My father died right before Thanksgiving some years back from cancer that started in his lung and spread to his liver. Our relationship had been strained from his second marriage to a jealous and vindictive woman who didn’t want my younger brother and myself to be recognized over her daughter and son. In spite of her attempts my father and I were beginning to rebuild our father/ daughter relationship when he began to succumb to the cancer.
He never admitted to me just how bad it was and I thought he was doing better until the night I got a call from my brother telling me that our dad was in the process of passing. I remember praying in tears to Father God begging him to not let my dad suffer and to please let him pass quickly. Cancer can be such cruel disease with people lingering in pain for weeks before passing. The next morning my brother called and told me that Dad has passed sometime in the very early hours of the morning. He also told me this; he went in to see Dad before his body was taken to the mortuary and on his face was the most beautiful look of total peace and a lovely smile. Whatever my dad experienced at his time of passing must have been beautiful and joyful.
I sometimes wonder if it was “right” for me to pray for the quick and merciful death of my father. I prayed this out of love and not bitterness. Is there a right way for something like this and could that beautiful smile have been because my dad was told that his daughter was praying this prayer?
The compassionate heart looks for ways, and prays for ways to alleviate another being's suffering. What a heart-breaking time for you Rebecca. I hope you know that prayers for the swift and peaceful passing of loved ones is as universal and as old as time. It is always "right" to ask for what is loving. I think your dad felt that prayer of yours and was gently walked through the gates in peace.
Thank you Jan. I didn’t realize how much I’v still been grieving after all these years until reading the comments of others. It came back to me in a flood. Even though I’v reconciled with the difficult relationship I had due to outside circumstances and influence of my dad’s wife I guess I never really allowed myself to truly grieve.
Grieving comes in stages over time. We never really outgrow it. We learn to revisit it and accomodate it, allowing it to be part of the fabric of our life. Be gentle with yourself. Allow space to grieve again, or even for the first time. Grief is the most vulnerable and tender of human experiences. We all share it and help each other through it.
After my dear nephew died by suicide a lot of healing work ensued. He had a terrible bike accident where he lost his teeth and suffered from a concussion. He plummeted into a real depression. When he passed over I kept being visited by his grandfather in my dreams. My husband's father was a chef and during the depression with no liquor license his business was not making ends meet. he also took his life. They were both avid cooks. So I told his grandfather he now had to step forward and be the grandfather my nephew had never had. Whenever either of them would visit me in the dream time I sent them off to the kitchen. I imagine them both very happy doing what they love now cooking. This whole experience has shown me the importance of healing our family trees. I art journal about trees and our roots. I've reconnected with my families oldest living relatives. I long to be a good ancestor for the generations that follow. Every embolic I create an ice lantern and have tulips in the water. It reminds me of the bulbs that lie under the frozen earth that are waiting to unfurl and flourish.
Margie I am so sorry to hear of your nephew's suicide. I'm amazed at the powerful dream work you do! The ability to bring your husband's father and your nephew together is quite special. Now they are both preparing "food", a source of life and nourishment that they can share. It's experiences like these that always leave me with greater understanding and insight into the true nature of reality, and what we cannot see that lies just beyond the veil. Thank you so much for sharing.
“Looking back now and understanding so much more about how our souls process profound emotions like grief, loss, and trauma, the experience of creativity during that time makes perfect sense…” I encountered this experience following a traumatic event in my life in which I survived a brain bleed. New trauma arrived due to its physical effects and further effects due to the treatment. I remember self-discovering “when things don’t go right, go left.” Here I began participating and creating in processes I could never have imagined choosing nor doing. This took me into a new dimension of my life I hadn’t known existed. On the outside some of the healing expressions I took up looked even bizarre and felt foreign/scary in a sense; however like a mother giving birth, it felt beyond me- my being was doing what needed to be done, and I faithfully surrendered. That was in 2005, and it’s only been the last three-5 years that I don’t begin every day with the memory of that trauma. The discoveries from that time are now integrated into who I am today.
