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A PARENT'S DEATH
In Honor of MY Mother
Sometimes, there are things in life that come as a shock, even if all the signs are there to point to it. Death can be one of these things. I have always been terrified of death since I was a young child. It was never my own death that I feared, no, that has always felt like it would be a blissful and comforting relief, but I have always feared the pain of losing those I love, particularly my mother. That day has now come to pass, very suddenly and unexpectedly last Monday, November 28, 2005.
Having lost my father in 2001, I have already known the exquisite pain of grief that I feared all along, and now I face it again. Grief has a life all its own - it has its own rhythm, its own timing, its own ups and downs, and its own life span. One minute you can be laughing, the next crying or howling, the next moment having loving reminiscences, followed by crushing guilt or anger. It is the ultimate emotional roller coaster ride.
Grief is a part of the process of loss. We experience grief many times in life, although we don't always recognize it as such. Grief is often present whenever there is an ending, whether it be selling a home, leaving a job, sometimes at the end of the year or the end of the summer, some people even feel grief when approaching a birthday, and grief is always present to a lesser or greater degree when we end a relationship. This is why divorce is so difficult, because it is actually a death, but we do not honor it as such. We usually only associate grief with death, which is the final ending.
Death is the ultimate transformation, and all transformation involves death and rebirth. Whenever we go through change, we go through death - death of the old, and the birth of the new. This is why we fear change so much, because in order for our lives to change, we must pass through the death of our old self, grieve that self, and begin anew. We experience little deaths throughout our lives that cause us to change whether we like it or not. There are times in life when we experience events that cause massive change, impacting our lives to such a degree that we will never be the same again. This is what occurs when we lose a loved one.
Of course, we never really lose anyone, because death is also rebirth in the infinite cycle of transformation. The law of physics states that energy can never be destroyed, only transformed, and we are pure energy, in our essence. It is this energy that becomes embodied when we are born, and this life force that leaves the body when we make the transition through the ultimate transformation of death. This is the energy that animates us and makes us who we are, because the body is merely a shell, a vehicle to carry us through this lifetime, and a costume that we wear for our soul's journey through the play that is this life.
We have lived many, many, many times, and we shall live again, each time playing a different role and wearing a different costume. Often, we choose to reincarnate with those whom we have loved many times before, so we may play different roles for each other in order to help each other grow and evolve as souls. We are certain to see those whom we love again, both in the afterlife (between lives), as well as in our future incarnations.
It is as if we are perpetual children: when we lose another, we are playing hide and seek for now - they are merely hiding from us on another plane, and we will eventually find them when the time is right. After that, we shall play "let's pretend" on a grand scale, taking on different roles for each other in earthly form: "you can be the good guy and I'll be the bad guy, then next time we'll switch, okay?" We can play house, we can play doctor, and we can be anything that we choose to be. It is a great game that we never stop playing, but each round of the game must come to an end.
Death is a part of life, and it is the only thing in life that is absolutely assured. What is born must one day die, just as Autumn follows Summer, and Winter follows Autumn. Flowers grow and blossom, then fade, wither and die. Some last a long while, while others fade more quickly, but eventually, winter must come and gather them into its blanket of peace and rest until Spring brings them to life again.
I have had the pain of losing two of my dearly treasured flowers this past week: my mother on Monday, who was truly my very best friend and teacher, and then on Wednesday, I was told that one of my oldest and dearest friends on Earth died tragically much too young. I can hear both of them laughing in joy, which comforts and soothes the great hole that is left in my heart. It has been a sad week for some of us on Earth, but a great week for Heaven, which has recalled some of its greatest angels. I believe they have been called into greater service, to help us all through the times to come.
I don't think one is ever really prepared to lose those we love, whether we expect it or not. Death always comes as a shock. The Divine design of our bodies is that this shock initially creates numbness, as our brain produces chemicals that anesthetize our great pain so we can deal with all that must be dealt with right away. For me, this involved phoning family and friends scattered around the world to tell them the terrible news. Such news seems to spread like a wildfire, and soon one is inundated with sad phone calls. Everyone wants to know what happened and was there pain and suffering involved. By the hundredth time of recounting the events, I realized that it was often I who was comforting and consoling others, rather than the other way around.
People mean well when they offer their sympathies, but death is an awkward subject. Many people have no idea what to say, and some inevitably say the wrong thing. Others may shy away entirely, not knowing how to deal with what's happened, and not wanting to face the thought of mortality for various reasons. Those who have known the pain of loss themselves can usually offer the most comfort, because their own pain has caused their heart to grow in compassion.
Many people offer to help, but the things that need to be done initially can only be done by those who are grieving most. There are details to attend to that one could never imagine, and would never want to imagine until faced with them. A funeral is the most intense event one can ever have to make plans for in the shortest possible amount of time. It becomes a whirlwind of activity at a time when staying busy, even doing difficult things, is a relief compared to the deafening quiet of mental chatter. Sleep becomes impossible, and days are eternal, allowing for much thinking, planning, and thinking some more.
My goal has been simply to make it through the memorial service, by which time I had already spent the equivalent of entire days speaking with people. I am thankful that so many people dearly loved my mother because she was such an extraordinary human being, but I was left with the challenge of speaking to all these people, which left my voice and my body weak and tired. Somehow, I found the strength and the grace to create a beautiful memorial that truly honored who she was, who she is, and who she will always be for all those who loved her.
There has been a lot of magic that has occurred during this painful time, which has given me a great deal of peace. There are angels helping everywhere, both on Earth and in Heaven, and my mother is one of them. I have been surrounded by a great deal of love that has been a warm blanket of comfort for my aching heart and soul.
The days ahead are the challenging ones, where many painful decisions must be made, not to mention experiencing my first Christmas without her. This is the time when the bonds of family love become tested in the light of worldly things. This is also the time when those who were so quick to offer their help are also quick to pull back and disappear, fading into their own lives and priorities, but this is the time that help and comfort are most needed as the anesthesia wears off and one is left in the cold, stark loneliness of the reality of one's own acute pain.
When I lost my father, it seemed like I also lost my mind. Grief has a way of creating a fog where the brain cannot function or think properly. This can last for any length of time. I have been told that in the Jewish tradition, a person mourns a loved one for an entire year, which I found ironic, because on the one year anniversary of my father's passing, the fog in my mind suddenly began to clear and I was finally able to begin thinking and functioning again.
I do not know what will happen in the days and weeks to come, I must wait and see how grief affects my life this time. I know that I will not be offering readings until at least February, and I do not know if I will be able to continue writing this column and newsletter on a weekly basis, although I will certainly try my best. You may also see some of my Daily Guidance messages repeated from time to time. I am aware that I may lose some people as clients and subscribers during this time, and I thank you for having supported me and my work. I will carry on one way or another, one day at a time.
I know that I am blessed with being able to see and hear my mother on the Other Side, and I am greatly comforted knowing that she is happy and at peace. Our loved ones who pass over are always trying to communicate with us, but most people hold the belief that they are no longer here, so they can no longer see or hear them. They are always with us - all we have to do is learn to recognize their presence in their new form, which is the essence of who they truly are. I am truly blessed to receive many postcards from Heaven, and I bless my mother and my friend as they travel on their new journey throughout the Universe. They will always be here, and now, they are everywhere.
is the essence
of who you are
who you were
and who you will always be
lives in our hearts
so you will live on
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