Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Crumbling into Dust

2011 was an "interesting" year, to say the least. For Christmas, I even created for my family t-shirts that had "I survived 2011" printed on them.

My mom unexpectedly died in November of 2010. My father was having chemo treatments at the time. The cancer in his lungs, because of other health issues, was not operated on and was not doing anything until the doctors noticed it had started growing again in the fall of 2010. I remember in the haze of it all to having to schedule his chemo treatment around Mom's funeral. It all seemed so ridiculous and overwhelming.

My poor dad. I can still picture the bewildered look on his face in those few weeks around the funeral. He hadn't (and honestly my sisters hadn't either) expected that my mother would go first. And he was alone, for the first time in 54 years. In the house they had shared together for nearly as long. I was able to help him close up Mom's estate (I was named Executrix for both of them) but I couldn't help him with their daily bills. Dad seemed to pick it up pretty quickly but my mother had done the budgeting and finances their whole married life.

As the reality of Mom's passing came over me, I immediately started to freak out about my dad. Her death hit him hard and slowed down any healing and recovery from his own health issues. My sisters and I had never seen him look more feeble. However, he had fought cancer a few times already; was he going to win this round too? No one knew and the reality that I could lose both of my parents in a year hit home very very hard. January through March or April was a blur. Between checking in and caring for Dad and grieving, I don't remember much except a lot of emotional pain that was so deep it was physical. I fought to not grieve for them both, but it happened anyway. I struggled because I didn't want to spend whatever time I had with Dad with grieving. I had the chance to have quality time and I was afraid of losing that. But the pain at times was so excruciating I didn't know if I was going to have a mental breakdown.

Then one evening I partook in a psychic fair (I don't think I was reading but helped organize it). I was washed out, dragged out and hung to dry. I sought out my friend Jennifer, who is an amazing psychic. I asked if she could give me a tarot reading to help guide me and help me find a saner place in life. As I talked to her, I broke down for the billionth time (I was crying so much around that time my cheeks were getting raw from the tears). Jen all of sudden said "Your mom is here".

This was something pretty new to Jen; channeling those who had passed was something she had only begun to experience and had not really worked out what she wanted to do when a spirit contacted her. Going with her gut, she began to speak for my mother. I don't remember it all, but I do remember a tremendous sense of peace and relief slowly washing over me that felt so so good. We talked about forgiveness, unconditional love and that she was so happy where she was. We talked about Dad and my sisters. I apologized for not being a good daughter and she apologized for not always being the best mother. My body began to relax and feel so much lighter, lighter than it had felt in months. I began to let go.

With the exception of my grandmother dying in 2004 I had not experienced any major loss before then. I had not really examined what I felt about death. It scared me and it was something scary and to avoid at all costs. This experience has laid the groundwork for acceptance. This is still an ongoing process but I feel I am further along than I used to be. Thanks Mom.

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