“Death ends a life, not a relationship.” – Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie.
The traffic lights flickered today in passing. They started on the left side of the road and then jumped across the lanes and continued on the right as I rounded the curve.
Checking in. A friend has recently decided to touch base. She’s deceased. Gone a few years now.
In the middle of a traffic report it happened. A shape started to form in the empty space behind the console, across and in front of me. I felt the room shift and a familiar knowing. Confirmation my long-time friend had died. That event was frustrating because it was in the middle of what I was doing and I could not give any time to the experience to let it unfold further. The apparition dissolved. But that feeling – that presence had made an impact. It was her and she was still real – just not a physical form anymore.
Later, when I had time to focus, I asked if she had a purpose for the visit and any advice for me from her new space – on the other side. I wondered if she would have a different perspective. Her reply threw me. It was very practical. She said, “Don’t rush. It goes by quick enough.”
And an afterthought a few years later. How perfect that advice for a person who reports traffic. Then again, we do know it is more than that.
Just a couple of months before she died, she called and asked if there was anything I needed. I was unaware of her health issue but thought it an odd conversation and replied I was doing fine and couldn’t think of anything to request. She continued in a serious tone, that I didn’t connect until afterward, if I ever did need anything she would have it. I told her I really couldn’t imagine needing anything but that was nice for her to offer.
She died leaving me and all of her closest friends in the dark. And that was intentional.
She let go of all of her attachments to living and – more to the point – didn’t want to feel remorse or guilt about her exit plan. So it was, that after death – she appeared in front of me.
Her shape took form and begin to fill the empty space in an outline of a body – white fuzzy specs – like the snow that used to show up when the TV programming switched off for the night. It was a sign of success. All was well.
In peace and home at last. She conceded that after all those years spent contemplating and planning suicide, when given a fatal diagnosis, she wanted more time and was sorry to see it end. However, her lessons had been completed and loose ends were her trademark.
Very recently, she checked back in to say she is close by and helping me. She asked a question. Why was I avoiding doing -the thing- I was good at?
I said, I guess it has to do with my confidence in my ability.
Her response? Forget confidence. Lead with ability. Many who exhibit total confidence have absolutely no ability.
Me: Wow. Coming from you?
Her: Confidence was an issue for me. So I know a thing or two. Don’t try. Do.
As she communicates that she is here for me, a black cat runs across the street. I laugh. The timing and the symbolism is relevant to both of us.
That is the personality I remember.
This level of engagement is beyond physical nuts and bolts. Vulnerability is part of it. Remaining neutral. Effort is directed to avoid censoring, misreading or projecting the communication. The instruction offered from my guides: When working with the extra-sensory thing, the most important asset is Trust. Do that and help will be there when you need it.
Our interaction now is less pressured. When she was alive, I had to maintain solid boundaries and keep her at a distance. In trying to disengage after a 4 hour phone call the admonition from her was: “Don’t you like me?” Two more hours later… we sign off. Eventually, that evolved to half hour phone calls. She reluctantly endured.
She was entertaining and smart. She knew music. And she loved cats. She also had no problem with my quirky, interactive nightlights and the beings who are part of that. I trusted her to housesit.
It is said one does not become more intelligent by dying but there are some indications that death allows for access to a greater wisdom library and freedom to roam.
I asked how it was going for her now and she tells me she is helping other friends. It seems I am the only one who ‘hears’ her. So – given their special connections in other interests – she plays songs for them to keep them comforted and inspired and sometimes that triggers their memory of her. She likes that.
She tells me she has learned that any time we think of a loved one or a friend who is deceased we are calling to them and they can respond. It isn’t always automatic but it can be an open channel and an ongoing interaction.
I remember my contact with a certain celebrity I interviewed prior to his passing. He showed up in thought form and seemed quite comfortable with the connection. I don’t remember all that transpired but the thing that stuck the conversation was his timing and a noted passion for a coinciding meteor shower.
I looked it up after that conversation and discovered it was referred to in some of the writings about him. I was clueless about that significant element prior to our conversation after his death.
His songs were an influence early in my life and they are coded – the ETs had me play them in combination with a few others during a time when I needed higher guidance and protection. So much of this I haven’t spoken about. I needed to sit with it. It helped that I was instructed at the time to write nothing down. From that point on, my daily diary logs became sporadic and disjointed to avoid a linear progression.
Their explanation was that it would avoid telegraphing my actions. Cogitating and journaling was making that information accessible to those who were – at that point in my life – reading and disrupting with intent to create chaos.
Yes, it does happen. Not everyone who uses telepathy is upfront about their ability. And they don’t all have the intention to use it for the highest good. So be it. The ETs and the guides intervened and the threat was neutralized.
Doesn’t that sound like fiction? Oddly enough (or not), that triggers another memory and a piece of advice from another deceased acquaintance who was a supervisor in one of my radio jobs. He said, “One day you will just know. It will happen like being hit with a brick or a bat across the forehead and it will all be there.” Yikes!
That being said, I prefer a “light bulb” moment.
Signs are all around in dreams and daytime symbols. A gathering of White Owls bedded down alongside Donkeys. Soaring Hawks in strategic locations, bright geometric images flashing in my eyes and street lights blinking on the way to work. Of course, my constant nightlight companion has stayed the course – steady flickering, interacting, engaging.
My thoughts are being read. I was thinking about others I have spoken with after their passing. My friend chimed in, “You should write about that.” So I wrote this as an introduction.
I look at my previous blog posts about her and realize there is more to the story – and I need to share that in a different post before those blogs are gone.
Recently arrived. The new book from Joe McQuillen. We’re Not Done Yet Pop. My Lessons from the Other Side. Amazon.
BTW – I posted more details about my deceased friend who appeared as an apparition, forgetting that is how I referred to her. Interesting note and not a coincidence.
I believe it is a trigger for her to reconnect in this moment to help me position a piece of my puzzle. Her last name is/was Smith. Here is one of my previous posts. Link.