Trauma so often takes us into situations that are beyond us. The soul knows what it needs. When there is a "soul emergency" what we know we need to do can definitely look bizarre, foreign and scary. Yet, as you discovered, if we listen to what the soul cries out for we will find a way through. After my mom died it took me about 4 or 5 years before I could actually recall any happy memories of her, even though there were many. The trauma of her last years eclipsed everything else in my memory. I was taken aback when someone pointed out to me that that was a trauma response. That one shift in perspective allowed me to see what I had really endured. It sounds like you experienced something similar. The soul grows through joy and the soul grows through sorrow. I suspect that the latter is the more powerful teacher.
My dad died 18 years ago on Imbolc. Mom would follow 10 years later and pass on Beltane. I have found it incredibly sacred and symbolic that they chose those days to cross over. My dad use to say to me, "Laur, you have to take the bitter with the sweet." And wouldn't you know that in the darkest time of year Mother Nature always provides a hint of color in the bittersweet plant bushes dappling iur landscape. Thank you Jan for your reflection. It allowed me to do a bit of mine.
I find there is a sense of the holy in the celebrations of the earth festivals. When a loved one crosses on or near those days it always seems like a message. Your dad was wise. Bitter and sweet are two side to a coin. In this moment of faint stirrings of new life, when much has perished over the winter, we are offered a time to consider the full sweep of life and death. It is a profound time for reflection.
Yes, I agree. I started a 19 day candle lighting ceremony to honor Goddess Brigid on Imbolc, the night I was told by a shaman when she walks the earth with her white cow with red ears, for gratitude for her continued presence and blessings in our lives. I just realized by your words about reflection to include my dad in the ritual. Thank you
Though I did not mention it directly in yesterday's essay, January 31 marked two years since my mother was able to let go. She has been even more present than usual across the past week. Your words are timely and lovely.
Thank you for sharing your experience. I find the older we get the more deeply our grief stories are woven into our lives and the more we are able to feel the presence of those much loved ones on the other side.
My father died right before Thanksgiving some years back from cancer that started in his lung and spread to his liver. Our relationship had been strained from his second marriage to a jealous and vindictive woman who didn’t want my younger brother and myself to be recognized over her daughter and son. In spite of her attempts my father and I were beginning to rebuild our father/ daughter relationship when he began to succumb to the cancer.
He never admitted to me just how bad it was and I thought he was doing better until the night I got a call from my brother telling me that our dad was in the process of passing. I remember praying in tears to Father God begging him to not let my dad suffer and to please let him pass quickly. Cancer can be such cruel disease with people lingering in pain for weeks before passing. The next morning my brother called and told me that Dad has passed sometime in the very early hours of the morning. He also told me this; he went in to see Dad before his body was taken to the mortuary and on his face was the most beautiful look of total peace and a lovely smile. Whatever my dad experienced at his time of passing must have been beautiful and joyful.
I sometimes wonder if it was “right” for me to pray for the quick and merciful death of my father. I prayed this out of love and not bitterness. Is there a right way for something like this and could that beautiful smile have been because my dad was told that his daughter was praying this prayer?
The compassionate heart looks for ways, and prays for ways to alleviate another being's suffering. What a heart-breaking time for you Rebecca. I hope you know that prayers for the swift and peaceful passing of loved ones is as universal and as old as time. It is always "right" to ask for what is loving. I think your dad felt that prayer of yours and was gently walked through the gates in peace.
Thank you Jan. I didn’t realize how much I’v still been grieving after all these years until reading the comments of others. It came back to me in a flood. Even though I’v reconciled with the difficult relationship I had due to outside circumstances and influence of my dad’s wife I guess I never really allowed myself to truly grieve.
Grieving comes in stages over time. We never really outgrow it. We learn to revisit it and accomodate it, allowing it to be part of the fabric of our life. Be gentle with yourself. Allow space to grieve again, or even for the first time. Grief is the most vulnerable and tender of human experiences. We all share it and help each other through it.
Thank you Jan❤️
Blessings to you.
Thank you Laverne!
