Being Lovingly Present
I had the privilege of being with my mother
when she transitioned
out of her body.
It was the most magical, mystical, and amazing process. She and
I had worked on spiritual principles for many years - mostly
inspired by my father's death 12 years earlier. She was ready
to release her body, with all of its pain and cancerous decay.
She saw her body as a limitation, no longer serving her after
62 years of working hard. We agreed that her little body had
been holding onto rage.
Her fear made manifested as
cancer. Now she was exhausted physically,
mentally, and
emotionally.
We trusted that her Totality was unlimited and eternal.
She was most anxious to return to this.
We spoke at great lengths over the last days
of her life. She asked many questions. I shared my feelings,
thoughts, and beliefs with her. She took comfort in them.
"When can I go. Why do I have to wait?"
These innocent questions touched my heart.
"I don't know, Mama. You seem ready. You can surrender
and release any time now."
"All who have loved you will be there waiting with open
arms for you, Mama. Excited to see you, they'll help you to remember
how it works on the other side."
"No more pain, huh?"
"No more pain, Mama."
"This body is so heavy, it drags me down, holds me back,"
she'd murmur.
I'd look at the tiny, frail 87 pound body before me. I recall
her weightlessness as I carried her in my arms to the bath. How
delicate she seemed, how fragile.
"You don't need it any more. Let it go, Mama. Once you leave
your body behind, you'll know the truth
about all the experiences you created for yourself here on Earth.
What
was REALLY going on will be revealed. Then you can choose
what you want to do next. Where, when, and how you can have the
best experiences to grow and awaken. You'll script a whole new
lifetime for yourself once you've reviewed and learned all that
you can from this one."
"I feel like I've failed so badly. I've done so little here.
I've contributed nothing. All I'm truly proud of is bringing
up you. I've wasted my life with so much unhappiness."
Sometimes, as I observed my mother, I'd notice her focus would
go in and out. I would watch her eyes, so blue and clear. She
would look right at me as though seeing deeply into me. Then
her gaze would wander to a point beside me or behind me. She
would watch something or someone not visible to me at all. I
believe spirit beings
were there.
I especially loved holding my mother in my
arms, stroking her face and hair, singing softly to her, or reading
to her from the various books we'd collected on death
and dying. As my Mama would lay her face on my chest, she seemed
so child-like. I would feel surges of compassion for her well
up inside me. Now she seemed more peaceful
and content. I couldn't help but feel amazed at the reversal
of roles. Me holding her, feeding, bathing, and diapering her
- just as she had done for me as an infant. How I felt her admiration,
trust, and belief in me. How good she could make me feel about
myself.
Once more speaking softly, I encouraged her to release. "You've
been a wonderful mother. I love you so. I'm so grateful we had
Soul Agreements
to come together again this lifetime. You've taught me so much.
Now you can rest. You've completed what you came to do."
"See the Light. Allow it to absorb you. Move into the Light,
Mama. Feel its' warmth, the Love
it holds for you
"
I talked on and on until I heard her breath deepen and slow.
"Can we try again? I do want to go. Help me, please."
I sat behind her, straddling Mama's body with my legs, her head
against my chest. I stroked her forehead.
I began talking her through the thin veils, which seem to hang
between the form and
the formless.
I encouraged her with soothing words. I gave her my permission
and my blessing to assist her in making passage.
"You can let go anytime. Please, Mama, go now."
At that moment,
the tiny body in my arms quivered. She sighed. Her mouth was
open as she exhaled one last time. I held my breath waiting for
her next inhale. It never came. My hand on her heart could feel
it continue to beat. But as I waited, the beating slowed down,
and stopped. My mother was pure spirit now. The limp, lifeless
body was no longer carrying her Soul.
Beautifully, gently, she made the transition.
What a blessing for me to have been there for the miracle.
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