Blue Eyes

His eyes were the exact shade of a deep glacier crevice. The startling color of ice compressed through thousands of years of incessant pressure. His muzzle white with age, blended into a ruff of deep grey and strong shoulders covered in thick black fur. His right front paw was white, the others the same shade of ebony as the black piano keys I first remembered touching as a child.

I must have passed out. I remember sitting down at the cliff top and staring out into the sunset. I remember thinking it was sad that my last day would end with such a spectacular vision of crimson clouds blending into orange, gold and deep purple as the sun slipped behind white capped peaks. It was early summer in the Rockies with winter snow still clinging on the upper ridges of the hulking granite shoulders of my familiar mountain friends.

Now, as I shivered into consciousness, I wondered why? My plan was to step off the shale scree slope and end it. I couldn't face another day of chemo, and my strength was ebbing so quickly, the hike up into the high valley would be beyond me in another week. I wanted to go out on my terms, my way. Everyone told me to hang in there. At least the staff at the cancer center did.

The wolf nudged his head under my shoulder. What was he doing here? Faint memories of grandmother's stories ricocheted through my brain. A spirit guide? Of course, he would guide me into the next world. All I had to do was follow him. The night was clear, the stars glimmering in the deep vastness of the universe. I knew the Milky Way cascading ahead of us was my pathway to serenity.

The wolf licked my hand, and I rubbed the back of it against my thigh. Strange that everything felt so real. He supported my weak leg, like he knew exactly what was wrong. He would, wouldn't he? Spirit guides always know your innermost secrets. The leg I would lose. No more freedom to go wherever my heart pulled me. The chemo was attacking the tumor in my ankle. The leg would come off just below the knee. I wouldn't be whole. A piece of me would die, irretrievably lost.

I let him push me. Down the switchbacks I climbed only hours earlier. Funny, nothing hurt anymore. I kept my hand on his ruff. A tall wolf, it would seem he was the epitome of the species. A leader, I would think. Another swipe of his tongue across my other hand as he brought me to a crack in the silvery grey wall of rock.

We threaded our way into a cave.

Inside a small fire burned brilliantly orange with flickers of red and yellow weaving through the flames. Tiny bursts of hot blue flickered along the long logs, and the sweet scent of pine resin pinging and cracking as it melted greeted my nose. Grandmother sat cross legged with her ribbon skirt tucked under her ankles. She smiled as I approached.

"Welcome Blue Dove." Her voice drew me in like a warm hug.

"Grandmother?"

"Yes, I see your grandfather has brought you to me."

My stunned mind wriggled with doubt, rejecting what I knew could not be possible. I responded lamely, "Grandfather?"

"Chief Lone Wolf. How have you grown to such an age, without knowing your family?" Grandmother asked.

"You left us, and you were the glue. You kept us together, helping each other. Your son left the land, he took me with him. My mother stayed behind, saying I should have something to come home to. She lied. Grey Elk died, a broken man, when I wanted to return, Yellow Flower was no more. I have only myself, and a broken dying body."

"But the essence of self is there. It is all each of us has to call our own. Go home once more. Heal." Grandmother nodded her head toward the wolf.

Why did this seem so right? Watching as Lone Wolf slowly transformed, I understood a piece of myself which I hid from all around me. His white head with long thick braids and brilliant blue eyes sat on wide shoulders atop a strongly corded neck. His skin, deep brown, almost black, looked like the finest leather on a couch in a high-end furniture store. His naked body brought an aura of ageless strength with it.

He pulled on a soft buckskin loincloth, then shrugged into a fringed jacket after stepping into bleached jeans which showcased muscular legs. I should have trembled in fear, but instead I felt content.

"Let your inner wolf free, my child." Grandfather spoke in deep velvet tones, stroking my shattered mind. "Accept everything you know yourself to be."

He handed me a wooden carved cup, filled with steaming liquid he dipped from a birch wood coffered pot. Why didn't it burn?

"Your grandmother is a wise Medicine Woman. Drink the healing tea."

My grandmother with her silver hair loose to her waist, answered my unasked question.

"Spirit world, child. Much which isn't possible where you live, is here." Grandmother reassured me.

"How will I get home?"

"You never left. Drink the tea, it heals all which ails you. Your illness retreats."

I heard the pulsing of pounding drums. They called me to dance, and I rose to sway.

"Blue Dove, Blue Dove."

The voice tickled my mind. I refused to acknowledge its pull.

"Go child. All will be well."

I reached down to touch my ankle. The swollen hard lump was gone. I spiraled up with the crisp pine smoke obeying her command.

"Diana, wake up."

"Why?" I mumbled.

I felt myself snap back into awareness. The dream, a wisp of ethereal steam.

"Where's the wolf, my blue-eyed wolf." I could feel his fur in my hand.

"You're dreaming. I can't believe my eyes."

She held up the mirror I used to settle my bandanna hat over my bald head before leaving the bed.

My hair was back. I yanked on the deep brown wave hanging over my breast and winced.

How?

The blue-eyed wolf beside my bed rumbled.

The nurse's eyes widened impossibly, as her body wilted.

I could have sworn I heard my grandfather's laugh.