Tag Archives: eternal life

The Light. She Saw the Light.

Standard

mother portrait

As I stood by mother’s bedside, talking to her and trying to reassure her, I was distraught. We brought her home and promised her that we would not send her back to the hospital and now the worst had happened. We did not yet have everything hospice would provide to help her and, from what I was witnessing, she could die at any moment. I felt helpless and wanted to cradle her in my arms for safe keeping. I kept telling her I loved her and everything would be okay. Even if she didn’t respond; I knew she would hear me on some level.

Over the years, I had many times felt that it was up to me to save mother. It was, of course, a foolish thought, but one that carried a shared agreement between us. She and I would both do our best, so we could enjoy more time, laughs and adventures together.

Now, I found myself running in and out of her room, down to the kitchen to get anything I thought might make her feel better – peppermint tea, cool water. I held her hand and talked quietly to her, I used some of my Reiki energy, moving slowly over her body and calling forth all healing. I prayed. I chanted my mantra.

In short order, Bill and Judy heard the commotion and came from their bedroom on the third floor and met up with me in the hallway. I don’t know why I hadn’t wakened them before. They would surely have helped.

“What’s going on?” they asked urgently. I told them I thought it was possible Mom was dying. It was the first time that they saw her in this state, even though it had been happening frequently in the hospital. They gathered around Mother’s bed, talking with her and trying to soothe her. Now they saw firsthand how grave the situation was. I told them I would call hospice and see if they could help.

As I spoke with hospice, I explained that mother had not yet been admitted to their system. She was scheduled for this the next day.
It never occurred to us that one day would make such a difference. We had none of the powerful drugs hospice would bring the next day. I begged them to tell me what to do. They did their best. We were all helpless. They suggested we dial 911. We all said no. We were on our own and frightened beyond measure. Mother would have to make herself live through that long night. And she did. But something happened to her that night that I did not, at the time, fully understand.

When Mother was again able to speak, she looked up at the ceiling and repeatedly pointed to something. “The light” she said, wistfully, “Look at the light.” She smiled slightly and turned to me. She thought that I could share what she saw. I could not, but I was very familiar with these words as a common statement made by those who have had near death experiences. They usually saw a light not describable in this world and one that brought enormous peace.

I believe now with certainty that, during that night, my mother parted the thin veil separating life and death, as we termed it. She had crossed into the Light of Eternal and Divine Love. Now everything would be different for all of us. Now she would be teaching and showing us, in her own way, that she had already seen where she was going.

Healing Words in Times of Grief: Newtown

Standard

In confronting the terrible tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, I reached back into other times when I have faced grief and loss. Now our entire nation has felt the reverberations emanating from that seemingly perfect New England town. So I have tried to choose words of comfort.  Some will resonate than others, but it is my hope that something here will sootheand lessen the heavy weight of loss.

We will all lose loved ones.  No one escapes this truth.  Loss and grief have a commonality; we miss those who are no longer with us.  We feel this whether they are are taken too young , in senseless violence and before they have blossomed or if they have experienced a long life, as in the case of my mother who departed at age 98.  We still miss them and wish for yet another day or, in the case of all those so young and innocent, a lifetime of becoming who they would have been. 

This poem, among many other writings, touched my heart and I offer it to you.  It was printed on a funeral card for my mother. The author is Mary Elizabeth Frye:

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there.  I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glint in snow.

I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there.  I did not die.

I had never heard these words before, but they served as a source of great comfort to me.  They spoke of the Truth I already embraced; that none of us die and that life is eternal. I believe this at the core of my being, yet I still felt tremendous loss.  As my mother moved ever closing to departing the world, she made it abundantly clear that she knew where she was going. After she stopped breathing and miracles unfolded,  it was not long before shesent scores of signs and messages indicating her presence and her love for us.  While I did not expect this, they were there. We who witnessed them were enthralled. 

To all who have lost loved ones, watch, stay tuned, and be aware. Instead of doubting something you see or hear or experience, try to be open to messages you may receive from deceased loved ones.  They may or may not come; this is not a measure of how much love there is between you.  For me and my family, we were always amazed and never expected any of the many communications that took place.  They bolstered and cheered us.  The book, Hello From Heaven, by Bill and Judy Guggenheim, is full of accounts of many after death communications.  I recommend it as a source of information and for the wonders within.  But whatever brings comfort, let it be there in abundance.  There is love flowing to you always, both from heaven and earth.

Peace be with you.

For more writings: www.deannemincer.com and https://deannemincer.wordpress.com