can our loved ones in spirit leave us?

Bad news: I wasn’t my mom’s favorite. She loved us all equally while recognizing how very different we are. She celebrates the closeness her three daughters have and feels it intensely when we laugh together. More about that later. But that news came from a spontaneous reading with Suzanne Giesemann, intended to bring through our mutual friend Brenda Baker. 

That happened. Brenda, who’s been missing in action for some time, and who was our very dear friend and, after her death, Suzanne’s mediumship guide, sort of bowed out. I’ve had a few signs from her, have felt her at times, but Suzanne said that she pretty much vanished about a year ago.

Since we were going to be together, I asked Suzanne if we could sit and try to connect with Brenda. Playing with spirit is a blast, and this felt like play. No pain or confusion or grief to resolve. Just “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” And that’s what we wanted to know. Where have you been?? Whatcha doing now? Why the ghosting?

She showed up and was her sassy self. She had lots of information for Suzanne about the work she’s doing to bring Love to the world. She mentioned the Zsa Zsa Gabor / Feather Boa Story that was the most astonishing piece of evidence Brenda provided 24 hours after her death. At one point she laughed and said, “Oh by the way, Ty just got some chocolate,” which indeed turned out to be the case and proves not only that spirit sees everything but that a sense of humor is one of the delicious aspects of being in that state. We don’t lose it. Laughter is one of those “fruits of the spirit” that church book talks about, falling under the bigger category of joy. It’s eternal and no doubt even more prevalent absent our human suits.

We were winding down and I said, “hey Brenda, do you see Mike?” In the too short years Brenda and I had together, she requested endless stories of my sweet husband Mike. She loved hearing about the kind of loving relationship that had eluded her in life.

Suzanne’s head turned immediately left. “He’s right here.” Of course. It was Brenda whose death really cemented the concept that there is no place to go, no other place to be. Everything is right here, right now, everpresent, and that means all of our people too. So who shows up in any given moment is just a matter of connection and what’s needed or wanted at that particular moment. When Suzanne channeled Brenda two days after her death, that was also my question and I will never forget her response. “Oh yeah, he’s right here, and Harry’s* here too. Now I get why you love him so much.” 

Our people do not leave us. They may leave our awareness and we can work to get that back. To a degree. Mostly an unsatisfying degree. It’s hard to give up constancy. It activates all of the why’s and a sense of unfairness and that deep, irreparable feeling of having something stolen from us. 

It isn’t the same. I wish I could say it was. But for many of us ~ me included ~ what comes after grief can bring incredible gifts. That is absolutely true and I am so very grateful it’s been my experience that after a long time of the most hopeless misery, I found something that helped and healed not only my broken heart, but a fear of death that held me captive for decades. Not everyone heals in that way, which is just another indicator that though we are One, we are each here for our own experiences. One way is not better than another. They’re just different. 

So back to that conversation with spirit: After Brenda, Mike, then my mom, then my dad, angel dog Boo, and a mention of little Bill, my other dog child. But the reason I’m writing this is because in the *second* mention of writing by my people (first Mike, then mom, such nags), my mom said that she would have loved to write things that might have touched others as well. 

Given her life, she would have had a lot to say: her mother died when she was an infant, her adoptive family was monstrous, college and meeting my dad changed her life, she loved her girls AND wished for a life in the bigger world, an outlet for her creativity. And then the fluke that lit the fuse of a thing that blew up her life. Decompensating PTSD and/or bipolar disorder, and all that came after. 

Her words were gentle and encouraging and while I no longer ascribe to guilt as a guiding force in my life, I felt a little echo of something there. “You can write, it helps you and others. That’s something I would have done if I could have.” Oh Audrey. Even writing that makes me a little weepy this morning.

So this is in honor of my mother, a vivid and shining light who not only gifted me with arthritis in my hands (she actually said that, while my dad, not to be outdone with chip-off-the-old-block-ness said my toe problems come from him), but confessed that while she loves me madly, cherishes me, adores me, always did and still does, she felt the same way about my bad sisters, who weren’t nearly as malleable when it came to learning how to cook and sew, embroider, and mend. 

I would laugh when I said I was her favorite, because I’ve always known I was really just the most pliable one and I actually enjoyed doing those domestic things, whereas the sisters hated them. It’s so precious to hear from her and to know that she recognizes all of us for how we are, how we’ve lived our lives, the challenges, every bit of it, and through all of it, there has been unwavering love, truly cherishing love. And presence. There is a holy enchantment in knowing that.

In AA we talk about how you have to “put the plug in the jug” if you’re going to work the steps effectively. I am doing the opposite: I’m taking the plug out of the jug on countless essays I’ve written and set aside in the last year. There’s a lot in drafts. Mediumship addiction. Contracts with spirit. Peace monks. Reincarnated dogs. So much more. My mom said “write, I would if I could,” and so it is. This ~ and more ~ will be for you, Audrey Pearl. 

*Harry, our dear friend Patty’s husband, who Brenda also adored. Patty has been a bit under the weather and Brenda brought that up, asking that we let Patty know she’s been watching over. This is how it works, whether we’re aware or not, and isn’t that a comfort?