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The Dead Do Talk
April 16, 2008 - 9:28am — Sabrina Artel
"None of us can do our best work until we believe that the life of the mind really does belong to us." From the essay "Intellectual Desire" by Allan Bérubé.
Have you been visited by a person who has died?
I have, in my dreams. They talk to me and give me messages. They sit in my chairs and bring me songs of love. Loving and the many shapes of “It,” but I get caught up in fears, in grieving and in disappointments. Allan visited me in my sleep last night. He stayed a long time and it was wonderful. My friend Kate reminded me after my father died that a person’s dying doesn’t stop the relationship, and I’ve found this to be true. I continue to talk to the deceased ones and share my life with them.
Allan. Christmas 1947.
Now, I know that this could all be coming from the imagination, but I’ve concluded that the origin is less important than the messages that are shared. If many physicists theorize that time is circular, then what’s happening now has already happened before and will continue on and on and on. Time travel then becomes probable, and the continuum that we perch ourselves on is reverberating in another time and place.
What do you think happens when we die?
Since I was with my dear Allan when he died on December 11th, I’ve felt that death has been one step behind me. All winter I’ve been looking over my shoulder, and it’s been exhausting. The unexpected suddenness of his dying scared me because it reminded me of that mysterious force that directs us. We palled around in our neighborhood of Liberty, New York, and I delighted in our adventures, his insights and enthusiastic support. Since my heart broke on that December morning, life, with its surprises and sudden deaths, is shaking me up.
While Allan lay unconscious in the hospital bed, I saw, in that Tiresias sort of way, a woman ecstatically greet him. I knew then that I was seeing him get ready to leave us and thought she must be his mother. Later, back at his house, I found a photograph of his mother, and she was the same person that I saw in the hospital room.
Do you fear your own death as I sometimes do?
He rose up and looked at me before his heart stopped. I told him, as the “code” team and I were running down the hall, that I wouldn’t leave his side, which I didn’t. The team worked on him for an hour and brought his heartbeat back, which allowed his partner John to be by his side and friends to gather in the room and love him through the night.
Allan and my mother bled to death. Allan’s mother also bled to death.
As devastating as it was to watch Allan die, being with him for his dying was his precious gift to me. Something has been transmitted which will continue to reveal itself.
As spring is slowly rising here in the Catskills, the robins are nesting, the peeper frogs are starting their chirping chorus and the daffodils are pushing their way through the earth, I feel myself emerging from this long, violent winter. The end of last year was one of goodbyes, of the reminder yet again of the dance between life and death and how grateful I am for every day.
Since Allan and I didn’t get to play our annual December birthday Ms. Pacman playoff, I'm going to the diner this week to play a game in his honor. I’m sure he’ll win again!
CLAGS CUNY NY Thursday, May 1
An Evening to Honor Allan Berube
Co-sponsored by the Palm Center
Skylight Room, Graduate Center, 7-9 p.m.
Have you been visited by a person who has died?
I have, in my dreams. They talk to me and give me messages. They sit in my chairs and bring me songs of love. Loving and the many shapes of “It,” but I get caught up in fears, in grieving and in disappointments. Allan visited me in my sleep last night. He stayed a long time and it was wonderful. My friend Kate reminded me after my father died that a person’s dying doesn’t stop the relationship, and I’ve found this to be true. I continue to talk to the deceased ones and share my life with them.
Allan. Christmas 1947.
Now, I know that this could all be coming from the imagination, but I’ve concluded that the origin is less important than the messages that are shared. If many physicists theorize that time is circular, then what’s happening now has already happened before and will continue on and on and on. Time travel then becomes probable, and the continuum that we perch ourselves on is reverberating in another time and place.
What do you think happens when we die?
Since I was with my dear Allan when he died on December 11th, I’ve felt that death has been one step behind me. All winter I’ve been looking over my shoulder, and it’s been exhausting. The unexpected suddenness of his dying scared me because it reminded me of that mysterious force that directs us. We palled around in our neighborhood of Liberty, New York, and I delighted in our adventures, his insights and enthusiastic support. Since my heart broke on that December morning, life, with its surprises and sudden deaths, is shaking me up.
