The arms of surrender are the only thing that will hold you. We don’t want to see this and we can’t see it until we have no other options left.
Towards the end of Bob’s life, I faced total burnout. I was not with him when he died. That destiny belonged to my beloved sister and not to me. Thank God for that. I didn’t want to see him take his last breath.
Often the things we fear the most are where we strike gold. I feared letting go. Yet when I did let go, due to fatigue and heartbreak, it was then that the angel came. The black woman working at the Marriott Courtyard that served us our Christmas Eve dinner from her own house. She carried it to the Marriott and served my son, sister and cousin and I the most celestial meal I have ever eaten. We broke bread with an angel whose name happened to be Mary (really!)
Bob lay in the cemetery in his newly-dug grave. My friend John said he rose straight into the white light. I believe that. Last night I dreamt of John Wayne, standing barefoot in a suit. He said to me, “You will be reunited with Bob.” And I woke up.
One day I will wake up for good, but only after the death of the body/mind illusion. We are all playing hurt. Most deny it in order to fool themselves into thinking they are good people doing the right thing. Could this be wrong?
Vicki Woodyard
Once again, this brings to mind my experience. When my beloved Dad was in the hospital dying, I had thought the whole time that I was too afraid to be there at the end. I spent as much time as I could with him as he visibly weakened. I was there as he gently fell into a deep sleep. I knew instinctively that he would not wake up again, and my feelings of deep love overcame the fear and I could not be torn from his side; I could not let go of his now delicate hand. The tears and sorrow that poured out of me were a hair’s breadth from pure love. An intensely beautiful experience that changed my view of life and death. An experience that left me grateful for life. I felt my Dad literally with me for the next couple of days as the shitstorm of dealing with the dysfunction of certain parts of my family swirled around. I knew that love was real and forever.
Thank you again for sharing Vicki.
Beautiful, Annie. Thank you.