still remember the story vividly.

My bedtime Story:


This story begins after I have miraculously found the love of my life and he is my partner. We complete each other and even as a small child reading this story, I understand that what we have is extremely unique and special, almost unheard of during these times. We work together helping others. There is an urgency to what we do. We are trying to help as many people as we can before our time runs out. The people range from young to old, from few to many, and any other combination therein. Once we have located different people, we guide them to a specific place and instruct them on what they need to do next.


In this place is a large tree standing alone in the middle a field. At the base of the tree is a place that we call in the story the ‘opening.’ The opening is not what we traditionally think of as an opening. To look at it, there is nothing to see that makes it different from the rest of the tree. It is what today I would call an energy vortex or a gateway to other places and times. We instruct the people that we guide here to go through this opening. We cannot go with them through the opening; we can only guide them to the opening. The rest is up to each person; most choose to go through the opening.


From our perspective, they walk into the tree and disappear from the reality that we are in. I don’t know where they are going. I know that we may bring them as a group to the tree, but they walk through individually. Each will disperse to where they need to go next, individually and not necessarily together with their previous group. I also instinctively understand that once each one walks into the opening there is no turning back; the choice has been made.


As the years pass, I have a knowing that eventually my partner and I will have our time and turn to walk through the opening. When this time comes, I don’t want to let go of my partner. I want to be with my partner forever because of the love between us and our mutual sense of completeness together.


In my mind, I search for ways to ensure that when we go through the tree, we end up together in the same place and same time. I hatch a plan that we will walk through the opening together holding hands and if fate is on our side, we will end up together on the other side. With my plan in place, I focus on our work at hand.


The urgency of our work only increases as time passes. There is a strong sense that the clock is ticking, and time is running out for people. The groups of people passing through the opening are getting larger and larger. Sometimes, things get very chaotic around our tree.


The day comes when I know this is the last group we will bring to the tree. This last group is particularly large, and it is a very chaotic passage because of their number. Finally, we get everyone through. We start to walk towards the tree together, holding hands, and I take one last look around to remember our work and time here together. As I look, I notice two children huddled under a little table together. They look scared like they got left behind. They are all alone. There is no one else around.


We need to help them pass through first. I ask my partner to wait a minute. I let go of his hand and turn to the children to coax them to me. When I get closer, I see two little girls holding hands. As I turn back towards the tree with the girls, I don’t see my partner.


He is no longer here. He must not have heard me. He went through without me. I am devastated.


Compartmentalizing my feelings for the moment, I get the girls through the opening. Then go through the opening. There is nothing left to stay here for.  


The grass is a deep yet vibrant shade of green that I have never seen before. The sky is a crystal blue that is unbelievable and takes my eyes a few moments to adjust to because of its brightness. This place is very peaceful. I can hear the soft murmur of water somewhere beyond the rolling green hills. If I was not so upset, I would say this place was perfect.


Unfortunately, I can’t appreciate the beauty nor tranquility at this time. I observe different lone figures dressed in white gowns walking slowly and quietly across the green grass. I run from one person to another feeling out of control and crying hysterically. I am searching for my partner because he is lost to me. My panic and grief are so out of control that even I can feel my discordant effect on the tranquility of this place, on some level.


Inside, I feel alone, …… again, …… like it was before I miraculously found my partner ….. only it is worse, now …. I know what it feels like to be as one. 




This occurred every night, before I fell to sleep, until I was about 8 years old. This started before I could read written words. I suspect the book I was accessing was my akashic record. I think I was purposefully memorizing this specific story. I don’t fully understand the importance of knowing the story and the story itself. My eldest daughter is the one that first connected my bedtime story to my life story. My husband died when our daughters were ages 14 and 17.



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