Personal Musings: Reunions and Death

Jeff Mara interviewed author and spiritual mystic Hans Wilhelm on his podcast, and Wilhelm had this to say:

"If you have a wonderful pet [like a] dog...and you love that dog more than anything else, you cannot take that dog to college, even if it would be a comfort dog.  So, no, there is a reason why you suddenly go to college away from the comfort of your family, and suddenly facing all the new life totally on your own.  To grow, we have to be away on our own here, because the path is a path within..."

I think I might have mentioned in a previous post -- when our loved ones leave this world, it's almost like they're "graduating" from this earthly life.  I think of how parents sometimes cry when their children graduate from school, because it's the end of a major life chapter for everyone involved.  And I think of how we cannot join our loved ones after they've died, at least not for a while, anyway.  And it can be really hard.

But I think how I've reunited with friends from school -- some of whom I hadn't been in contact with for many years after graduation.  And when we do meet again, it feels like we "picked up right where we left off,"  in spite of the passage of time.  I wonder if it will feel that way again when we leave this world to join our loved ones who have gone on before us...

Words of Comfort: from the Spirituality Subreddit

I was browsing on the Spirituality subreddit on Reddit some months back.  The poster, who was grieving the loss of her mother from last year, asked about what happens to our souls when we die.  I liked the words from this one commenter in particular:

"I like to think of life here on Earth as an amusement park ride for souls. Your mom's soul was in the car (body) in front of you and the ride ended for her and she's waiting at the exit for you. When the ride ends for you you'll talk and laugh about it and get a churro and figure out what ride to go on next."

Books That Have Helped: Healing After Loss

If you're deep in grief and are having a hard time focusing on anything, including reading for extended periods, there is a book I would highly recommend: Healing After Loss by Martha W. Hickman.  The book was given to me by a dear friend who knew my mom well for many years.  Though Hickman departed this world in 2015 after a prolific writing career, her words continue to resonate with many people, including yours truly. 

The book is divided in 365 meditations, one for each day of the year, each one being no more than three or four short paragraphs.  I have found Hickman's book to offer much comfort and solace in recent times. I especially love some of her words from her October 23rd entry:

"But our life has changed now, with the event of this loss.  Perhaps it is time to take our energy we poured into that relationship....and turn to some new thing....Think of your loved one as blessing your effort, smiling through the veil that separates life from death, cheering you on...."

Articles Worth Reading: Messages in Lorraine Moran's Dreams

Visitations in dreams appear to be one of the most common ways people receive messages from their deceased loved ones. Guideposts has an article about Lorraine Moran, who lost her grandfather to suicide when she was 10 years old.  Several decades later, she lost her 34 year-old nephew Joey, after years of abusing alcohol and other drugs.  She describes in poignant detail about visiting Joey in the hospital during his final days, when he was hooked up to all kinds of medical equipment and could barely communicate.

But what is most remarkable about Lorraine's experiences are the dreams she had in the aftermath of their deaths.  After his suicide, Lorraine describes how her grandfather visited her in three separate dreams, merely saying the word "yes" to her in each one, and being comforted by him. And then there's the account of a dream she had after Joey's passing:

"One night just a few days after Joey passed, I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamt I was hanging up my clothes on my clothing line. My grief continued to weigh down on me as I worked. Then I felt a presence with me. I turned to see Joey. He looked so different. His face was filled out and had its color back. He smiled and his blues eyes were bright and full of life. As he looked at me, he started to laugh his familiar, hearty laugh.  

I was suddenly hit with anger. How could he be laughing right now? Didn’t he see how much pain I was in? But Joey just smiled at me and put a hand on my shoulder. 'Aunt Lorraine, you don’t get it,' he said. A calm slowly settled over my body." 

And what is this "it" that those of us still here on Earth don't get?  I have to wonder....