While Allan lay unconscious in the hospital bed, I saw, in that Tiresias sort of way, a woman ecstatically greet him. I knew then that I was seeing him get ready to leave us and thought she must be his mother. Later, back at his house, I found a photograph of his mother, and she was the same person that I saw in the hospital room.
Do you fear your own death as I sometimes do?
He rose up and looked at me before his heart stopped. I told him, as the “code” team and I were running down the hall, that I wouldn’t leave his side, which I didn’t. The team worked on him for an hour and brought his heartbeat back, which allowed his partner John to be by his side and friends to gather in the room and love him through the night.
Allan and my mother bled to death. Allan’s mother also bled to death.
As devastating as it was to watch Allan die, being with him for his dying was his precious gift to me. Something has been transmitted which will continue to reveal itself.
As spring is slowly rising here in the Catskills, the robins are nesting, the peeper frogs are starting their chirping chorus and the daffodils are pushing their way through the earth, I feel myself emerging from this long, violent winter. The end of last year was one of goodbyes, of the reminder yet again of the dance between life and death and how grateful I am for every day.
Allan and Pitou.
Since Allan and I didn’t get to play our annual December birthday Ms. Pacman playoff, I'm going to the diner this week to play a game in his honor. I’m sure he’ll win again!
CLAGS CUNY NY Thursday, May 1
An Evening to Honor Allan Berube
Co-sponsored by the Palm Center
Skylight Room, Graduate Center, 7-9 p.m.
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38 Comments
Anybody still reading this?
Hi Sabrina, I stumbled on your late post late, but felt so connected to it that I had to post a response. I'm so sorry that you lost a friend, but I am happy that you found him again in your dreams, and beyond.
In my mid-twenties, I lost both parents within 2 years. My father of a sudden heart attack, my mother after suffering for a year with a rear cancer. Before each of them died, I had a profound experience. One evening when I was leaving work in lower Manhattan, after arriving at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, while riding up the escalator with a co-worker, I became pensive and said to my co-worker: "You know, my father and I never had a serious conversatin in my life." When I arrived home, I received a call from my mother that my father had died.
One year later my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She moved in with me and we suffered together for one year. She entered the hospital the week before easter. I called all my siblings to come to see her. My siblings and I went from the hospital to a friend's for Easter dinner. All through dinner my mother's face flashed through my mind. When we arrived back at my home, the hospital called to say she had died. At first when I would dream about her, all I saw was the sick and dying mother. About six months later I had the first dream of her as a healthy and happy person and I awoke happy to have had a visit with her. The very next Easter Sunday I received a wonderful gift of the birth of my dog. I couldn't help but feel there was a connection.
Lastly, when I was 15, my best friend of 17 committed suicide. I would dream of ropes and horrible things for a while. I think it took 5 years for me to get over it. I don't often dream of her, but when I think of her, of course, I can only see her as 17 years old; I am now 54. I always wonder how she would have aged, and what I would have experienced if we had aged together.
Well, if you are still out there, thanks for listening.
Happy dreams, ATK
Allan ain't gone
Walking around in NYC, I pretend I see Allan. We bump into each other when I'm my way home from work and stop to chat. I see him whenever I go to the West Village on my lunch break. Our conversations are always short and funny. When we part, he waves, even though he's right in front of me. It's because we're both too butch to fag out and hug. Before he died, I told Kate I hoped that Allan would sell his properties in Liberty and move back to NYC. Now that we don't go up to Liberty, I've been able to be a complete freak and pretend he's not gone. The May 1st memorial will be hard, but it may help me stop being a multiple personality crazy on the streets of NYC. While Allan and I are chatting, I'm all smiles, but when we're done...we're done. Then I don't want to see anyone but him and all I see is everyone but him. It sucks. What can I say? I miss the faggot.
