During our 23 years together, Karl’s greatest unhappiness was my reluctance to accept his advice. I did not fully trust his judgment then — for reasons I only later understand. Now I find myself in a life turned upside-down, in a completely different frame of mind.

On Christmas Eve 2016, I write to Karl:

I marvel at the great advice you have sent me — and I’m shocked that I have not listened more attentively. So here is my resolution: I will listen better from this point forward. I will.

On Christmas day, Karl replies that he is visiting Vancouver’s West End, exploring the Davie Village neighborhood: “I can see you here. I can also add to the power of your friends as they light their candles. I am sure we can do it.”

(Clearly, Karl has powers of navigating the Earthly plane. Before I move, he often reports in on how arrangements for my arrival are progressing in Vancouver.)

He adds, “I heard Rose say that storage is important for the Vancouver flat. Roger that!”

Calling out to Karl in the night

A few days later, over breakfast at her house in northern New South Wales, Rose Gardener hesitantly broaches a new topic.

“You were calling out to Karl in the night,” she speaks softly, turning in her chair to look at me closely.

“It wasn’t anything frightening, Wendy, not at all” she quietly continues, reaching out to rest her hand on mine.

“You were just calling his name again and again.”

Karl confirms Rose’s recollection:

Yes, you do call to me in the night. You and I do cross back and forth at night, passing through the Gate. You may have lost your way a bit this morning, as you were not sleeping that well at Rose’s.