star child

A friend of mine gave me the gift of a psychic following Kala's death. I'd never had a reading and though the idea appealed greatly to me, I wasn't sure whether or not I believed in the accuracy of such forays through time. I decided not to tell the woman anything about my reason for contact.

Quite soon into the call however, she began to ask me questions and I broke down and told her about Kala's passing. I needed to talk about her and figured if the worst I came away with was a good cry to a sympathetic listener, then I was still in a better place. Without hesitation, she told me that Kala and I had been companions in another life. She had been a wolf hound and I was an herbalist. In Ireland. In a castle beside the sea. I had not mentioned that I was writing a book about an herbalist in Ireland and that the inspiration for this character or this setting was unclear to me. I had not shared that when I traveled to Ireland to research the book, in a castle beside the sea, I felt that I had been there before and was drawn to explore nooks and crannies that were barely visible at first glance. She had me completely hooked.

"Is Kala with me?" I asked her.

"She will give you a sign this month in the form of shooting stars. And she will be visible to you through something you regularly called her."

I'd always called her my butterfly girl. "I am trying to have a child. Will Kala take human form and come back to me?"

"No," she said. "Kala is watching over you, but she has a lot to do before she returns to your life."

A black butterfly with a purple and orange stripe (Kala's colors) appeared at my neighbor's lake the next morning, hovering near me and Onni and Suvi. She landed on my shoulder and playfully chased after the dogs as they swam for their balls. Every day she appeared, reassuring, magical. I planted an herbal butterfly garden to sustain her. A few weeks later streaks of burning light charmed the sky. My star child.