I’m turning my thoughts to grief, loss and how we manage in those terrible times of sadness. Those of you that are used to me blogging about happiness, joy and authenticity might be a little surprised to discover that in our times of sorrow and grief some of our same energy tools are powerful allies. During this month of blog posts, I’d like to share with you some parts of my story and how I dealt with the pain of losing a loved one. These are excerpts from my new book, Walking in Grace with Grief Meditations for Healing After Loss.
The knock on the door came on a Sunday evening. The knock no mother wants to answer. There were two people standing on my steps that evening: a man and a woman. He was tall and strong, she was small and petite. I smiled as I opened the door. The woman said, “Hello, I am from the county coroner’s office. This is Officer …” I really don’t remember the rest of the sentence because that was enough. The coroner was here in my living room.
They told me that my sweet, twenty-nine-year-old son, Rick, had been in a solo car accident on a mountain road that afternoon and had died at the scene. My immediate thought was to rush to Rick’s side, to offer him comfort and to ease his pain, but the coroner was here. There was no hope. No surgeries to fix his broken body. No tubes, no nurses, no hope. The coroner was here in my living room. My son was dead.
Most of us have dealt with the death of a loved one. Some of us have experienced the same knock and had the same conversation with coroners, medical professionals, or chaplains. In that respect my story is similar to many. But in many other ways it is not. And that’s the story I want to share.
Grieving a Different Way
Life is full of synchronicity: little acts of luck, good timing, and coincidence. Whatever label you choose, the right people surrounded me at the right time. After David and I had told our daughter, Megan, about her brother’s death, she called her best friend, who lived across the country. Kitty and Megan talked for an hour or more. Afterward, Kitty called her mother, Ann Carroll (“AC” as she is known to her friends). As a spiritual medium, AC communicates with souls who have passed over.
AC understood that Rick would be frightened and dazed by the trauma of dying. So she contacted him, Spirit to Spirit. She found him, still quite close to the accident site, not fully aware of his new state of being. Rick was confused. AC called out to him, and he answered her. What he said to her was so typical of my son. He said, “Who the f*** are you, and what are you doing here?” When I heard about this from my daughter the following afternoon, I smiled in agreement. It’s not the language a mother would want attributed to her son, but that was his phrasing and his typical way of responding to things. AC explained who she was and told Rick that he had died. She asked how the accident had happened, and Rick explained that as he reached to get something from the floor of his car, he swerved and hit a tree. She told him that for the next few days he might want to stay close to his family, and then she would come back and help him cross over to the Other Side.
As Megan told David and me all of this, I felt an immediate sense of relief. I now knew how the accident happened and, most importantly, that Rick was safe. That might sound funny to some, but my motherly instinct was to reach out and shield my son from discomfort and ease his confusion. AC did that for me. I could breathe easier knowing Rick was indeed “alive”—that he was being cared for and guided toward his new path.
How Do We Speak Spirit to Spirit?
How is it that a spiritual medium can contact the dead? Can we all do this, or is it just for someone with the “sight”? I know most of my relatives were thinking, “Are you just making this up and not acknowledging that your child is dead?”
I believe human beings are so much more than just physical bodies. We are fields of energy. We can “communicate” with others along fine lines of intertwining energy: the “web of life,” as some biologists call it. Like many others, AC has the skill of traversing these planes of energy and communicating Spirit to Spirit.
Most of us have experienced flashes of insight or known who was on the phone before we answered it. Sometimes we dismiss these occurrences as coincidence or lucky guesses. We downplay our intuitive abilities either because we are embarrassed or have been trained to believe it is all nonsense.
I believe that we all have the ability to communicate with our deceased loved ones. Some of us are born with very clear communication channels, while others like me go to school to re-learn, to awaken, and to remember our natural state of hyperconsciousness. At the time of my son’s death, I was immersed in a year-long psychic awareness program. The focus of our class time was building a skill base to allow us to open our psychic pathways. Over the years, as I have continued in my studies, I have become adept at reading auras and seeing and feeling energies. This is a skill, just like playing a piano. It is not “woo-woo”; it is not “far out.” It is a natural, albeit underdeveloped, part of being human. This skill was of immense help to me in the weeks and months following Rick’s death.
Part 2 of My Story to continue in my next post.
If this post resonated with you and you would like to read more, Walking in Grace with Grief Meditations for Healing After Loss is available on Amazon or at your local bookstore. From my heart to yours.