Wow this year has really been intense, as my life as I’ve known it has been completely unraveled, completely changed, and I, with it.
It started with my mother dying, of Covid, in April, when the pandemic had begun. I spoke with her on Friday, and she had turned a fast corner, and passed on Monday.
When I last saw her in person, she was living at her own home, which I knew was about to change.
I remember saying goodbye to the house, the memories, the chachkis, the old linoleum, the way she had her kitchen table set, her fishpond, the trees, the plants, the stories, oh the many stories, and the love.
I gathered as much love as I could, in my pockets, and gave back to the earth, my gratitude.
At that point, my ancestors were waiting, patiently “for Louise”.
After she passed, I held space for her, energetically, and watched her, as she took her slow journey back home.
I didn’t know then, that my own partner, of 20 years would pass suddenly 5 months later, of cancer.
It all happened so fast, and it was all so very intense. My only job was to care for him, with as much love, and consciousness, and spirit as I could.
It was three weeks, from when we found out, until when he succumbed to his cancer.
What a journey. My friends, and his friends, and all our family held him, held us both in love, and light, and spirit, and that made all the difference in the world.
All of my psychic and shamanic colleagues did also. It was like an amazing net of light, around us both.
Of course it was painful, and scary, for us both, and I did my best to make sure that Terry wasn’t in pain, and felt truly loved the entire time.
I think he felt that.
In three short weeks, we said our goodbyes, and I had to handle so many things, on so many levels, so that his transition was smooth, and righteous, and good.
I think that was accomplished. His family came to visit on a Friday, and he passed the next morning.
I had never been so close to cancer. I had never been so close to death. I spoke with these two beings at great length, until the end, and beyond the end.
I learned so much, about love, and about presence, and about keeping it real (I was playing powerful, spiritual music for his passing, as he was in hospice at home, with me. Then I realized that he doesn’t like my “new age” music, and would be better with his favorite jazz tunes, his John Coltrane, and Dave Brubeck, and Miles Davis.
That was a better send off for him.
I was lucky to be psychic enough to witness the energy around his passing, and afterwards, on his next journey, his next steps, and I am very grateful for him allowing me to witness that.
There was so much love around him the whole time.
Funny, that I finished my teachers program at that time, and the last course, was on Death, and Dying.
I had to be witness, and feel all of that, to help me to be a better teacher, a better wife, friend, and a better human.
I learned and grew, also, by giving up control, and allowing others to care for me, to give to me, and to let myself fall apart, and grieve.
Martin Prechtel is right, in so many ways, that Grief comes from the same muscle as praise, as love. That it is a community thing, not only a silent, alone thing.
Because of Covid, there was no funeral, but there was a Zoom gathering, which really helped with closure, and a place for people to gather, and tell stories, and say goodbye.
It started with my mother dying, of Covid, in April, when the pandemic had begun. I spoke with her on Friday, and she had turned a fast corner, and passed on Monday.
When I last saw her in person, she was living at her own home, which I knew was about to change.
I remember saying goodbye to the house, the memories, the chachkis, the old linoleum, the way she had her kitchen table set, her fishpond, the trees, the plants, the stories, oh the many stories, and the love.
I gathered as much love as I could, in my pockets, and gave back to the earth, my gratitude.
At that point, my ancestors were waiting, patiently “for Louise”.
After she passed, I held space for her, energetically, and watched her, as she took her slow journey back home.
I didn’t know then, that my own partner, of 20 years would pass suddenly 5 months later, of cancer.
It all happened so fast, and it was all so very intense. My only job was to care for him, with as much love, and consciousness, and spirit as I could.
It was three weeks, from when we found out, until when he succumbed to his cancer.
What a journey. My friends, and his friends, and all our family held him, held us both in love, and light, and spirit, and that made all the difference in the world.
All of my psychic and shamanic colleagues did also. It was like an amazing net of light, around us both.
Of course it was painful, and scary, for us both, and I did my best to make sure that Terry wasn’t in pain, and felt truly loved the entire time.
I think he felt that.
In three short weeks, we said our goodbyes, and I had to handle so many things, on so many levels, so that his transition was smooth, and righteous, and good.
I think that was accomplished. His family came to visit on a Friday, and he passed the next morning.
I had never been so close to cancer. I had never been so close to death. I spoke with these two beings at great length, until the end, and beyond the end.
I learned so much, about love, and about presence, and about keeping it real (I was playing powerful, spiritual music for his passing, as he was in hospice at home, with me. Then I realized that he doesn’t like my “new age” music, and would be better with his favorite jazz tunes, his John Coltrane, and Dave Brubeck, and Miles Davis.
