Mom

My mom passed a week ago yesterday, January 30, 2020. She was 101 (and a half). She had a really good passing, a good death. She became a Mormon after her kids were grown. She was attracted to it because of their belief in life after death and how dying should be a celebration of passing into the Light, which she also believed.

In 2014 she had a very serious gall bladder infection. She became very septic and nearly died. After her first night in ICU my brother paid her a visit and found her face down, sprawled across her bed, with no signs of life. He shook her, called her name, and she suddenly sat bolt upright and stared at him as if she didn’t know him or where she was. My brother told me about the incident, so when I arrived a few hours later I asked Mom about it. She said that she had, in fact, died, and that she was completely aware of leaving her body, of ascending into the Light, of being enveloped in infinite love and Presence. She said she was no longer afraid of dying, that she had no fear of death at all, because she had crossed over and knew what to expect. I told her that from then on until the day that she finally passed, she would be doing lots of practice runs, lots of mini-deaths, in preparation for the real thing. She said she knew that and was looking forward to it.

On January 23rd I flew from Phoenix to Burbank to be with her in hospice. We were warned that she could pass at any time and that if we wanted to see her before she passed we needed to come immediately. The night before my flight I had a “dream” about Mom: I could feel her presence near my left side, and I could hear her saying, “No more pain, there’s no more pain, no more pain” over and over. I could see her in the Light and knew where she was, so I said to her, “Mom, keep going”. I could feel her move upward, and I could hear her saying, “There’s so much love, there’s so much love, there’s so much love” over and over, until she finally faded into the Light. I wasn’t sure if she’d passed that night or if she’d still be alive in Burbank when I got there.

When I arrived she was still alive and present, present in spite of the morphine she’d been getting to help relax her breathing. She was aware of everyone in the room, even though she had basically one foot in her body and all the rest of her in the Light. Her face was illuminated, her eyes were illuminated, and she spoke to everyone in the room from her position of being in the light, telling everyone how much she loved them, how much we all meant to her. And she talked about how much she looked forward to seeing all of us in the Light when we joined her.

I had booked a return flight for that same day, so I eventually had to leave. That was rough, because we both knew it was the last time we’d physically see each other. But she said to me that she knew I had always been with her her entire life, that I looked after her, and that she could always find me regardless of where we were, here or in the Light. I told her to find me if she got lost and that I’d help her find her way.

So, two nights before her death I sensed her near my left side once again. Only this time she was a fairly large blue/white sphere with a bright white center that radiated light out into the bluer part of her. I directed a lot of white light to that center, then waited to see how she would handle it. Some beings move way, but she didn’t. Instead she expanded toward the light and let it permeate her so that all the blue areas turned bright gold-white and she glowed with that light. After a while she faded out, and again I wondered if she had passed. But she hadn’t.

On her final night I experienced her in my center, rather than to the left, and she was in a column of white light: just her presence, no bodies of any kind. She was slowly ascending the column of light toward a very bright central sun and she was saying over and over, “I love you so much, I love you so much, I love you so much.” That wasn’t for me but for the Light that she was in and the Presence she was moving toward. I watched her move up into the central sun and her thoughts stopped, and she became absorbed into that Presence. And when she did I could feel her presence as part of the Presence, and I could feel her in all the space around me and that she was filling that space just as the Presence fills that space.

So I’ve had absolutely no sorrow or emptiness from her passing, only the joy and happiness that she experiences being one with the Presence. She did it, she made it. That’s all she ever really wanted in life.

This is a photo of her taken by my sister the morning after my visit (click the photo to enlarge it). She was still very much in the Light.