Good Grief

I’ve missed the last few weeks posting due to an unexpected death in my family. My stepmom, whom I, my sister, and father adored, passed away unexpectedly in her sleep two weeks ago. She was only 64 years old and had had a bout of the flu. My dad found her in the morning as he was waking her up to take her to the doctor.

It’s been a lot to adjust to, even with all of the spiritual work I’ve done and my knowledge that death is not the end of the soul. I still miss her, and my father has understandably been distraught.

When I attended the mediumship training, I did so because of an inner tug to be there. At the time I had not lost someone close to me, as many people in the training had. And then, just a week after finishing the training, my stepmom transitioned. I’m so grateful I followed my inner guidance to go to the class, because I was suddenly using everything I had learned in a very real way.

As I spent time with my family over the week, I reminded my dad and sister that death was not the end of Leslie (whom we called “Ima”). I tried in a gentle way to hold space for my dad’s grief. I helped clear her room energetically, chose clothes for her to wear at her funeral, and ordered and cleaned the house. I imagined that Ima was met by her father, who had already passed, and knew she was in a state of bliss. I felt very connected to her and prayed for her spirit to connect to the light – though I’m not sure she needed that, I did it anyway. I also used my meditations from Suzanne to talk to her and feel sure that I was connecting with her spirit.

It’s still not easy, even if I know it’s not the end. I still want her here with us, in this realm. I wish I had told her how much I loved her and how much she meant to me many more times than I did. I wish I had called her on the phone more. I wish I had sent her cards more. I wish I had visited more. I know the love is always there, and that she knows how much we all loved her, but now that she’s gone, it doesn’t seem like enough.

It’s a reminder to cherish the people in our lives, because we never know how long they’ll be here. Thank you for all you shared with us, Ima. Thank you for all you are. I love you.