death
Keeping My Promise To A Departed Loved One
Sometimes we become so busy and preoccupied in our daily lives that we forget the commitments we made to loved ones, relatives and friends. But this does not only apply to the living. Some of us also forget the promises we make to those that are no longer with us.
Too often we hold the hand of a loved one on their deathbed and promise to look after those they will be leaving behind. They wish for us to look after those they will no longer be able to care for and love in this life. And we promise wholeheartedly to do whatever it is they ask of us in their final moments.
But once they have departed and life returns to normal, we soon forget these promises and serious conversations. Our memories become conveniently selective. We usually don’t mean for this to happen, but life does have a way getting in the way.
I had a shocking reminder recently of my own selective memory in this regard. Several years ago, I got into the habit of journaling about issues in my life that deeply matter to me. Recently, I was not able to sleep and was encouraged by spirit to go through my journal.
So, I sat up at about four o’clock in the morning and randomly opened my journal on the very page where I had written about a promise that I had made to a loved about another person, whom I had a strong dispute with in the past. Being only human, I had some seriously negative feelings towards that individual.
However, I had promised to check in and be supportive to this person, whom I did not like very much at all, on behalf of the person who was in their final hours. At the time, I remember saying that I would “do my best” and that “if I could, I would.”
The promise was much more than just checking in on the relative. It went as far as the very items I was meant to get at the grocery store, as well as things to say to this person when I delivered it. I had however conveniently forgotten about it since, until I discovered the entry in my journal.
My Near-Death Experience
About 12 years ago, right before Christmas, I had a lot going on in my life. I was taking care of my two kids and my brother. My cousin had a three-month-old baby, whose mother was in the hospital with complications due to diabetes. He brought me his new baby and asked if they could stay with us, and if I could care for his son while he worked. He was working the night shift, from around 7pm till 4am. Of course, I said I would help in any way I could.
Between my kids’ and my brother’s schedules, and now this new baby who was colicy, I was exhausted at the end of the second week. Somehow, I also got food poisoning. Never having had food poisoning before, I didn’t know the symptoms and thought I had a touch of stomach flu. Being so tired, I hadn’t realized how sick I actually was. After about 18 hours of fluid loss, I become so dehydrated that I had a seizure. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I fell down. Apparently, I was clinically dead for around 1½ minutes.
I did not experience all of the typical near-death phenomena. There was not any floating over my body; there was no white light, no tunnel. I was simply here and then I was there. The first thing I remember is walking along a sort of grassy path. I don’t remember turning around to look behind me, but, I just knew that there was a darkness from which I came, back there.
There were two people there to greet me. A woman and a man, the woman spoke to me first, and the man was a little ways behind her. Today, I could not tell you who these people were. But, when I was there, I was so glad to see them. It was like when I had sent my kids to summer camp, and they were gone for all those summer months, and I missed them terribly. It was the same feeling I got when seeing my children for the first time returning home. I had a deep love and bond with these two people.
The next thing I remember is that I was taken to the top of a mountain. There was no journey to get there, I was just there. The only way to describe the mountain is that it was like standing on top of Pikes Peak and looking out. I was so high up that the only thing I could see was blue sky.
The Mystery Woman In My Mother’s Kitchen
I had an unusual childhood as the member of a psychic family. I also grew up in a haunted house, which is something we did not openly discuss in those days.
One particular ‘ghost’ story is something I will never forget. It was one of those unusual instances where my psychic abilities would not provide any of the answers. It was also an incident that would change my family forever.
My mother was terminally ill and shortly before she passed we were sitting in the living room talking to her. She kept referring to this woman she saw cooking dinner in the kitchen. She described the woman as being in her early 60’s, with an apron and light brown hair. My mother was not pleased that this stranger was busy cooking in her kitchen. What was she doing there?
Although we are a highly intuitive family, none of us saw or felt the presence of any ‘woman’ at that time. There certainly was no ghost in the kitchen. If there was, we would have sensed something. We were not sure if my mother’s words were merely a side-effect of the medication she was on, or whether she was getting ready to leave this life, which may have been causing her to hallucinate. None of us really knew what to make of the strange ‘woman in the kitchen’ she kept seeing.
My mother passed away shortly thereafter. About six or seven months later my father announced that he had met a new woman and that he really liked her. Time went by and one day my father told me he was going to ask his new girlfriend to marry him.
I had never met the lady before and not knowing who she was I wanted to be sure if she would be the right person for him. What if she was just trying to take advantage of him? But this time my psychic abilities let me down. For some reason I just could not pick up on who this woman was that my father was planning to marry. This is something that sometimes happens to psychics when they try to read for themselves, or for the people close to them.
Losing Touch With Our Departed Loved Ones
Some people have at least one long-standing friendship from their early childhood years. During your elementary years, the friendship grew to a soft and accepting duality that you easily embraced.
