Posts tagged circle of light

Standing in for God

For the last several weeks, as I began to realize I was nearing the concluding chapters of this book, I ran into what would normally be called a “writer’s block.” I thought about what I would write, I consulted my therapist on what I would write, I gathered comments from readers, and I worked on it in my Consciousness Health and Healing class. I certainly had gathered enough material to write. But alas, I continued to tinker around with, well, it was all important content, but still it wasn’t the ending content.

After weeks of pondering, feeling guilty and looking at the calendar seeing that time was running out on my self-imposed June first draft submission date, today it dawned on me that there might be something that needs to be cleared or discovered before I could launch into finishing this wildly revealing account in a life, in our life.

OK, a little history—in my last therapy session, even though together we have moved mountains (or healed nerve pathways at least), we still hadn’t touched upon what I experienced as blocks in my pelvic area. I was still devoid of sensation from the heart chakra down when my therapist would ask where in my body I felt such-and-such. So she suggested that this week I might put my hands on my belly, imagining it was Kenny with his powerful healing touch, much like he did in life when he put his hand on my chest or would hold me in silent embrace.

Today I opened the journal where I write to Kenny and he writes back through my hand. I asked: “Kenny, can you help me get started writing about myself to conclude the book?”

He said: “Remember my hand on your abdomen! Do it now, my sweetie.”

Dutifully I did what he said. I put both kind of chilled hands on my belly and waited until they warmed up. Then I put one hand on my chest with the other still on my belly. I heard Kenny say: “Now I AM standing in for God.”

I burst into sobs of gratitude for the synergy, for the all-encompassing love, for the listening and the sharing. For experiencing myself as connected through all the realms of Light right up into the God Source, through my darling Spirit of Kenny. How I am becoming in my own eyes, a Divine Being having a human experience. All this through his healing hands. You see, the consciousness doesn’t care if an image is taking place in the physical or the imagination. One way or another it reaches in to experience it fully. Amazing!

As I was thanking Kenny for this deep connection, I again heard him say (and the hearing is really intuiting through writing), “Carol dear, my heroine there on earth, sometimes thick and hard to reach, but when I finally get through you always open your heart to me in the most innocent ways. Have I told you lately your tears are so endearing to me. Come, my Sweetie, rest in my arms where we are one with God the Comforter. And in that I began to write this chapter.

I had dinner with my dear friend, Georgea, a few days ago and I recounted the phrase, “Standing in for God.” I first heard it coined by Diana, MSIA minister and Circle of Light visitor during Kenny’s last days. I wrote about it in previous chapters. I was so moved by her description of sitting in our room holding the Spiritual Light that night Kenny woke me up in the middle of the night to say goodbye. He wouldn’t pass until at least a week later, but Diana held and held throughout the night until dawn when she needed to leave for work. Georgea suggested what a wonderful title for a book or a chapter in this book. I thought, yes, but I’d already written about it at least a couple of times. Little did I know it would blossom into this chapter, while Kenny stands in for God 24/7 now, probably not just for me but for whomever he agreed to watch over. His family, his friends who resonated with his passions, the flora and fauna here at MSIA headquarters, and wherever he is assigned.

How does this chapter draw me closer to finishing the book? How about being my own awestruck witness to the myriad ways grief emerges and submerges. Let’s go there for a moment.

Grief struck early, before the diagnosis when Kenny uttered that telling phrase, “Maybe I should just kill myself.”

Then as his illness progressed, it permeated every day, underneath the daily activity of his treatment regimen. Underneath my unwillingness to face what he knew way before I knew.

Then finally “agreeing” by default that hospice was the best choice.

Through those first months when I felt like I would never fill the hole left by Kenny’s passing from this world.

Through many months of moving in and out, up and down, sadness, gratitude, and some feelings of joy as I anticipate the future, and especially as I review the opportunities for growth and upliftment that I have been given through who we both are in Spirit—magnificent Divine Beings having agreed to love each other throughout eternity. Having loosened the shackles of karma, the purity of Divine Love with absolutely no karmic ties left in the hard realms of the physical, emotional, mental levels is at hand. What reigns supreme are gratitude and wonder, love and acceptance. And with all that comes a deeper understanding of my own process of awakening than I’ve ever experienced before.

I am blessed. I am loved. I experience peace in the stillness.

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Sacred Crossings: The Night Kenny Left his Body for the Last Time

In earlier chapters, I described what I dared put to paper about the night Kenny died. Today, 20-some months later, a bit of training as a hospice volunteer, and having witnessed the death of another loved one in my life, I can brave more recall, more important parts that may be valuable to you as the reader, that are certainly more available to my creative hand.

