One of my cousins transitioned two days ago. She was 43 years old. She was sick since she was born. Truth be told, she was a firecracker. Her hair was dyed bright red for decades. We all knew her as a firecracker. When I heard the news, it hit me like a cold glass of water thrown in my face. Even though we hadn’t spoken for a while, and we were expecting her departure, the awareness of it sat in me deeply.
I have always thought of death as going from one door into another. I experienced it more than once through near-death experiences. I feel and believe she’s now in a place of peace and love. This doesn’t diminish the loss and sorrow. The grief will continue to reside for however long it needs to. We exist with an expiration date that only God knows. Every second here is on borrowed time.
As I was gathering my feelings early in the morning, trying to get kids dressed for school, I read an email from a dear friend about her son being in the hospital, also ready to departure this world. He and I spoke often. We talked about the esoteric world, shared experiences, and just had massive belly laughs. Sometimes through texts we could spend hours exploring the metaphysical world. We would joke about playing on the outer realms and dancing at night. He is very magical on so many levels.
The kicker for me was that my cousin and him were born two days apart in February on the same year. I spent the morning in the ICU visiting him yesterday. I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. His answer took me aback, “Yes, but you won’t like it.”
Our thoughts merged together at that moment. We can always read each other’s thoughts. I knew he wanted me to help him find peace.
He is tired. And seeing him in that condition, his organs shutting down, I was beyond exhausted. He was in and out of consciousness. I held his hand and did energy work on him.
Letting some go is inexplicable hard shit! He can see the spirit world as clearly as I can. And he kept pointing to those in front of his bed. I smiled and told him I knew. He knows they are flight attendants there to take him.
Death is the ending of one journey and the beginning of another. It is hard for those we leave behind. The fear, for the most part, is leaving loved ones. The other hesitation is not knowing where you go afterwards.
If you are losing someone, or lost someone recently, I am holding you tightly. These times seem to be grabbing on to so many who can’t deal with the intensity of the energies. Plus, when it is your time there is no stopping it.
I spent time sharing the news about our cousin with my older children who loved her. Each conversation kept fracturing my heart. They grew up with all her mischievous pranks. I know she is finally smiling from heaven and dancing the angel’s salsa and meringue.
I love you. Prayers to you and yours.