A GOOD DEATH
Grandma raised me as a mother would. My mom was her oldest of four children & I was like her youngest child, a number five if she'd had one.
The eve before grandmas’ death, I had a spirit visitation while wide awake and reading. I'd actually just returned from her house and tucked myself in to bed, yet no sooner had I settled in when a group of souls entered my bedroom.
They flew mid air, and paused above the right side of my head. My body instantly responded to their presence, my heart sped up and my skin tingled all down my spine.
These souls were members of my deceased family, and Uncle Andy was among them. Tonight Grandma would cross over and they were on their way to her.
“Go to grandma NOW”. They urged.
On the drive back to her house I thought of how every Sunday I’d cook a meal for extended family from out of state. There were many cousins, as well as her children, who stayed nearby her as she died.
Her daughter Alison spent the most time caring for her. She massaged her feet daily with oil called Aura Glow, and she took care of all her physical needs.
Grandma had expressed to us many times, “I feel very fortunate! There are old people who die alone in nursing.”
“Will the stars be out tonight?” She’d asked us, as if planning her ‘death flight!’
When I arrived at grandma’s house, several family members mingled in her living room, they looked up at my entrance with little surprise.
"I’m back” I told them. “I came to say goodbye”
The scent of cinnamon wafted down the hallway I moved toward her bedroom. She lay still, with eyes closed, and I took her left hand in my right one. She gripped mine back, she knew it was me.
“I’ll see you on the other side grandma. I’ll miss you.” I said. She squeezed my hand tighter, “Life is short and I’ll see you again on the other side”
My great aunt, grandma’s sister, peeked in at us and in the hall, cousins, aunts and uncles gathering at the doorway. I supposed they were about to do the same thing I was doing, so I kissed her hand and left the room.
Grandma died four hours later and I went back to her house before dawn, this time to see the body. We are never fully prepared to see someone we love lying dead. I crumbled inside when I saw her lifeless, pale face. How can a heart not fall apart at the sight! My two aunts were finishing up with her blanket and folding her hands together. I cut a lock of her hair for myself, it smelled like lavender. She wore her Africa t-shirt she’d bought in Africa with grandpa last summer
Her death room had been my first bedroom. I'd spent hours talking to grandma there. I’d laughed and cried with her, played card games, borrowed money, and even learned how to sew in that room.
She’d been an avid reader of murder mysteries and liked to read them in bed. So I’d visit her there in the bedroom, mostly after school, to talk about my day. She’d drop the book to her chest her blue eyes peering up at me from above the rim of her glasses, and listen to all my stories no matter how long I talked.
Grandpa planned that our family would have a 24 hour bedside vigil for Grandma, so we stayed in her house, playing chess, visiting with each other at the dining room table, occasionally wandering back to see her body.
The following is what Grandpa wrote about this:
“After my wife had been on hospice for about five months, she began to experience pain when she was turned in bed by our two daughters.
She asked me: “What can I do”?
“You might stop eating,” I replied.
She did stop eating, and at about 5:00 AM three days later, I went into her room, told her that I loved her, that we would miss her, and that it was all right to die. I left the room. Ten minutes later her sister entered the room and found that my wife had died. We reported her death to hospice and the nurse asked if we needed her. We said not.
After two of our daughters dressed their mother, we called the funeral director who, together with the coroner, came and stayed about five or ten minutes. All the funeral arrangements had been made in advance. One of the arrangements was that my wife would not be moved for twenty-four hours after death. Nor was she to be touched during that time by the funeral director. This procedure was followed at my request. I believe that one’s consciousness needs extra time to adjust to the death of the body. In addition, I think that the family also needs this period of time to adjust mentally and emotionally to the changed circumstances.
It was agreed that during this twenty-four hour period only two family members would be with my deceased wife in the room at one time. The two who were present in the room constantly meditated or prayed for my wife to go directly to the Light. Other family members remained most of the time in the front room where a small altar had been constructed.
In retrospect, I think that it is true to say that all those concerned in any way with my wife’s dying, considered her death to have been a good one and her dying and death to have been an excellent example for all those present to have witnessed.”
That evening, I, her son, and my first cousin, had the first block of hours to sit vigil in her room. Grandpa’s original plan had been two people by her bed at a time, but family members with their various schedules forced us to modify this part of it.
We talked quietly at the end of her bed. A small lamp radiated soft light from a table by her head, and I reached up to hold her foot, only for a moment. I sent out a strong prayer for her to go ‘directly to the light’. In their own ways, Billy and Carrie did the same.
Before leaving the room, I stood before her dresser and looked at the profile of her body through the mirror. She was a serene lady sleeping in the reflection. There were yellow daisies in a vase, and a dream catcher dangling from the frame. I felt inspired to take a picture of her reflection.
Just before I clicked her image I said aloud, “Grandma, if you don't want this picture taken of your body let me know!”
THIS IS THE PHOTO I TOOK. HER BODY IS HIDDEN BEHIND THIS VORTEX. THE IMAGE IS GREEN IN THE NEGATIVE. SEE THE BEDSIDE LAMP BY HER BED?
A couple times earlier that day my camera flashed and clicked by itself. This was witnessed by my skeptical Uncle Billy who felt curious enough to immediately develop the film at a one hour photo shop. The two photos were of an Alter, created on and around the family organ, in her honor.
She didn’t see before she died the finished product, with our heartfelt display of cherished ‘Mom-Grandma items’. We’d included a black and white photo of her youthful glowing beauty, a young mother in her sundress, a cigarette dangling from her mouth at the cottage garden in upstate NY, and another while camping at the beach with grandpa. We had a Buddha statue, a picture of Christ, yarn God's eyes made by grandma, and colorful candles, crystals and trinkets.
My ex husband carved a comical cedar statue sticking out its long red tongue. We brought it inside and placed it by the organ. Grandma would have loved this!
She’d encouraged us to 'take lots of family pictures' because she said “We may never have so many family together in one place again,” It's true, she was the center of our wheel, and we rallied around her death bed; our entire family traveled from both coasts, and the Midwest.
Maybe SHE took the two pictures of her Alter, I like to think so!
She has returned to me in dreams and in coincidences. Since then Grandpa has crossed over and when he died, we heard faint sounds of a party reunion going on in his hospice death room. In that silent small town, his room felt like a party.
Even the skeptic family members were in hyper awareness that day- as we all witnessed those laughing and joyous sounds beyond the veil . . .
I'm sure she was there for him on the other side, just as WE were here for him, on this side.