As the time progressed, the ‘best buddies’ syndrome only became stronger, as you melded into the somewhat trying years of early adolescence and puberty. It created an easy belief that this camaraderie would last for the entire duration of your earthly existence. You believed that you would be in each other’s lives forever!
These friendships lend itself to a sense of comfort that helps us deal with the trials and tribulations that young lives normally must endure.
The next thing you know, as you both matured and progressed further in life, your best friend found herself a wonderful life partner, they moved away from your area. But you both vowed to stay in touch and keep the friendship intact, just as it was when you were in your formative years.
At first all was well. You wrote, emailed, texted, phoned, sent the birthday and holiday gifts. You did whatever had to be done to keep those lines of communication open. If all went well, you both did your fair share.
In time, the calls became less frequent, the disconnect between you began to widen, as life took on a unique format for each of you. It is not that you feel less love and affection for each other, it is only that life has a way of moving forward into new and challenging directions. You will always be dear and cherished friends to each other, you will always care about the needs and concerns in each other’s lives, but life moves on.
This narrative is no different if your adored friend and confidant has since left this earthy existence and moved on the other side. We can have clear and constant communication from a loved one that has passed on. Their spirit still has great attachment to those they left behind.
Walk In Faith As You Move Forward
“For we live by faith, not by sight.” I have relied on the words of this verse from 2 Corinthians for most of my life with much success, no matter how tough times have been.
What does it mean to walk in faith, and not by sight? Well, it means to keep going and to keep your faith in God, Spirit, a Higher Power, even when you are not sure of where exactly you are headed.
This past year these words could not have been more relevant. It has been very difficult for all of us, especially for those who have lost loved ones. Sadly, in our day and age, when a loved one passes, we don’t always get the support we need in order to get through the loss and get the help we need to move forward.
Processing grief on your own is no easy task. First we have to accept that our loved one is not with us in the physical sense anymore, but their soul is always with us. They will tell us that they are still here, but they do not want us to have an unhappy life, they don’t want us to be alone.
In our soul contract one of us agrees to leave before the other, whether it is a parent, husband, wife, child, sibling, whomever it may be, and that the one left behind would be experiencing what it means to endure such a loss.
As we struggle to move forward, people might say, why aren’t you feeling better yet? Time to get over it. Life goes on. Why are you still so sad? Well, it just doesn’t work that way, and anyone who has experienced such a loss understands that it takes a lot of time for the heart to truly heal.
I lost my husband of 31 years a long time ago. You don’t ever get over it completely, but it does get easier with time. It’s a step-by-step process, and having people that support you means so much to help you get through.
Telephone Call From The Other Side
When I was 16 I was really into going to church, trying to find myself and meeting girls! Why not? I was young and still trying to figure out life.
One day in church, while the congregation was singing a hymn, I kept smelling cigar smoke for some reason. It was as if someone was blowing it directly into my face, and it kept getting stronger and stronger.
I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I hoped that it would help me to get rid of the smoke. Shortly after the smell disappeared. I decided to keep this experience to myself and not tell anyone.
After the long ride home, I remember getting out the car and finding my father in the kitchen. He asked me how church was, and whether I met any girls (he would always giggle when asked me that). Suddenly the smoke smell was back, and it was even stronger than the first time. The phone rang. It was my grandfather, but we got disconnected.
Dad asked me who was on the phone, and I told him what happened. A few minute later the phone rings again. This time it was my uncle. My dad was visibly shocked while speaking to him.
My dad then asked me a very odd question. “Are you sure you just spoke to your grandfather on the phone?”
Dad asked me who was on the phone, and I told him what happened. A few minute later the phone rings again. This time it was my uncle. My dad was visibly shocked while speaking to him.
We Will Become Whole And New Again
Cleaning out the home of a loved one who has passed is certainly not a task anyone looks forward to. In truth, it is the last thing one would ever want to do. About a year ago, I found myself doing just that for a departed family member.
I oversaw the kitchen and was told that if there was anything that I could use in my own home, to go ahead and put it in a box and take it with me. I did happen to come across a couple of items, including a set of two large, oval-shaped dishes.
Recently, I’m in the kitchen one evening, taking out food from the microwave oven and placing it on this dish. I have done it many times before without any problem, but on this occasion the dish decided to crack. Not only did it crack significantly, but it also made a loud, sharp cracking noise!
Later, as we sat down for dinner, I gave a family member the other matching plate as a base for some food from the microwave, and the same thing happened. It was the same crack, and the same noise, and it seemed rather odd.
I was fairly upset and even made mention that it was a shame, as I always thought fondly of the departed loved one whenever I used these plates in the kitchen.
That night I had a strange, lucid dream about what happened. In my dream we were still eating from the cracked plates, when suddenly, right before our eyes, we witnessed the crack in both plates sealing up in a miraculous way. We could not believe it. The plates looked like the crack had never happened and I remember feeling very relieved, happy and at peace.