I didn’t know then that I could give him some comfort by closing his eyes during those last few hours of labored breathing when he couldn’t communicate. I didn’t realize I could continue to moisten his mouth. The hospice nurse left in kind of a hurry with no such instructions for me. I didn’t know they would leave us at such an auspicious moment.

So when Kenny took his final breath, his eyes were wide open as well as his mouth. I tried to close his eyes, but they flipped back open twice. Those incredible deep blue eyes that I so often sank into for love and comfort. That I so often admired and could see into his vulnerability, his true loving and his powerful oneness with God.

While I could cover his body and arms with the sheet, I couldn’t cover his face and I also couldn’t look at it after my attempt to close his eyes. It was too haunting to me—At that time I’d rather have remembered his eyes when they inhabited his Soul, his life here on earth.

So his body lay there while some friends gathered with me in the room. We called the mortuary, because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. They were to come in a few hours. In the meantime, we told stories, laughed and cried and waited. And everyone present, of course, took my lead and didn’t look at Kenny’s body either.

Aside from those haunting memories, I do remember something really important:

Soon John-Roger had his aide, Zeus call to ask where “the body was being taken.” I told him which mortuary and that was the end of the conversation.

Just a few days ago, Kevin and I were looking at photographs of Kenny as a young man and I found myself recounting that phone call. In a burst of recognition, as Kevin held my hand and stayed with me in his empathy and love, I went from laughing at the photo of Kenny doing some funny antic, to tears of understanding and gratitude. I realized once again how blessed we are to be under the protection of the Mystical Traveler Consciousness, that part of us that guides our way back to the Heart of God. For I knew that John-Roger’s call was about checking in on Ken’s body to see if his Soul was on its way to the proper dimension in Spirit—to help it along if needed. So many times in years gone by when J-R was counseling MSIA students in the presence of many of us, and the subject of a loved one having already passed over came up, I would hear J-R say, “I’ve got him (or her). He’s OK. He’s where he should be.” And as I listened, I would well up with tears of gratitude, and I sensed so many others witnessing the counseling, did the same. Thank God the Traveler chose us. Thank God we chose back. Thank God our loved ones, even if they are not actively studying in MSIA, just by being connected to us devotees, are protected as ones of his own.

Back to what I didn’t know, but know better now: I could have closed his eyes so they would stay moist and more comfortable. And after he passed, if they were open again, I could have laid a clean cloth over them to help them stay closed. And I could have rolled a towel under his chin to help his mouth stay closed. I could have done a lot of things to honor his body, the Temple of his Soul, for as long as three days if I wanted to (legally). I didn’t know this. I actually kept a lot of information away from myself because I didn’t want to face his dying. For as long as he was alive, even as he got weaker and weaker, day by day, in my mind he was not dying. He would not be dying until he actually took his last breath. So I didn’t ask, I didn’t read much, and what I did read I forgot immediately. The only bit of compassionate education from the particular hospice agency we were assigned came from the doctor who one night only a few days before Kenny passed, told me I could stop counting liquids in and liquids out. That I should just focus on being with Kenny. Thankfully there was that much.

Only later when I was with my cousins supporting them as Cousin Nicky was passing, did I begin to get some education that mattered from the Hospice agency assigned to them. They instructed on meds, on bathing and changing, on when it was time to say our last goodbyes and so much more. Their loving, compassionate manner made all the difference. Their loving, compassionate manner gave me a measure of what was missing from the agency assigned to Kenny and me. Thankfully we had our MSIA ministers, our Circle of Light, our incredibly service-minded housemates. We were blessed beyond measure. Remember my talking about Circle of Light minister, Diana? She recounted her experience with us as “standing in for God.” And that’s how I experienced my presence at Nicky’s side.

I am blessed to be in a position to help others, having experienced the death of my husband in such a complex way. And to have the gift of awareness that allows me to grow from the experience, to awaken the parts of me that were afraid and unwilling to see. In tenderness for the lost part of me that I am gradually finding and surrounding with love, compassion, and forgiveness.

So now in my memories, whenever I may picture those last hours of Kenny’s life, I also remember the long moment just days before he passed, when he took my face in his hands, and held his gaze on my eyes in silent communion for a very long time. The world stood waiting outside our little bubble—it could have waited forever as I soaked in the loving we shared. It shall always remain a Divine Soul-to-Soul moment when time stood still, when nothing else mattered, when his death was imminent but yet so far away.

Bringing compassionate awareness to end of life issues is one of my passions now. Thus this blog and thus the compilation of the book. Wish me well! And I send my love to all of you who over the months have devotedly supported my efforts to bring myself into a greater Light focus around death and to bring this subject, however raw the accounts, to the Light of Spirit.