Visitations
I've experienced them both as dreams and as waking incidents and I think they're real. If we listen, we hear and see and know things. Intuition is freaky-cool.
Same with dreams. The fact that our minds blow off steam and figure things out in this particular way is, for me, a huge indicator that there's so much more going on with us than just our bodies. We're energy animating an elaborate object that acts as a conduit for us to receive more energy and information. It's pretty mind-blowing.
Through our dreams and ideas we make the intangible tangible. We are manifestations here to manifest, which is the big wheel of all life forms. I don't think that stops when our bodies stop. I think our energy is released and goes on to manifest elsewhere.
What a wonderful story.
When my grandmother died, I was sure she wasn't alone. I truly felt that her mother had come to comfort her and to take her home. I hope it's a small comfort to you to know that he is with those he loves, and that he is now watching over you.
Everyone sharing their
Everyone sharing their experiences and thoughts about death and dying is amazing! Thanks so much.
A sky full of diamonds
Sabrina I'm sorry for your loss of Allan and thanks for sharing your intimate and precious last times with him as he passed. He looks like he was a very kind soul. I hope you find peace and comfort in celebrating his life as you play the game the two of you shared and had fun with while he was with you. And thanks for putting this topic out there.
I've never had an experience where someone has contacted me after they've died, but my aunt was very ill many years ago, and she suffered so for at least the last year while in hospice care. The last time I went to visit her she seemed to be full of fear even more so than pain. Although she could not open her eyes, when I approached her bed I could see her eyes were searching for me as they were moving quickly under her closed eyelids. I just felt such sadness as I stood there and could feel her fear and see her pain. I got the overwhelming feeling as I stood there that she was afraid to let go, and that it was the fear of passing on that kept her from finally being at peace and pain free. At that moment, I put my hand on her forehead and told her not to be afraid, and that if she wants to let go it is okay. Her eyes stopped moving under her eyelids, and she finally fully relaxed. I told her I loved her and that we'd all miss her very much. That night we had the most beautiful snowfall. The snowflakes were very delicate and falling so slowly, almost as if the flakes were suspended in mid-air. Each flake sparkled in the reflection of the glow from the street lights so it looked as if the sky was filled with diamonds. The home called me early that following morning to tell me that my aunt passed away.
I was grateful that maybe what I had said to her helped put her at ease and finally give in to the inevitable. Knowing that she was finaly at peace was such a gift for me.
I personally believe that we are all one with "the source" and that we rejoin that source once we leave our physical bodies. I do not fear death as I feel it is a continuation of our process, a going home, and to use the metaphor that's often used - We are not a wave that dies as it crashes on the shore...we are a part of the ocean.
What you did Denpalen ...
was of the utmost importance. I had the honor of being present at the moment a soul left the body behind. It is an awesome happening comparable to childbirth. If anyone is interested in this "Soul having a human experience" theme, I do recommend the books of Michael Newton, Ph.D. : Journey of Souls and Destiny of Souls. The best I have ever seen on this subject and believe me I read a lot about this and related subjects.
Cecil
Touch...
and recognition are very powerful. Thanks for sharing this beautiful story.
Thank you for this
Thank you for this text.
yesterday, i was watching the Eiffel Tower, for everyone it's the symbol of Paris, for me she is my great-grand-mother, born in 1889, with 1789 marchs, with this specific voice and perfum...
I also experiment something weird, it's the death inside life : i mean I don't see anymore a girl i loved and do not have any "real" relathionship with her anymore for years now, but she's here so present inside me, the fact is that she is alive (i guess, because i assume that common friends would told me is she died) and death in the same time for me ( i mean what we call death is not something real)...
To come to a (impossible)close, i remember now that when i was very young i truely believe that each day when we fall asleep we die and rebirth the next day, but it was not a frightening thought...
ps1 : have to read last books of Cixous (bis) she writes on her relationship with living dead (half life long friend)Derrida quite in the same way as you...