That was a better send off for him.
I was lucky to be psychic enough to witness the energy around his passing, and afterwards, on his next journey, his next steps, and I am very grateful for him allowing me to witness that.
There was so much love around him the whole time.
Funny, that I finished my teachers program at that time, and the last course, was on Death, and Dying.
I had to be witness, and feel all of that, to help me to be a better teacher, a better wife, friend, and a better human.
I learned and grew, also, by giving up control, and allowing others to care for me, to give to me, and to let myself fall apart, and grieve.
Martin Prechtel is right, in so many ways, that Grief comes from the same muscle as praise, as love. That it is a community thing, not only a silent, alone thing.
Because of Covid, there was no funeral, but there was a Zoom gathering, which really helped with closure, and a place for people to gather, and tell stories, and say goodbye.
After his ashes came back, we gathered at the rocky beach, about an hour away, in the small town of Pescadero. It was a place we loved to go and pick rocks that were worn completely smooth by the rough surf, into beautiful shapes. He chose that spot, and we did a simple, powerful ceremony there, and everyone took a handful of Terry, and let him go, and become the ocean, and the mist, and the rocks.
Some of him, I sprinkled onto an open sea anemone, in a tide pool, that we would have loved to explore together.
I still feel him around, helping, and protecting, and providing, but basically, he is on his way to his next adventure.
I am completely changed.
Filled with both sadness, loss and grief, and a sense that a huge part of me is gone, and also, a strange sense of completion, in that emptiness, as if, like it or not, the next chapter of my life is already in motion.
This has all (of course) brought my own mortality into the front burner. With the work that I do, that is not a problem, but I also know that luck favors the prepared.
As time marches on, I am curious to see who will emerge from this.
Who will I become? Am I already that, and just taking off one more jacket, one more layer?
I am so grateful, to be held in so much love. That makes all the difference.
I have just been witness to such extraordinary things. I am grateful that Terry died without pain, and surrounded by love.
After everyone came for the ocean “send off”, and then left (the house, my space) I was able to settle into aloneness, in a big house.
Then I got Covid, and spent 2 weeks in bed with the flu.
It was almost funny (aside from the uncomfortableness of it all) because I really needed to purge, to completely take care of myself, and, perhaps, just sleep, and sleep, and heal myself.
And that I did.
And, again, friends came to the rescue, delivering soups, and medicine, and flowers and cards… forcing me to see how supported I am.
So now (3 weeks later) I am well, and feeling better every day.
i’m seeing clients again (thank you to everyone who waited!) and slowly getting back into the world. It was only a few months, but it feels like an entire year has just gone by, perhaps more.
I have definitely grown from this, and will grow more as I settle into the next chapter of my life. All of it.
Thank you for being a friend, a colleague, a client, and a part of my amazing journey, our amazing journey.
As Ram Dass said, “We are all just walking each other home”.
Bright moments,
Helena
Some of him, I sprinkled onto an open sea anemone, in a tide pool, that we would have loved to explore together.
I still feel him around, helping, and protecting, and providing, but basically, he is on his way to his next adventure.
I am completely changed.
Filled with both sadness, loss and grief, and a sense that a huge part of me is gone, and also, a strange sense of completion, in that emptiness, as if, like it or not, the next chapter of my life is already in motion.
This has all (of course) brought my own mortality into the front burner. With the work that I do, that is not a problem, but I also know that luck favors the prepared.
As time marches on, I am curious to see who will emerge from this.
Who will I become? Am I already that, and just taking off one more jacket, one more layer?
I am so grateful, to be held in so much love. That makes all the difference.
I have just been witness to such extraordinary things. I am grateful that Terry died without pain, and surrounded by love.
After everyone came for the ocean “send off”, and then left (the house, my space) I was able to settle into aloneness, in a big house.
Then I got Covid, and spent 2 weeks in bed with the flu.
It was almost funny (aside from the uncomfortableness of it all) because I really needed to purge, to completely take care of myself, and, perhaps, just sleep, and sleep, and heal myself.
And that I did.
And, again, friends came to the rescue, delivering soups, and medicine, and flowers and cards… forcing me to see how supported I am.
So now (3 weeks later) I am well, and feeling better every day.
i’m seeing clients again (thank you to everyone who waited!) and slowly getting back into the world. It was only a few months, but it feels like an entire year has just gone by, perhaps more.
I have definitely grown from this, and will grow more as I settle into the next chapter of my life. All of it.
Thank you for being a friend, a colleague, a client, and a part of my amazing journey, our amazing journey.
As Ram Dass said, “We are all just walking each other home”.
Bright moments,
Helena
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