Dearly Departed (12 page)
There were some leftover biscuits from her morning tea on the little table by her chair. Very carefully placing them in the cup of her hand, she gradually moved out of her chair and gingerly walked towards the bird, presenting the small offering. She was surprised as the bird moved closer to her and accepted the morsels.
A flood of childhood memories flashed in front of her, taking her back to her parents’ home in the mountains.
Amanda remembered how the cockatoos would gather in the trees surrounding their home in the late afternoons. Their squawking was deafening, silenced only when her dad ventured out with trays of his traditional mix of moistened bread and honey, one of their favourite afternoon treats. She remembered how her father would lovingly and patiently guide her young hand towards the perched cockatoos, sitting on the side fence. It was how she had learnt to overcome her fear of birds. They had seemed so large compared to the small stature of a seven-year-old child.
Had her father sent this bird? Or better still—was this bird her father? Amanda may never know. Within her spirit she felt that the unexpected visitor was divinely sent to remind her of a fear she had learnt to overcome with the aid of her father’s presence.
Now in spirit, he could still reach out and guide her through this new fear surrounding death.
There will be some people who have not experienced the devotional love of a pet and will never be able to comprehend your depression and sadness at the loss of your beloved pet. You may suffer in silence. Their passing may trigger a memory of someone else you have lost, and the flood of emotions may well rush back.
At this time you may wish to choose some of the examples I have used in the chapter ‘Life is a Celebration’ to guide you through this process. It will take time to work through the emotional roller-coaster you are experiencing. Don’t compare your time in grieving to that of a friend. We’re all at different stages. However, there’s one thing I can guarantee—time does heal!
Many of you will be wondering what has happened to your special mate. It’s only natural to want to know if your pet is with familiar faces or people they knew when they were alive. In one Dearly Departed reading, I remember seeing a particular dog sitting quietly and contentedly on the feet of their loved one, only to be told afterwards that the dog belonged to the next-door neighbour and was always chasing their cats! Maybe the dog chose them because they were a familiar person—it certainly looked content. Perhaps theirs was a karmic lesson of tolerance and forgiveness that needed to be worked out between the two.
Nevertheless, your beloved animal will be linked with familiar individuals on the other side. They are not alone!
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
St Francis of Assisi
S
olomon’s last days became a profound spiritual experience for all concerned. His family’s ritual became a sacred act of service, allowing his soul to be nurtured with grace and dignity as he moved from this world to the next. And as for Mary, her beloved friends’ end-of-life vigil was shared with her through comforting stories, prayers and gentle touch.
There are also some dearly departed souls who choose to make the final farewell themselves—appearing to their loved ones in dreams and visitations. This happened to Diane. Diane just adored her Papa Alfred and Nanna Florence. The extended family all lived within half an hour’s drive of each other, which enabled Diane to spend much of her time growing up with her grandparents. She was especially close to her grandmother. Diane enjoyed hearing stories about when Florence was a girl, and she would read storybooks to Diane. She felt treasured and adored.
As Diane matured into a woman and became a mother herself, they both realised they had something more in common. They both shared a great love and interest in the supernatural world and all things psychic. Diane was devastated when she learnt that Papa Alfred had been rushed to hospital suffering from a severe stroke.
At the age of 82 the prognosis wasn’t good—he could pass away at any moment.
Florence knew Alfred was made of tough stock, and if anyone could prove them wrong he would. She refused to believe he was going to die. The family rallied around his bedside, and the priest had been called to give Alfred the ‘last rites’. The hospital staff suggested the family go home for some rest—they’d be notified if there were any significant changes. Florence was still in a state of denial, refusing to believe that her beloved husband was on the brink of dying, so she went home with the rest of the family to freshen up. A lovely bath was prepared for her, and Diane and her parents quickly showered and dressed, as they knew the hospital may call at any moment. Diane’s parents decided to return to the hospital while Diane stayed with Florence, to keep her company and watch over her as she had complained in the hospital and since returning home of funny pains in her stomach.
Due to the rush to the hospital, Florence had missed taking her daily dose of laxative, and asked her daughter to buy some for her at the local chemist the following day, believing this was the reason for the pains in her stomach. Diane and her dad had recently attended a meditation course, and both had practised a guided imagery meditation recorded on a tape. They had each purchased a copy. Diane felt that if she could talk her nanna into doing this meditation, she’d feel calmer and at peace, and perhaps her stomach pain would settle.
She knew where to locate her dad’s cassette, and made the suggestion to Florence. First she gave Florence some reiki healing then settled her comfortably on the lounge before switching on the cassette tape that played a meditation called ‘The Sanctuary’.
About three-quarters of the way through the meditation, Florence put up her hand and said to Diane, ‘I have just seen my mother and heard her voice, she’s calling me Florrie. Doesn’t it mean when you see this and somebody calls you that you’re going to die?’ Diane explained that she didn’t know what it meant, and tried to get Florence to focus on positive things—that her husband was going to be all right and if not, there would be people in the afterlife who would be there to look after him and make him cups of tea, and not to fear living by herself as she knew she would be welcome to stay with her daughter and son-in-law.
Florence wasn’t comforted by this, as she loved her home and beautiful garden. Diane suggested they return to complete the meditation, but Florence’s mind was elsewhere and she asked if they could leave it for the time being. She was concerned that if her beloved Alfred died, who would make him his sandwiches, get his pyjamas ready, roll down the bed and just basically take good care of him, like she had.
Just then Diane’s parents returned from the hospital saying that Alfred was ‘holding his own’, and if he was still going, they would leave early the next morning to visit him.
Florence was feeling very tired, still with the funny pain in her stomach, so her daughter put her to bed in the spare room, and the last Diane remembers of Florence was of her sitting up with piles of cushions behind her back, her daughter sitting on the side of the bed giving her a cup of tea. Diane kissed her nanna goodbye as she left for her own home for a rest and a change of clothes.