Ps2 : something lying in english in the word "re-member", taht doesn't exist in French and i feel so true : the strong tied of remember and remembrance...
The Law of Remains
Speaking of Derrida and the remembering, the presence of those things left behind. Interesting to think of the "things", like our cells and skin; the constant movement of the planet and universes that shift constantly without our awareness.
A couple of weeks ago a
A couple of weeks ago a friend committed suicide. We have been trying to figure out what happened, could we have stopped it from happening. I frankly still don't know; obviously she felt that death was the only way out.
It's odd, when we were cleaning out her place. She was there in all the photo's, the words in her notebooks, her diaries which none of us want to read). She is still there, she is still here...
Life is so damned preciously short already, and I guess if this death has taught me something the deaths previously haven't - it's all about a single moment in time and sharing with people, being with them - rather then the thoughts of 'catching up later'.
Being here now...
can be so challenging in our fast and busy lives. I'm amazed at the flexibility of time and how even a moment of really being present with someone has the potential to shift everything. Sending you love.
The same thing happened
with my mom. It tore our family apart, so much anger and blaming. It's tragic. After it happened, I could feel her energy thrashing around in the room where she had done it, something like a weird magnetic field in the doorway--a tear in that life/death curtain. I got advice from a Yaqui elder who helps me sometimes about how to help her move on. He said that after someone commits suicide, they often don't know where they are and what to do. Mostly it helped me to be firm with her, to tell her that she was dead, that she had chosen it and that it was time for her to go. Because the last words I had said to her before this happened was that I love her, it was easier for me to let myself off the hook. You couldn't have changed it. People's choices are what they are. We can only love them and when we feel their presence, remind them that they are dead and that their business is elsewhere, not with the living.
My mother was a poet. I have her journals and her writings and have read some of them from time to time, but don't stay with it very long. I don't want to call her back because the most loving thing I can do is support her spirit in moving on. This is my experience, though. Other people could experience this very differently.
Lezbeth
Thanks!
Thanks!
thanks Sabrina
and i can only ad to your title that :
they can do a hole lot more
if only one is willing and able to notice and be aware of it,for that is often the key
maybe he knows
sometimes one knows feels without needing words etc.
by thinking and yes writing like you did here for example
you are reaching out
*its the body that might be gone but its the spirit that can move on*
Yes, Sabrina,
I'm convinced that our deceased loved ones are with us and their ways are mysterious. Your writing about this touched me deeply. I've lost many dear friends to AIDS. I was with one of them when he passed. Although he has been present with me, other loved ones have been more frequent visitors. My former lover, my father and my brother are most frequent. I notice them both in waking and in dreaming. My mother hovers tentatively, still not certain what her death meant, disquieted and unresolved in life and in death.
When we are sensitive to the spirit world, I think we find the veil is very thin. But we don't live there...yet. Although many people seem so certain about what happens after death, I have no clear idea at all. That leads me to think that despite what any of us believe in, our business here is with the living. I do believe that our loved ones beyond the veil are both here and there for us. In the meantime, that sweetness of attending someone's transition is a profoundly intimate and transforming experience. It adjusted the lens through which I saw the world for several months each time I've experienced it. Thank you for sharing so deeply about your friend and how you were affected by his passing. You took me back to that place.
Lezbeth
Up to my yangs!
I'm up to my yangs in catastrophe claims in DFW - and don't have time to properly comment here; but, I wanted to let you know that I find this blog extremely thought provoking. Until then, please go take a look at the last blog I wrote titled "Land of the Living." I find it interesting that we both have been thinking about mortality and the beyond. I hope we get to revisit old friends and loved ones that have moved on in the continuum - until then, I'll keep listening to what they have to say to me now!
Nothing but love
Tex
Will do Tex...
Will do Tex...
grabs tex her yin's or ying's ?
in order to balance her out
winks
and your right text this blog is as is yours !
and love to read your coment here
ok B.S. (means :be safe) and laters hon
Thoughts
Thank you for your sharing. I am sorry for you loss, it's such a hard thing to lose someone close to you. My father died when I was 17. Since then, I always think about the bigger picture. How will i feel when someone close to me dies. Would I have regrets? Did I treat them badly? Couldn't I have spared just 10 minutes to call and say hi?
