A Place of Comfort

This past week I had some really good days, but by the weekend, as Halloween was approaching, a deep sense of sadness and heartache came over me. Grief is so interesting - it comes upon you so suddenly. Of course, in trying to deal with all the sadness, it spills into anger. So Friday night, tossing and turning and not being able to sleep, I realized that the tightness in my chest wasn’t just sadness, there was a deep rage welling up inside me.

Knowing that it was starting to feel really heavy in my heart and that I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep unless I addressed these feelings, I leaned into the anger. I allowed the anger to come forward, and just like we do in a process, I played out a video in my mind. I visualized everything I was angry about, and using pictures, images and words I saw myself releasing all my anger. After I played out the anger video, I pulled out shapes and colors and continued to play out even more anger videos. I did this for about an hour and then finally fell asleep.

In the dark hours of the morning, still feeling heavy, I continued to work through the memories, the anger and the sadness. I released quite a bit of emotion about the medical treatments and the day my daughter died. I am sharing all of this because I want to share what came as this deep overwhelming grief and sadness lifted. I had reached a point where my pillow was soaked, and yet I had been crying for so long that some of the tears were drying on my face.

I finally felt like I could move into the clearing. As I cleared the pain, the sadness, the grief and feelings of not wanting to be here anymore because of this deep, suffocating pain, I saw a light and felt some relief. It was truly as if the first hint of the morning light was coming into my room.

The dark cloud of grief that had been hanging around me lifted, I felt God, the image of a loving father, step into the picture and hold me while I cried in his arms. I felt the residue of hardness ad bitterness melt away and I felt like I was finally being offered some comfort. I felt a simple impression that he knew what I was feeling, because he had sacrificed his own son. He continued to hold me and my heart was able to receive the comfort he was offering.

After a time, I could see Lindsey dressed in white, she stepped forward. She hugged me, and held me close, it felt so good to feel her hugging me and smiling at me. She led me into a beautiful garden. I love gardens. I had never seen a garden like this one, of course, it was not an earthly garden. Beautiful plants and trees growing everywhere, we walked a short distance on a gentle path and came to stand in what seemed like the middle of the garden.

There she pointed out a beautiful rose bush, tall and well groomed. The first thing I noticed is that the whole plant seemed illuminated, it sparkled with glowing light. The roses were pink and yellow and a held the most beautiful fragrance. As I was drawn into the beauty of the roses I realized they looked like what is known as the peace rose. My mom’s favorite rose. She had a lot of them planted along the backside of her house as we were growing up.

Then I saw my mother who passed away seven years ago, standing there so clear and so fully present. She reached out to me, and I to her, with such a warm, real embrace. I sobbed in her arms. I miss her so much, how can a mother and daughter survive the pain of being separated. Lindsey joined us in the hugging. I found myself being comforted by my mother and my daughter. It was a glorious reunion. It was so real and such a gift from God. I saw my grandmother’s step in and hug us. Such warm embraces.

Then I saw others that live on that side of the veil. I saw the space open to include many people standing there gathered around us. Many were my family members. There were some that seemed familiar but that I did not know. They had come to acknowledge that they were family members of some of the people I have worked with here with processing.

It was overwhelming to say the least. This scene reminded me that I am not done. I still have a purpose and a mission to complete. My heart was starting to be filled with joy and an even deeper understanding that Lindsey is with my mom and many family members. She is not suffering, and she lives and works with me from the other side.

Of course, I know and understand these truths spiritually and intellectually, however, emotionally I was being given this experience to help this mother’s heart transition into this time in my life where Lindsey will not be with us physically. Grieving helps us move into acceptance of change.

Instead of feeling so alone in my personal grief, I allowed my heart to be filled with the love and support from those on the other side. I did not feel so alone but, rather felt buoyed up and supported. In my heart, I could truly feel that I had not been abandoned, nor had I been forsaken or forgotten. In those dark and heavy times of grief, where a mother’s human heart can hardly bear the pain of separation from her child, I had been given the simple power of the process and through God’s grace, found a place of comfort.