Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Part 11: Bye For Now & Honoring Her Life (The Finale)

Post First Originally Published On Tuesday, July 9th, 2013, 7:10 PM


The time was set. 5:30 pm, just around the time of the remaining sunlight of the day would be shining through the sky, was the appointment. I looked at the clock. It was just past two. 2:02 pm to be more precise. A little more than three hours left after more than ten and a half wonderful years with her. As with my plan, I prepared my android phone with videos and interviews of Dolores Cannon’s work, specifically about life after death. I did this as fast as I could. As the audios and videos were uploading to my phone, I saw my brother in the backyard, next to the step, sitting next to Lucky, petting her while listening to a Dolores Cannon interview about the soul, the experience of what it was like to “die”, how freeing souls feel when finally released from their ghastly, withering away bodies, how they are much happier on the other side, how the soul feels detached from the entire situation once above the body, and how death was nothing to be feared. I brought my computer, connected to the phone’s USB, and brought it outside where they were. I sat next to Lucky and stroked her fur from behind. I remember a scene of Lucky looking behind at me, and I petted her, and looked into her eyes, and remember thinking telepathically to her, “It’s okay Lucky, you’ll be free from this diseased body soon.” So I spent time with her. Just sat next to her, occasionally looking at my computer which had Dolores Cannon’s works and a whole array and arsenal of life after death related stuff. I would just focus on the moment, being with her, in these “last” moments. My sister came out, we all petted her. We were all silent. Not an awkward silence, but a silence of understanding, respect, and realization of the moment in time. The only sound, Dolores Cannon’s voice, to which served as a constant reminder of what I knew about the other side. I had read in Tony Robbin’s book, Awaken the Giant Within, that there was a culture of people that would celebrate when their loved one passed on because they viewed death not as losing someone they love forever, but as the graduation of an individual moving on. It was a well-rounded reminder that our beliefs shape how we interpret events and that events in themselves, are neither good nor bad. I was reminded of Dr. Phil episodes where grieving parents or family members were terribly stuck and unable to move on, and I thought back to the lessons and teachings that Dr. Phil so eloquently stated. Lessons and teachings that I would need to reinforce with my mom and sister, later that evening.

I would walk inside, and see my mom reading a Chinese book, a scribe that she used in moments suitable to this one. She told me later on that it’s something that Chinese people read to guide and ensure their loved one moves on properly to “heaven”. She said that from her background, she believed that after a life, we are judged based off the life we lived and based off that either go to heaven or hell. I, of course, being a student of Dolores Cannon and many past life regressionists, believe that we are not judged by some higher power, but that we judge ourselves. That we judge the life we just lived during the life review, and that there is no such thing as hell. Hell is something that was created by the church to create fear in people and thus have and maintain control over the people. As I’ve stated before, there is a lot of credible, solid, intriguing evidence out there that supports life after death. There is a lot out there if people are willing to keep their minds open and do research. Many independent fields of science are corroborating what Dolores Cannon and past life regressionists have found in their works.

As in the moment as I maintained myself to be, time was ticking. I remember all three of us taking pictures of her. She looked so sick. So tired. Worn out. I took a couple pictures of the fading sunlight as the time encroached. I remember seeing the approximate one hour mark. Then down to 45 minutes, down to 30 minutes. As I sit back right now and think about what was going through my mind when time was ever so gradually, yet in some way, quickly, ticking down, I remember being relatively calm, and being in the moment. Not panicking over the time I should have spent with her, while at some level feeling sad that it was “ending” this way. I guess the best way to put it is that I was feeling calmly despondent while focusing on my belief that she was going to be going home and free from what she was suffering from. And so came the time.