I really don't know what happens when we die. I do not believe in a heaven or hell but I would love to believe that we do continue in a non-corporial state to see and guide our loved ones. To learn new things and continue the evolution of the soul.
Playing devils advocate here, what happens if when we die, we just die? Would that make our lives any less meaningful? Would we behave differently if we knew for a fact that there would be no lasting reprocussions on our soul?
--==--==--
I've Woken Now To Find Myself In The Shadows Of All I Have Created
Here Now...
I think that life is equally meaningful if we "just" die which is possible in regards to a tangible and recognizable soul or "I am ness". What we have and is tangible is the present so I try to focus on my actions now and expressing my "self" fully now until I die. Then we'll see...
I don't know what happens either but I sure love thinking about all of the possibilities. Thanks!
Grandpa hangs around still
My girlfriend's Grandma is up there in age. And when she has really bad days is when my girlfriend sees her Grandpa hanging around. He passed away more than several years ago. But her and her mother see him and know he comes around and checks up on her.
I don't see him (or others) because I choose not to. It isn't that I don't believe they are there, I would just rather not.
There was an instance while I was in Scotland, during Halloween, where I had a dream and sat and had many a conversation with many an ancestor. I don't remember what was said by any of us, but I knew it was time well spent. And this is in a country where they still understand the true meaning of Halloween. It is the night when the veil between our world and the next is the thinnest and those that have gone find it easiest to come check on us.
And on a lighter side, there were a few instances where a white animal appeared in my dreams with an important message for me, one being my Grandma's poodle which I disliked very much. I ignored them of course, only to interpret the rest of the dream later finding many a symbolism in reference to sexuality. What did they come to tell me? "Don't date that boy, you are gay!"
Poodle Messages...
That's funny, poodle dreams! In so many cultures that veil you refer to is acknowledged and respected. Why do you choose not to see those things?
Honestly, because it scares
Honestly, because it scares me. I don't mind people hanging out to help people or because they need help, I know there are plenty of others who can see them and help them, I just would rather not. Not saying that I don't, but that is usually the occasional Highway spirit on the side of the road, but I just prefer not to see them, especially in my own space.
I think it's the same for me L_E
I am open minded, but the things I cannot see but know are there can creep me out, so though I acknowledge that they are there, I don't think about it a lot because believe it or not, even fastgurrrl gets scared about some shit. Ha! :) Peace, Jodie
P.S. I have only seen a guardian/guide/angel whatever you want to call them once, and the story about how this occurred is incredibly interesting, to me, and I remember it very clearly and will never forget that weekend. I'm pretty sure it was Melissa's guardian (my recent ex, we are still friends), who is very spiritual/aware/open (she practices Reiki). I discussed this with our friend, and Melissa's Reiki master, Leslie, who confirmed upon my description of him that this was one of Melissa's guardians, and I think she even named him, because Leslie has interacted with him before while giving Melissa Reiki. See, so I BELIEVE this stuff, but it still can creep me out! I so want to be more receptive and less scared about it, but I guess that's still on my evolution agenda. :)
I'm there with you. It
I'm there with you. It would be nice to become more comfortable with it and let it in without being scared, but that is a process that takes time and can only happen when you are ready.
Wow Sabrina, what a surprising and DEEP topic
My Mom, Lila Rose York, went away in Feb. '06. We knew for several years before this that she had cancer, which started in her left breast (supposedly). I had a phone conversation with her in one of these later years, when we knew it was beginning to spread, asking her to please try and contact me whenever she went away if she could. It hasn't happened, as far as I've been able to realize. I have a picture of her up in my home and I smile and say hi to her sometimes. I still hope to get *something* from her.
