The Magic in a Death Experience
When I told my publisher I was going to have a 2 year anniversary celebration of the book release, he asked: what magical thing happened in the last two years?
All I could think of, initially, was: where exactly have you been? It’s been full of death, grief and the pandemic!
As I really sat with this question, the one big piece of tangible goodness was I inherited a cat! Her name is Zoe. And I inherited her because of a death. … Interestingly, Zoe is one of Grace’s surrogate kittens. She was litter mate to my Aria (all characters in my book, Living with Grace, A Story of Love and Healing, Leaving Paw Prints on the Heart, of course!)
My thought was well, that means i have to talk about death again. And I didn’t really like that until I realized life really is a series of deaths and rebirths. Indeed, even my book was born from Grace’s death.
While you may not have had a death in your life due to the pandemic, or know someone who has, the truth is we have...
Divine Alignment Brings Out the Haters
Yesterday was one of the most magical days I have had since my daughter’s wedding last year. I began with intentionally listening to what was around me in the morning as I recited “Thank you for _____.” My day began with a deep sense of Peace.
The day flowed as if by magic.
I was gifted a remarkable 6 month program — on something I have been wanting to do for a long time. $3000 in my proverbial pocket. Tears of gratitude. I expressed my gratitude by going out into nature.
Woven into the day I saw far too many people’s posts in my Facebook feed that their beloved pet had died. Earlier in the day, someone has asked for prayers, as her sister was fighting for her life battling covid. ~ Immediately following 3 posts about pets dying, her new post cam up stating her sister had passed.
Something snapped.
My book, Living with Grace ~ A Story of Love & Healing, Leaving Paw Prints on the Heart, could be so very valuable to each and everyone of these...
Dancing Between Heaven and Earth
Honoring the Process of Dying
When my daughter was 10, she had a gerbil. It’s been so long I cannot remember his name.
She and her father went on vacation; it was then, of course, that I noticed he was not well. He struggled to walk – he wasn’t chewing up the toilet paper roll. I knew he was dying, but why now? When my child was not there? What was I going to do?!
I’d take him out and hold him in my hand while I sat with him. I’d sit such that he was positioned at my heart. I willed him to die – to end his suffering.
What I noticed was that every time I did that, he’d get more energy, and I thought a miracle had occurred.
No. He was just taking in the love from my heart center and using it as fuel for just a bit.
This went on for a few days. I didn’t want him to die while my 10 year old was gone! What kind of closure (or not) would that bring her?!
One night, after my ritual of holding him at my heart and telling him it was ok to...
Death In A Box
Three years ago this month my mother died. That call that you expect yet never want. She was the ever ready bunny. She wouldn’t let go – I believe because my father wouldn’t and couldn’t let her go. So she stayed.
Two days after the call I flew to Florida to be with dad – lots of things need to be addressed after a death – not to mention the emotional component. He’d had mother cremated; he’d selected an urn and wanted my opinion before making the final decision.
Seeing someone you love in a box – no matter how plain or fancy – is quite sobering. How can that once vibrant person (or animal) be distilled down to something so SMALL?
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This month I said goodbye to my Ginger and 10 days later I picked her up – in a box. And the experience was jarring.
As I drove there, my mantra was
I can do this; I can do this; I can do this.
And then the unexpected happened, and I became a puddle inside as the tears involuntarily...
I Felt a Presence
I was at the club on the elliptical machine, eyes closed focused on the task at hand, sending Love and Light to my parents as my mother toys with opening the door called Death.
Then I felt a presence.
Four young developmentally challenged men had come to wipe down the rowing machines just ahead of me. The presence I felt was of the most shy from the group. He uttered not one word, but his soul was jumping up and down, waving greetings to me. Of course he chose the machine directly in front of me so I could dance with him in silence.
Such a gentle, sweet man. ♥ What a lovely experience that was!