The time for the four of us to leave. To temporarily say bye. To take a vacation away from our beloved dog of 10 & 1/2 years. For us to go our separate ways until my time here is done. Until the reunion. It was time for us to be leaving, before the euthanasia servicer arrived. I quietly told my brother and sister to one by one to express our love for her one more time here on earth. My sister went first, petting her and kissing her on the head. She went strong, not crying, as I wanted because I didn’t want Lucky to know that anything major was wrong. My brother next, petting her, kissing her, whispering to her, “I love you Lucky”, following by kissing her again, and saying more expressing his love for her. My turn. I came up to her forehead, put my nose and lips on her, felt her soft fur, engraving this moment into me. “I love you Lucky.” “I love you with all my heart. Thank you for all the joy you’ve given me. I won’t forget you. You’ll always be a part of me and who I am. Thank you for teaching me this lesson. I won’t betray this lesson. This will not be in vain. I love you with all my heart”. I kissed her, keeping my lips and nose touching her for the longest kiss I’ve ever given her. Whispered to her that I loved her again and said, “See you on the other side. I love you.” Kissed her once more, and with that, I walked towards the garage, having said my words to her. Right before we left, when we were getting ready to leave, my brother went up to her, and kissed her again and said in an as positive tone of voice as the situation warranted, “I love you, and see you on the other side.” Then planted his final kiss. After seeing him do this, I run up to Lucky, one last time here on earth, I felt her soft fur above her eyes, whispered to her that I loved her, and kissed her one last time. I knew we had to go now. I was adamant about not seeing the person that would be euthanizing my dog. And like that, as my brother backed the car out of the sidewalk, and as we got onto the van, I looked up towards the sky, the fading light of the day, took in a deep breath of air, exhaled controllably, and boarded the vehicle. My brother drove to one of the most popular malls in our driving vicinity. All silent onboard. In my mind, I knew it wasn’t time to cry. It was time to bolster my beliefs and to help bolster my mom and sister’s beliefs and indirectly, their feelings about the situation. I remember controlling my breathing to maintain my calmness despite the situation, looking at the good in the world, the people on the streets outside the mall as we pulled up to the mall after about a 10-15 minute drive. We pulled into the parking lot and there my brother and I decided we would go inside, walk around, talk, and choose to be positively affected by the environment. My mom wasn’t ready. She didn’t want my brother and I to see her crying. She said we “could” go into the mall if we wanted, and I intuitively knew that she preferred to have a bit of space at the moment to just let go. My sister stayed with her. My brother and I went into the mall. We just began walking with a moderate pace and gait, not a too-depressed like gait and not an ecstatic gait either obviously. We began talking about how the situation had run its course, how we did our best for Lucky, and how we are doing the right thing for Lucky’s. We then drifted to talking about all the reasons of why we strongly believe in our convictions of what Dolores Cannon has found in her work. We talked about all the sciences that were now beginning to support it, how all the paranormal shows we watched growing up, and believing that while many have been widely exaggerated, we believe there is always a core truth to all of them. We talked about memories that some children have of past lives. And there we began, in our phones, texting down the list, the list of all the numerous evidence we have for the other side. I told my brother that I had already begun one actually, and having this abundant and solid foundation of information I could access anytime of my “evidence stash” really helped me deal with what was happening. But we began the list, writing down other ideas that I had not previously stored into my stash. We marked the ideas down in our phones, and we continued to talk. We must have walked the large mall inside here and there, over and out, and we still were talking. Honestly, it was one of the most therapeutic, deep, substantial, and juicy conversation I have had about this topic. By the middle and end of our conversation, I had begun to feel relatively good for what was going on. I brought up the lessons Dr. Phil talks about when it comes to grief stricken individuals who are stuck. I brought up how we should be celebrating Lucky’s life. How the last thing passed on loved ones want is to have you grieving and being unable to move on with your life. We talked about how true it is that to overly grieve someone’s passing is to betray their legacy. Their legacy should be one that brings you joy and love, not sadness and overwhelm. We talked about how true the fact is that your length of grieving for someone is not at all indicative of how much you love them. This is a huge one that I learned from Dr. Phil and I couldn’t agree more! I talked about honoring Lucky’s legacy. What kind of legacy I want this to lead to. How I wanted to make sure this experience and her somewhat of an early passing, will not be in vain. As we were walking, and after talking for some period of time, I took out my phone to see if my mom or sister had called me and myself, unknowingly, missed it. I turned it on and I saw the time 6:30. I reasoned in my head that by that time, it was probably done. Lucky has left her body and is home. Of course I tried to imagine in my head what that would be like, being on the other side, but if you read enough past life regression books, you’ll know that no language on earth is adequate in doing justice in describing what it is like on the other side. There was no phone call or text from my mom or sister, so by brother and I continued to share our thoughts.