Slightly off-topic (but still relevant, I think), I wanted to share something that I don't know if anybody else reading this has ever experienced before. Me, my sister Lisa, and our Nana were staying at my Mom's home in San Jose during the month of February (Mom's last days) taking care of ALL of her needs, with visits from hospice. One night (the days and hours just blended and morphed together like you wouldn't believe) I stayed up taking care of her med's (morphine) to minimize her discomfort. She would drift in and out of different states of consciousness. It seemed she had fallen into a heavy sleep (this was within the first week we were with her, and she was having a very ROUGH time) so I just sat with her in case she came to and needed something. Her breathing began to change. The amount of time between the in and out breaths was increasing to the point that I truly believed I was going to be with my Mom as she passed. The pause at the top of the out breath had me leaning towards her, and thinking each time that this was going to be the last one. It sounded like a machine was forcing the next in breath, with a very pronounced and almost a violent inhalation sound of "YOU WILL BREATHE." I sat like this for an unknown/unremembered length of time. I was transfixed, my breathing became slower, as I was on the edge of my seat and there was no way I could leave her side. I wanted to be there with her if she passed on. What happened next I will always remember. At the top of the exhale and extended pause before the next inhale, her mouth was open and I began to hear something. Remember, there was a significant pause between the two breaths, with silence, there was no weezing. During this silence, with her mouth open, I heard something coming out of her mouth/throat that sounded like a swirling or swooshing (sorry, I don't really know how to describe it) of air...but in that moment, she wasn't breathing AT ALL. I felt and believe still that I was hearing the sound of her spirit/soul getting ready to separate and leave the shell. It was an amazing experience. My Mother was a very stubborn and strong woman, which was a double-edged sword for her...and is for me. It was like she just fucking refused to go that night, because SHE WASN'T READY YET GAWD DAMMIT, even though EVERYTHING indicated that she was on the way out...but she just plain REFUSED. I wish with all of my heart that she would have let go and moved on that night with me by her side, but she didn't. It took a few more weeks, and a lot of pain, for everyone involved, before her body just couldn't take it anymore, and then she went away. However, she must have had plans with her refusal to submit that night, because even though it was rough on everyone, her and I in particular had some amazing moments of conversation after that which helped me to let go of a lot pain and regret that had built up, as a result of her Christian religious beliefs, which was the catalyst for us wasting SO MUCH TIME THAT WE COULD HAVE SPENT TOGETHER LOVING EACH OTHER.
I hope to hear from her in someway someday. I miss her so much sometimes, and I know that we would be much better friends to each other if we had the chance.
Peace, Jodie
RIP, Allan
RIP Lila Rose York
Wow, Jodie, I'm still taking in your story. My mom's death, although quite different had a massive consciousness altering and even destructive impact on me. Where to begin...? The way she died and the again surprise of it threw me towards a spiral of grief and missing her that took years of work to make "okay". Anyway, thanks so much for sharing your story. That rattle you speak of is a threshold and it's incredible the will your mom had to delay her transition. To our Mothers!
xx,
Sabrina
did you ever thought of the fact ..
that the reason why she was not ready to go that night was simple because (maybe she knew) the both of you (and perhaps some others to) where not ready yet and as you said there was still something left to be done? ( and luckily you all did have or get that time)
you say :
SO MUCH TIME THAT WE COULD HAVE SPENT TOGETHER LOVING EACH OTHER.
maybe this showed that time is what we make of it. mm how say?
its not the amount of time but the depth of it.
what you might see as a waste later on in life can turn out to be a blessing. because is it not that partly because of that her journey became so special? and the loving ? well it might not have always showed as being there but that does not mean it was not there.
again what you write to me proves that she loves you a lot i think
if not would she have been so stubborn of leaving as you said?
strange but this pops in to my head:
Friends ? i am more then that .. i am your mom!
