Better Late Than Never

He had heard about me from my hairdresser. So he became my friend on a social media site. That was it. He never sent me a message or contacted me. I think he wanted to. He never did.  Actually I sent him one. As soon as I saw his picture, his old partner came through and he wanted me to contact him because he had something to say.

So I did

If I contact someone it is to deliver a message from spirit. This spirit was his former partner who took his life. He had to get his message known. So I persisted and we agreed to meet. I am sure when a medium contacts you, there might be hesitation to find out what they want to tell you. He was very open to it which made the process better. I somehow ended up in the wrong location and spirit was there hanging onto my shoulder the entire way, nervous that his ex partner was about to show up. Eventually I made it to the right location. It was a very eclectic, diverse and very popular place on a weekends. It was the first time I saw a cat in a stroller and loving it. Usually you see a smaller dog being pushed in a baby stroller, certainly not a cat.

You might ask, well, if the living have grief, and gotten over it, maybe the dead can too. Even if the living human has gone through the grieving process and forgiven the suicide victim, it is not over for the suicide victim themselves. They are still trying to come to terms with what they did, why they did it and to find closure, most want to say they are sorry, the biggest word is sorry. Some dont want to let go, others will remain in a grey area because they can’t forgive themselves but most are in the light upon death. They don’t go to hell unless they are extremely bad people in life. He was still around, still hanging around.

So we three sat down, me and two men. One was the new partner. Of course spirit was not happy that he was there but he knew he was dead and couldn’t do anything about it and just wanted his old partner happy. He just wanted happiness for him. I told him I was shown pills and a rope. This was how the suicide victim took his own life.

Burial plans were discussed and I suggested that they follow his wishes. Keeping his remains was not an option but perhaps granting what he wanted with maybe a second option to appease the living was the answer.

All in all, the suicide victim was happy in that he could now move on, and go into the light knowing that he said what he wanted to say, and that was a simple but heart felt sorry and to grant forgiveness and receive it. Better late than never I say.

 

 

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Three Escorts

He saw angels standing at his window sill in the hospital room. Large angels that were waiting on him. The fragile hairless man who stood up was ravaged by the disease that had him. Yet, he jumped out of bed to see his companions who would, along with his father escort him to the otherside. He had never seen an angel before, there were three waiting on him, their wings outstretched, all in white gowns, with crowns of gold on their heads were waiting for one of their beloved souls to cross. He asked if I saw them. I had to see them! They were so beautiful!

A few hours later, this fragile man was comatose muttering in his sleep, “How are you going to take me home? Yes, I want to go home. How are we going to get there? Piggy back?” then he laughed.
I knew he was talking to his father, my Granddaddy, who was present in the room, ready to retrieve his son. He had died about 12 years earlier of a different form of the disease that had my father.
I stepped out after that to refresh myself and left the hospital grounds for a while. Suddenly upon walking through the parking garage tunnel that led to the hospital, I knew he was going. I innately knew my father was not to live much longer. A voice whispered to me, hurry, just hurry. Running to meet death, I had to tell him goodbye.
Holding his hand while his breaths were shallow, strained and heavy, gargled by the mucous in his chest. I asked him to check on me from time to time, and to tell God and Jesus I said hello, that I loved him dearly. I always would.

Not yet fully able to come to grips with his death which was so imminent, I held back what I really wanted to say and that was to say how lucky I was to have him as a loving father, one who stood by me all those years and who only wanted the best for me. No girl could have been as lucky as me.

He squeezed my hand. In that moment, I knew he could hear me. He knew. There is life in a comatose state before we pass. Thank God he knew how much I loved him.

With all the family around, he arose from his coma to ask what was happening with his body. My sister, a physician, had to tell him, “Daddy, you are in the hospital.  He asked, “why?”
“Because Daddy, you are dying of lung cancer.”
He nodded as though he understood, being a doctor himself. He then said he loved everyone very much and laid back down, his head upon the soft pillow and stopped breathing.