At dawn this morning, I awoke, sat up in bed and looked down through our front windows at the river, as is my daily custom.  Along the river bank, which forms the edge of our yard, were seven herons—five great blue herons and two great white herons.  Great blue herons are common on our river but great white herons are seldom seen.  I woke Frankie and showed her the unusual sight.  About that time, all the herons took flight across the river, which was not visible from our vantage point.  We went downstairs, where we could see across the river, and were rewarded by the sight of seven white herons along the far bank of the river!

We both agreed that it was a sign from the spirits.  The white heron, known as tsquayi by the Cherokees, was a spirit bird and symbol of peace to our ancient Cherokee ancestors.  The number seven was, and continues to be, of deep spiritual significance to the Cherokees.  The white heron has played a significant role in my personal growth in spiritual understanding, to the extent that my current Cherokee name is Tsquayi.   As is usually the case with such signs, its significance was not immediately apparent, but we hoped it related to continued improvement in Frankie’s depression and success in our battle with her breast cancer.

At 9:30 a.m., I drove Frankie to the hospital in Tahlequah for her daily radiation treatment.  In the waiting room, we looked for our new friends, Viola and Paul, whom we had met a few weeks ago when Frankie went in for her first radiation treatment.  Viola was receiving radiation treatments for breast cancer and she and Frankie formed an immediate bond and we visited with them every day as we went in for a treatment.  In the past few days, Viola had developed some problems and had been admitted to the hospital for tests.  Yesterday, we had called and talked to her daughter in her hospital room and talked briefly to Viola.  This morning, after Frankie’s treatment, the nurse told us that Paul had called and requested that we be informed that Viola had died during the night.  Frankie and I were both crushed by the news. 

Later in the day, Frankie asked me the question that was already on my mind.  Was the sign of the seven white herons related to our friend’s death and, if so, how was it compatible?  I couldn’t answer the question with any certainty.  I suspect that the sign had to do with Frankie and/or me and was unrelated to Viola’s death.  Of one thing I am sure—the spirits are still playing a role in our lives.  Over the past two years, I had begun to doubt my spiritual beliefs, but events of the past few days, and particularly this morning’s sign, have given me renewed hope.  I will not be surprised if tomorrow brings something else to crush hope, but I have learned to treasure hope while I have it.

April 19, 2009

The seven white herons were indeed a sign--a sign relating to the improvement in Frankie's condition.  Since we saw the sign, the burn from the radiation to Frankie's skin has improved so that her treatments could resume and she will complete her treatments this week.  In addition, I have observed a marked improvement in her depression.  Also, I recently received some good news about my own health.   

Galieliga (Gah-lee-aye-lee-gah: I am happy/thankful).

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