After my dear nephew died by suicide a lot of healing work ensued. He had a terrible bike accident where he lost his teeth and suffered from a concussion. He plummeted into a real depression. When he passed over I kept being visited by his grandfather in my dreams. My husband's father was a chef and during the depression with no liquor license his business was not making ends meet. he also took his life. They were both avid cooks. So I told his grandfather he now had to step forward and be the grandfather my nephew had never had. Whenever either of them would visit me in the dream time I sent them off to the kitchen. I imagine them both very happy doing what they love now cooking. This whole experience has shown me the importance of healing our family trees. I art journal about trees and our roots. I've reconnected with my families oldest living relatives. I long to be a good ancestor for the generations that follow. Every embolic I create an ice lantern and have tulips in the water. It reminds me of the bulbs that lie under the frozen earth that are waiting to unfurl and flourish.
Margie I am so sorry to hear of your nephew's suicide. I'm amazed at the powerful dream work you do! The ability to bring your husband's father and your nephew together is quite special. Now they are both preparing "food", a source of life and nourishment that they can share. It's experiences like these that always leave me with greater understanding and insight into the true nature of reality, and what we cannot see that lies just beyond the veil. Thank you so much for sharing.
“Looking back now and understanding so much more about how our souls process profound emotions like grief, loss, and trauma, the experience of creativity during that time makes perfect sense…” I encountered this experience following a traumatic event in my life in which I survived a brain bleed. New trauma arrived due to its physical effects and further effects due to the treatment. I remember self-discovering “when things don’t go right, go left.” Here I began participating and creating in processes I could never have imagined choosing nor doing. This took me into a new dimension of my life I hadn’t known existed. On the outside some of the healing expressions I took up looked even bizarre and felt foreign/scary in a sense; however like a mother giving birth, it felt beyond me- my being was doing what needed to be done, and I faithfully surrendered. That was in 2005, and it’s only been the last three-5 years that I don’t begin every day with the memory of that trauma. The discoveries from that time are now integrated into who I am today.
Trauma so often takes us into situations that are beyond us. The soul knows what it needs. When there is a "soul emergency" what we know we need to do can definitely look bizarre, foreign and scary. Yet, as you discovered, if we listen to what the soul cries out for we will find a way through. After my mom died it took me about 4 or 5 years before I could actually recall any happy memories of her, even though there were many. The trauma of her last years eclipsed everything else in my memory. I was taken aback when someone pointed out to me that that was a trauma response. That one shift in perspective allowed me to see what I had really endured. It sounds like you experienced something similar. The soul grows through joy and the soul grows through sorrow. I suspect that the latter is the more powerful teacher.
My dad died 18 years ago on Imbolc. Mom would follow 10 years later and pass on Beltane. I have found it incredibly sacred and symbolic that they chose those days to cross over. My dad use to say to me, "Laur, you have to take the bitter with the sweet." And wouldn't you know that in the darkest time of year Mother Nature always provides a hint of color in the bittersweet plant bushes dappling iur landscape. Thank you Jan for your reflection. It allowed me to do a bit of mine.
I find there is a sense of the holy in the celebrations of the earth festivals. When a loved one crosses on or near those days it always seems like a message. Your dad was wise. Bitter and sweet are two side to a coin. In this moment of faint stirrings of new life, when much has perished over the winter, we are offered a time to consider the full sweep of life and death. It is a profound time for reflection.
Yes, I agree. I started a 19 day candle lighting ceremony to honor Goddess Brigid on Imbolc, the night I was told by a shaman when she walks the earth with her white cow with red ears, for gratitude for her continued presence and blessings in our lives. I just realized by your words about reflection to include my dad in the ritual. Thank you
Beautiful!
Though I did not mention it directly in yesterday's essay, January 31 marked two years since my mother was able to let go. She has been even more present than usual across the past week. Your words are timely and lovely.
Thank you for sharing your experience. I find the older we get the more deeply our grief stories are woven into our lives and the more we are able to feel the presence of those much loved ones on the other side.