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They've Come to Take Me Home
by Cynthia Sue Larson
Printed in PlanetLightworker
July 2000

Sometimes, the hidden orchestration behind living and dying reveals itself to us.

One recent morning, my daughters and I were horrified to discover that one of our pet rats had been killed by a wild rat. I felt tremendous sorrow, since I could hear an inner voice nagging me with, "If you had gotten rid of those wild rats, our pet would still be alive." I felt terrible for days afterwards, even when my daughter reassured me, "There was no WAY this was your fault!"

About a week after our rat died, I drove to spend an afternoon at the park in a neighboring city.

I parked in front of a police station, and discovered that this wasn't the park I'd meant to visit - but it looked inviting. As I walked down into a canyon in the park where a stream ran, I heard annoyingly loud cries of "We're down HERE!" over and over again. As I walked toward the stream, wondering what all the fuss was about, a woman ran past and asked if I'd seen the paramedics. "What paramedics?" I inquired, and she told me a woman had fallen over and her heartbeat and breathing were undetectable. I quickened my steps, hoping I could somehow be of help. As I approached a clearing with a bench, I heard another woman practicing CPR on the fallen woman say, "She's turning blue and vomiting".

I saw a Labrador retriever standing nearby, with the fallen woman's right hand still holding his leash. I gently removed the leash from her blue, stiffening fingers, and took the dog away as paramedics arrived. The dog looked deeply into my eyes as I said, "It's going to be OK." Some dogs seem more attuned to people than some people do, and this was one such dog. He looked at me as if to say, "I know", and then looked at his owner for what was to be the last time. I checked the dog tags and discovered his name was Payton, and his owner's name was Eileen. I told the paramedics that I knew who their patient was, so they removed the dog tag and asked me to take Payton to the police station nearby.

I sensed that caring for Eileen's dog was the one thing she would have most wished for me to do. I felt deeply touched that I had been given the opportunity to honor her last wish, to care for her dog lovingly when she could not. I felt how much Eileen and Payton loved one another, and this love washed over me like waves in the ocean. Before I left, I thanked and hugged both the woman who'd administered CPR and the woman who had run to call 911 and summon the paramedics.

At the police station, I met Leslie, the animal control officer. Leslie said, "I shouldn't even BE here in the office on the weekend - it's not my shift!" I thanked her for being on duty, and asked if she thought this dog was at risk of being put to sleep. "THIS dog will have a good home within 48 hours of when he is given up for adoption", Leslie replied, "He's the kind of dog everybody wants". Leslie assured me that she was taking Payton to her home that evening. I felt good knowing that Payton was going to continue to enjoy a life full of love.

I drove by Eileen's house on my way home. I looked up at the stairs leading to her front door and saw her drawn blinds. The whole house had a vacant feeling to it. The driveway was all torn up, obviously in the midst of a repair job. There wasn't much of a front yard to speak of... it mostly consisted of the steps to the porch. I turned on the radio as I pulled away from Eileen's house, to hear Melissa Etheridge singing, "Come to my window, I'll be home soon. I would dial the numbers just to listen to your breath. I would stand inside my hell, and hold the hand of death."

I was impressed with the fact that Eileen had died in public, to have a stranger "hold the hand of death" in order to take Payton's leash. Eileen couldn't have chosen a better way to die, if she wanted to make sure her dog would be cared for from the moment she fell down. She enjoyed one last perfect afternoon at their favorite park with the one she loved so dearly. Payton had not had to suffer watching her die at home, growing increasingly hungry and alarmed about why Eileen wasn't getting up.

The next song on the radio was Peter Gabriel's song, "Solsbury Hill", another song about going home. The joy in this song was unmistakable, and I began to sense that everything, from going to the "wrong" park, parking my car in front of the police station, hearing people yelling "We're down HERE!", finding Eileen holding Payton's leash as she stopped breathing, meeting Leslie who was on duty on her day off... all of this had been perfectly orchestrated, like a symphony. I heard Peter Gabriel sing, "Today I don't need a replacement. I'll tell them what the smile on my face meant. My heart going boom, boom, boom. Hey, I said, You can keep my things, they've come to take me home."

Cynthia Sue Larson, July, 2000

Cynthia Sue Larson holds a bachelor's degree in physics from UC Berkeley (1982), earned in conjunction with her pursuit of a more complete understanding of reality. Shortly after receiving her physics degree and working with scientists at the Space Sciences Laboratory in Berkeley, she earned an MBA degree from San Francisco State University with the intention that she would be able to help scientists better manage their projects. Following completion of her MBA degree in 1984, she worked as a project manager at Citibank for seven years at the California Data Center.

Cynthia currently writes articles for Magical Blend and Parabola magazines about reality shifts - discussing everything from the physics of prayer to the connection between language and our culture's view of reality. She has taught workshops and classes to dozens of people, and communicated with thousands more on the internet through discussion forums and chats. She has been interviewed by Elliot Stein for his Stein Online talk show, and Charles Grotsky on the Technology Trends television show. Her passion is helping people realize how we all create reality, and that we can consciously improve our lives and the world around us to make our favorite dreams come true. Check out Cynthia's website at

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