When Diane arrived home, her son was curled up asleep next to his father in their bed, so she decided to sleep the night in her son’s bed. Turning off his bedside light, she fell into a deep, deep sleep.
Suddenly, she awoke to the bedside light switch on, and heard Florence say, ‘Diane, Diane—wake up’. Diane was exhausted, she didn’t want to be rude, but felt she just couldn’t totally wake up— she hoped she was dreaming.
Then her nanna touched her on the shoulder, and in a rather offish tone Diane said, ‘Oh Nan, what is it?’ She wondered to herself what Florence was doing in her son’s bedroom. Maybe the whole family’s here to tell me Papa has died. Finally she asked her nanna, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I must leave you,’ Florence replied.
‘What do you mean?’
Florence smiled and said, ‘Good night Dolly, I must leave you.’ She learned forward and kissed Diane.
Still feeling disgruntled, Diane thought to herself, ‘Whatever, I’ll see you in the morning.’
Then she heard Florence say, ‘Goodbye PK.’ Dolly and PK were pet names her nanna called her. She had a drawer full of two types of chewing gum, PK and Juicy Fruit, and whenever Diane left Forence’s house she’d affectionately say, ‘Goodbye PK’, and Diane would say, ‘Goodbye Juicy Fruit’.
Diane went back to sleep, only to be woken by her father opening the bedroom door and switching the light on. Diane asked her father if Papa had died.
‘No, Diane, I have some sad news—Nanna has died. She died while your mother sat on her bed. She said she had a pain in her stomach, took a deep breath, put her head to one side and she was gone. You need to come back to the house, everyone is there.’
By the time she arrived at her parents’ home, the doctor had been and gone, declaring Florence had died from a burst aorta, the police had left and Florence’s body had been taken to the morgue. Diane was devastated as she had only spoken to her nanna several hours before at her parents’ house, where they shared a meditation together, and she wanted to say goodbye to her physically.
Several of the family members escorted Diane to the morgue where she saw Florence for the last time. Diane really felt she needed to see her in the flesh, only then would she believe Florence had really died and the visit from her was a spiritual visitation. Her soul had come to bid farewell especially to her, something Diane would be able to treasure for the rest of her life. The visit did in fact make Diane feel better. It was now obvious to the family that Florence knew Diane would be very distressed and made a special effort to say goodbye.
Alfred lay unconscious in the hospital for another six days. The family members visited him frequently—some gave him reiki, and others told stories of events and special days that would be familiar to him. One particular day Diane leant over to her papa, kissed him on his forehead and whispered in his ear that Florence had died. ‘She went to make plenty of cups of tea for you. She has some beautiful cakes—your favourite. She was worried that if you went, there would be no-one to take care of you. Now you have her waiting for you—it’s okay to go to her.’ Alfred passed away several hours later, in his sleep.
16
The twin sisters The twin sisters
To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Thomas Campbell
M
ay and Ivy were twin sisters, not identical, but close in ever other way. They lived in close proximity to each other, their children grew up together and they shared their Christmases and other special days—their bond was inseparable. Yet Ivy passed away some twenty years before May, leaving this world on Mother’s Day. It was a tragic loss for May.
In the following years, May suffered breast cancer, and then a diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease followed. She managed well for quite some time, with a loving husband, supportive daughters and grandchildren, but finally she needed to be hospitalised as the condition had progressively worsened. She needed intensive hospital care as her small-framed body shook from morning until night. The doctor said it was as though the poor woman was racing a marathon every day of her life.
The family made her room as comfortable and as homely as possible, surrounding her with familiar photos, and she was fortunate enough to be able to view a little garden from her window. How long she would be able to sustain her existence was not known, but I strongly suspect the infinite bond between the twin sisters surpassed all barriers of communication, for May passed away, on Mother’s Day, the same day her twin sister had passed away many years before. Twin sisters born with the same birth date died on the same special day.
Is there something greater, beyond our own understanding, that Spirit can manipulate their time of passing? Is there a greater plan, in this case a legacy for those they left behind, that two women who entered this world together would now leave for their children and grandchildren an anniversary date that no-one could forget?
How do you say goodbye to the ones you love? Is there a right or wrong way to be present, not to be present, what to say and what not to say? Maybe some of the following suggestions could be food for thought.
End-of-life rituals
In our society, many people have lost touch with the spiritual aspect of death and dying. It’s a subject that’s usually taboo, but may resurface when someone you love is dying; placing you in a position of contemplating what is needed to make the transition peaceful from this world to the next.
As the Bible says, ‘Ask and ye shall receive’—seek out assistance. Don’t feel you need to shoulder this difficult time by yourself.
There are people and organisations that have been especially trained in Sacred Dying—your hospital chaplain, minister, priest or rabbi may be your first port of call. There are organisations which can help you, such as the Sacred Dying Foundation which has wonderful literature available for downloading from the internet on
www.sacreddying.org
. It may be the starting point to assist opening up dialogue with other family members as to how you are to handle the coming days. Something to consider is a vigil, described below by the Sacred Dying Organisation.
What is vigiling?
Vigiling is primarily concerned with providing spiritual presence for the dying, and can include the act of praying, talking, and/or performing rituals. A vigilier accompanies a person from life to death, while providing whatever is necessary to make the transition peaceful. With Sacred Dying, the end-of-life transition becomes an opportunity to bring reconciliation and acceptance to the dying and their loved ones. In the vigiling process, you may consider incorporating into your daily activities time spent sitting together, talking, listening and, at other times, in shared silence. There may be opportunities to read inspirational texts, or provide healing touch through massage, holding hands or gentle strokes. Setting a comforting mood through ritual can also be considered.
