Twenty nine years ago, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, a young man I loved was found dead in a ditch in north Tulsa, shot three times in the back of the head.
Eight years ago I prayed to get out of this living hell so I could be with Mike again. Today, in the same Mike-free world, I'm prone to ending texts and emails with "I love this life!" We are here, our loved ones are Here, and it's all the same. There is nothing to fear. The heartbeat of Love is eternal.
Death is an illusion. Love never dies. Our connections with those we loved in this life are eternal.
"That any of us get through this crazy human existence is a miracle. Best to hold tight and laugh and holler as much as we can. The waves ~ of grief, of trauma, of sadness, of all of it, the good stuff too ~ rush over us, but they also recede. There is joy to be found in sticking together."
My mother vanished 49 years ago. And then she came back from the dead. Mediumship is so healing. This is how I came to believe.
Being present for our loved ones at the time of death brings great gifts. Listen to this podcast about the holy experience of sharing death.
"... What, after all, would be banging on the window on a quiet street at midnight? Brad opened the front door a few inches, peeked out, and suddenly there was a wild onslaught of heavy feathered body and flapping wings. A "really big" bird hurtled through the few inches of opening and shot into the house."
Years ago, about seven months after my husband died, I was driving across town on a glorious spring day, top down on my little car. I was thinking of the circumstances of Mike’s illness and death, of the countless instances of extreme neglect and serious errors which led to cardiac arrest, subsequent kidney failure and, … Continue reading forgiving the unforgivable