I felt another presence in the room. I opened my eyes and peered through the clouds of steam. I saw no one.
I closed my eyes again. Immediately, I sensed a white-robed man staring at me from across the room. He was tall, dark-haired, with a trim beard and mustache and a muscular build. A gold coronet rested on his head.
“Who are you?” I asked silently.
“My name is Arctur,” I sensed rather than heard.
“Right,” I thought dismissively. My mind is still focused on Bodie and his Arcturian stories. It’s playing tricks on me.
“This is no trick. I am Arctur,” he repeated.
Once again, I was channeling. I don’t know how long we conversed. Time had no meaning among the mystical swirls of steam.
“If Bodie’s from Arcturus,” I challenged, “where am I from?”
“Not that it matters,” he replied, “but you’re from Sirius...and stop being so serious.”
I was too serious, too much of the time.
“There is someone here who wants to speak with you,” Arctur said a few moments later.
“Because this is so close to the anniversary of your father’s death...” Suddenly I sensed my father’s presence, Sydney’s presence. My heart started to race.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the father you wanted me to be,” my father said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you in all the ways you deserved.”
I began to sob.
“But I loved you and I still love you,” he continued. “And I’m so proud of what you’re doing and what you’re becoming. I couldn’t be a role model for you, but you’re now a role model for me. I’m watching you. I’m with you. I’m learning from you. Thank you.”
Moments later, I sensed that Sydney and Arctur had left. I was alone, still crying. I opened my eyes. The steam room was empty. I wiped my face, collected myself and returned to my room.
How close to the anniversary is it? I fired up my laptop and opened my file of significant dates.
As close as it could be. My father had died twenty-nine years earlier — on that day.
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