(friendship as you say can be a part of a mother daughter relation yet goes beyond that to)
and about the fact of saying : if we had the chance
you still do and can ( if that has not happened already)
and you hope to hear from her in someway someday?
hon guess what? you may have already
not every one hears voices not everyone sees spirits
the messages to most are often not so clear or hidden in small things and ways.
it can be the breez of the wind touching your cheek
that one star at night suddenly appearing to shine a bit brighter
a bird in a tree waking you up in the morning at first maybe bugging you but when really listen and when it flies away lifting your spirit up.
a song or a tex that comes unexpected yet looking back was at the right time or moment.
the sun warming your heart as if she is holding you and smiling
even the rain that helps was some things away
like i said there are many ways
to show you that she is in fact closer to you then you might think
(sorry if this sounds like rambling)
p.s. i hope what i wrote don't hurt or upset you for that is not my intention !
Thanks Kit :)
No way you upset me. I have friends in other countries (my French friend in particular) and have learned to understand/decode what sometimes could get lost in translation, verbally and written. I appreciated you taking the time to write me like that, and you made me think about some cool stuff. Thank you. :) Peace, Jodie
this line ...
quote:
Do you fear your own death as I sometimes do?
i can and will answer...
I do not fear my own death
I do fear what my death might or would / could
do to others though
and
I do fear the death of the people that i love & or care about.
All of the above.
All of the above.
my
best friends little brother died on my birthday 2 years ago.I spent my teens hanging out with my bff and all her 9 siblings. I remember her youngest brother as this affectionate little kid. I saw him once since he had become an adult several years ago. He had an untimely death at the age of 28. For some reason we now share that day, my arrival is the day of his departure. because of this he will always be in my thoughts and we'll celebrate the day together.
The Yin and the Yang,
The Yin and the Yang, inhalation and exhalation.
they really do
Sabrina, thank you for writing about your friend, and about messages from those we've loved and lost and found again. I always feel the world to be smaller, warmer and more reassuring when I read about the experience of other folks when it comes to these things. I'm inspired by your example, so I'll share a story of mine, too.
My dear friend Michael White passed away two years and three weeks ago. We were neighbors and we shared a mutual love of books, food, words and Judi Dench movies. (He was enchanted with the invention of imdb.com, with the help of which we were planning a Dame Judi marathon in the days leading up to his passing.) His death was sudden, for all that it came following a serious, ten year illness. He died three weeks after the organ transplant he had been waiting for all that time, from complications after surgery.
He was a kindred soul if ever I've known one, and when he passed, I felt the separation keenly, and grieved for him like no one else I've lost. I knew he'd be just fine where he was headed, just as we all eventually outgrow these flesh spacesuits we walk around in, down here in the advanced placement course in spiritual evolution known as Crash Course 101: Life on Earth.
At any rate, when he died I asked for some sort of sign to be given to me once he was settled back in to what most folks refer to as Heaven and I tend to think of simply as "home." And I got that message loud and clear two weeks later. I was at the movies with my 81 year old grandmother, seeing "Mrs. Henderson Presents." As the movie began, I swear I could feel him sitting right behind me, this glowing, living burble of laughter and light. Either to prove to me he was really there or to show off, or both, he proceeded to inform me precisely what Judi Dench was about to do next in the movie for the next few scenes.
It wasn't the first experience I'd ever had like that, but it is definitely the one that has meant the most to me. Again, thanks for blogging about this stuff. It's a timely reminder of Big Picture benevolence.
"Big Picture Benevolence"
Right on Julia! I love your spacesuit analogy. I also think of the body as a husk, albeit a compelling, wondrous and miraculous one that can fall away to reveal so much. I love the body and everything that it allows me to experience but culturally we seem to simultaneously grasp at it and deny it. Here's to your friend Michael...
My mothers
My mothers never visit me hardly, except...
I see the first one in my dreams when there's a grave issue I've been ignoring in my life. When I am being unkind to myself. She sits and has inane conversations with me and I am always aware of a tension in the room. I wake up always, KNOWING what needs to be done.
The second visits me in order to warn me. She tells me when the world is being unkind to me. I wake up knowing who in my life should be distanced from me.