A little background. All the retrievals I have done have been with using imagination as the door to the other side. I have created 'my place' with beauty and comfort in mind. It is where I go first. It has a great view of sea, sky and mountains. I have also learned there is a huge city to the right as we leave the terrace in front of 'my place'. That was shown to me on one of my earlier retrievals. I didn't create it.
It is at 'my place' where I will find a helper or two waiting to start a retrieval.
On this particular day George came forward as my helper. I like working with George as he was the first helper to work with me. We took off and George headed to the right and above 'my place'. I could see the edge of the city, but we continued to climb. I saw a mountain first from above then from the point of view of the side. George told me to call. I usually call if I don't see anything. --My helpers don't usually tell me to call.-- I called twice and got an answer almost before the second call was out of my mouth. "Down here."
I saw a cave opening and someone sitting in front of it. I asked for a name. He asked for my name first. This never happened before, but what the heck. --I was named Luckie before I was born by my father. You could say it is my first name... literally.
-- So, I said, "My name's Luckie."
He asked,"And are you?"
I said, "Yes, very much."
I again asked his name and he stated very bluntly, "Bob."
I asked, "Just Bob?"
He came back with "Bob is it."
Because he was so ...so what? I sent him PUL and told him he was loved. He asked me if I loved him?
I told him, "Yes." And if I could see eyes on the other side, I would say his were twinkling.
I then asked if he would like to go with me? He agreed without hesitation. I put out my hand. He took it and then grabbed my wrist with his other hand. I pulled him up beside me. I asked his age. He said, "Ninety-seven." I asked what year it was and he said, "Nineteen oh three."
I felt him flirt with me. I figured he was doing pretty good for someone who had been dead for a hundred nine years and was ninety-seven when he died. I also figured it was probably the reason he lived so long. I didn't ask any more questions and went straight to the park and the bench there. When we got there he again asked if I still loved him? I gave him PUL and told him, "Yes."
We looked up and saw children running toward him. He was happy to see them. He joined them and I waved to him as I left for 'my place'
When we got there, I thanked George and sat for a while thinking about the ease of this retrieval. It was nice to know that humor survives on the other side. Bob had a humor about him and a wit that eased the whole process. I think humor is a part of love. It is another part that makes us feel good.