P.S. Today I attended a volunteer meeting of Hospice Partners of Southern California. A woman named Olivia did a presentation on “Sacred Crossings.” She calls herself a Death Midwife and helps families create a sacred experience for themselves of caring for a loved one’s body after death. I don’t necessarily advocate her business or her methods, but the subject is certainly worth exploring ahead of time so families can make educated decisions about the disposition of their loved ones’ remains.

Please do “like” this article, make a comment, share your experiences, however you are moved to do so. Or write to me directly at carol.jones43@yahoo.com. Baruch Bashan. The blessings already are!

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We were Counting Breaths ’til the Last One

It was the night Kenny took his last breath. My Circle of Light fellow ministers were standing by, both in our bedroom and in the hallway, silently meditating and ushering in Kenny’s passing. Each in our own way knew the moment was near.

It started early in the evening, his labored breathing. I gave him some morphine and sat him up in bed a little to help him breathe better, but this didn’t help much. He wasn’t able to talk by this time so I thought he had become unresponsive. I called hospice and they told me to administer more morphine to calm his breathing and that they would send a nurse by to check on him. The nurse arrived and told me the time was near and that his labored breathing was part of the process. In my limited understanding, I asked again if he should be so uncomfortable, and the nurse, sensing my alarm, relented and told me to give him more morphine and another kind of sedative to calm him down.

Kenny spit the sedative out and I dutifully put it back in his mouth. He gestured and moaned at this point, and I thought he was incoherent and agitated, which can happen according to what I had read. So without questioning or even thinking much, I gave him the morphine anyway, hoping it would calm him. He bit down on the dropper and again I just thought he was incoherent.

We both hushed a bit and fell asleep for a little while, and our Circle of Light ministers were meditating silently.

At some point, just as was predicted, I was called awake. I had been holding Kenny’s hand and then I put my other arm around his shoulders, came very close, and told him how much I loved him and it was OK to let go and to go with the Traveler. In just a few seconds, he breathed his last breath.

I think I wrote about this most precious moment in a previous post, but now I have much more understanding about who it was in me that couldn’t let my husband die the way he would have liked to go, for it is obvious to me now, after replaying this scene in my mind nearly every day,  that all his gesturing and moaning and refusing medication was meant to say please leave him alone in this  his last moments on earth—to let him breathe his last breath consciously. Yet in those moments of panic, I reacted out of a place within myself that wanted him to be comfortable. Nice thought, but not on the right page. Why not? Reacting out of limited mindset instead of responding to the signals that were present.

This scene has played itself out in my memories over and over with no resolution, only a very painful example of my own shortcomings, my lack of awareness, my shortsighted, made-up mindset about what his death should look like. I know—that’s a harsh description of my own limitations and to this day I regret not asking him what he would have liked as he was dying. I had no clue that it would even be possible to ask and he had no clue to offer what he would have liked either.

Perfectly matched in our fears of losing each other. This was definitely a characteristic of our relationship, now it’s obvious as I look back over the years of his acting out in fear and my reacting in fear. There’s plenty more to say about the patterns that have been revealed to me since Kenny died, but not for this post.

The most important message in this post is what I heard Kenny say today: he told me “You gave me so much even though you don’t think so—that the least I could do was give you a moment of peace before I left. That was the only thing I could give you, my Darling One.”

Having heard this precious communication today, I was finally somewhat relieved of my burden and ready to write this post. So there’s not so much blame and self-judgment left, and much more gratitude for the precious moments I experienced of Kenny’s appreciation and love toward me. I cried my eyes out as I opened myself to receive his love–nine months later. Better now than never!

And just like he said would happen, our relationship grows deeper, more loving and more intimate as I seek to reach up into the high realms to meet his Soul there. The same skills, discipline, love and letting go are required of me as those needed to experience my own Soul. Imagine our radiant forms, vibrating light, radiating love, compassion, oneness, understanding, and acceptance—the most precious attributes of the Soul and of any relationship. Breathe in Kenny’s loving. Breathe out my loving to him. That’s a very peaceful and compassionate exercise. A beautiful way to reach up.

So if you (when you) hold for a loved one who is dying, ask them all the questions you can think of that would help make their experience the best it can be–what they want it to be. I did the best I could with what I had–and you will too. But more on that later.

I invite you to share your experiences in the comments field of this blog, ask me questions, make comments, share this blog with anyone who could benefit from our writings. Contact me by email if you wish at carol.jones43@yahoo.com. The blessings already are!

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