Letting Go by Bandico Source |
Friday, April 10, 2015
I got up this morning and did my favorite thing – cleaned
my apartment.
Amanda phoned me at around one to say that it had moved
from "any hour now" to "any minute now."
I changed from grungy clothes and drove to Antoinette's
house, missing the exit. Dissociative state. Made an illegal U-turn.
Antoinette was still doing the labored breathing she
began yesterday afternoon.
Many people were in Antoinette's room, some of whom I
have met before, some of whom I was meeting for the first time, some of whom I
feel comfortable around, some of whom I feel less comfortable around.
A priest came. We locked hands and prayed the Lord's Prayer.
When that was finished, before we could break the circle, I loudly announced
that I had forgiven Antoinette everything, and that everyone else present had also
forgiven Antoinette for everything. No one gave me any lip.
Antoinette's daughters stepped out of the room to look at
a dress.
I was settling in in the corner, about to open up my
computer and kill time. I looked at my sister's face, though, and something
told me, "This is it." I moved closer to her and began stroking the
soles of her feet. I had done that earlier and she said that she liked it.
One of the people I feel less comfortable around and I
were left in the room with Antoinette.
This person around whom I feel less comfortable
challenged me, "Maybe she's holding on because she thinks that we have not
given her permission to let go. Have *you* given her permission to get go? Have
her children given her permission to let go? Should we get them in here and
have them give Antoinette permission to let go? You're her sister! CAN YOU JUST
TELL HER TO LET GO???"
Well, even if someone is someone you feel edgy around,
that doesn't mean that the person doesn't have something wise and helpful to
say.
I believe in telepathy, especially between my sister and
me.
Several years back I was visiting some friends of hers
down the shore. They had a dog. At that event, too, the house was full of
people, many of whom I did not know, but I know I love dogs, so I grabbed the
dog and took him for a walk. He was a boxer.
I thought, heck, a boxer, a strong dog, I can take him
for a serious walk.
Not so. I don't think we had gone a mile when he collapsed
on the road from exhaustion.
I sent Antoinette the message telepathically. Antoinette,
the dog collapsed, I'm on such and such a street, come get him and me.
And she did.
So, I was watching her breath, and stroking the soles of
her feet, and thinking, what could I say to Antoinette, telepathically, because
she doesn't appear to be conscious and her hearing was not that good, that
would make her let go?
I knew that "let go" was not the message she
would heed. Antoinette was always in charge. So I said, "Antoinette, there
are people you can boss around in heaven."
I continued to watch her breaths.
And.
They.
Stopped.
I motioned to the other person in the room, the one
around whom I am less than comfortable, to bring in Antoinette's kids, and she
gave me a hard time!
"She may start breathing again," she actually
said.
Yeah, no, I don't think so.
But, eventually this difficult person got up, and gestured
for the kids to come in, and they cried.
Scruffy, the rescue dog that Antoinette saved from death
by parasites and pneumonia, had been glued to Antoinette. He licked her
extensively after she passed.
I am glad you both shared the last moments of her life. No doubt that gave her comfort and hope like you do to us. And no doubt your telephathy will continue.
ReplyDeleteGordon, thank you for reading and responding, as ever.
DeletePlease accept my sincere condolences on the passing of your sister. May she rest in peace and may eternal light shine upon her.
ReplyDeleteLukasz, dziekuje serdecznie.
Delete