After talking for what must have been easily more than an hour and a half, probably around two hours, we returned to the car. I was in as good a mood as I possibly could have been. I knew that Lucky was back home, in a place outside of space and time. I could tell that my mom cried, and she was explaining to my sister of the scribe that she was reading at home and reading now while on the car. I didn’t feel like going back home yet. It was still too early. We drove to a Chinese plaza and I reminded the four of us that we were going to honor Lucky’s life. So that’s what we did. We took our time eating, and we talked. Throughout the conversation, my brother and I would appropriately remark our beliefs of Lucky being happier now, not suffering, the importance of celebrating her life, and using this experience for the betterment of ourselves. I was not grieving her so called “loss”. I was not exactly despondent nor by any means ecstatic. My mood was a mixed with moderate despondence over what has transpired, mixed with a sense of calmness and bliss knowing that she is much happier now, and partly mixed with a feeling of being in the twilight zone, where intellectually you know what happened but emotionally, you just don’t seem to be there yet. We ate and talked for probably another two hours after getting to the plaza. It wasn’t midnight late, probably sometime between 9 and 10. It was time to head back. I think back as I write this, and remember walking back inside the house from the garage, going inside, being greeted by my dad in the living room with the television on, and maintained that same emotion I described just a few sentences ago, except now, it was more real to me. I wasn’t overwhelmed by it because I knew it had happened, and my beliefs kept me intact. I remember telling my dad, who is significantly over weight, to take good care of himself, as I did not want to go through another nightmare like this. The passing on of a loved one, peacefully and a result of old age, is something we can at least accept, but to live in a 24 hour, waking, stress-filled, nightmare is no fun whatsoever. I know it’s an adage and a platitude, but the veracity speaks to a whole new meaning once you live it, breathe it, and survive your nightmare. I remember my mom asking my dad if Lucky went calmly. I immediately stated out loud, “No no, I don’t want to hear that”, but I overheard. And I was relieved. My dad said she went calmly. I didn’t want to know because if she didn’t, it would have pained me to the point where experiencing an actual, physical injury may have been preferred. But thank god, it was so relieving and partly, crucial, to allowing me to recover as quickly and as much as possible from Lucky’s homecoming. My brother and I were in the smack dab middle of our six week winter break, so the timing for her to leave, in a way, was just right. I had about three weeks to recover, before the toughest semester of nursing school, the Junior Two semester, would be coming my way.          

As we settled down, it was still crucial for our family to be together, and not isolate ourselves. It just so happened that Harry Potter was playing on ABC. I don’t know which Harry Potter was playing, but it was the one with the Asian girl. So we watched Harry Potter together, and we talked, made jokes, and even laughed to keep the mood up. Bittersweet I guess. We all knew how we COULD feel in that moment, and surely no one would have blamed us. But through our talk and focusing on our beliefs, we all tacitly decided to make it easier on all of us in emotionally recovering. The internal dialogue we were telling ourselves were absolutely crucial. Using words of “going home” instead of dying or leaving forever is a prime example. And based off our beliefs, it’s not a lie to say that to myself. Winners tell themselves the truth, and that is the truth for me. It is my belief, it is my perception, and it is my reality.

That night, my brother and I decided to remain sleeping on the living room couch, where we had been sleeping the past few nights since Lucky’s status headed downhill. My god have the last few days been awful; since Wednesday night, December the 26th. I wasn’t ready to go back to sleeping in my room. It was still part of the process of acclimatizing myself to Lucky’s crossing over. The moment of laying down on the couch, adjusting myself and my blanket, and thinking to myself, “I’m not sure if I’ve really realized what happened today yet. I can’t believe I really went through that. I can’t believe Lucky is not physically with me. I can’t believe the nightmare has at last come to a conclusion. I have to make Lucky’s story known and not let her death be in vain. I’m going to be going on an intensive self-exploration into this topic of consciousness outside of the body. I’m need to be write about this culmination of life-altering events. I’m behind in my writing, there’s so much I need to write about. How much of my thoughts from this approximate four month nightmare will I be able to track down? Will the story get out? I have to, I want to, and I must. How could I write about all these other things in my life and not write about this! I must do this”. I remember taking in a few deep breaths and controlled exhalations, just soaking up the moment. I wasn’t sure how well I’d be able to sleep tonight, but part of me knew that at least I could sleep not worried about Lucky’s inability to stand, go to the bathroom, and all the while being in pain from not being able to go to the bathroom. That soothed me. That relaxed me. I didn’t know how long I’d sleep, compared to normal, relatively stress free days of past breaks, but I was relatively sure that I’d be able to sleep deeply for at least a moderate length of time. Before dozing off to bed, my brother was watching psychic medium, John Edward, in a show where he picked up on things from the other side that were pertinent to random audience members. I watched that YouTube video with him, feeling confident that we had done the right thing today. I didn’t know how I would feel exactly the next day, but I think I was handling the circumstances of the day very well.

I woke up mid-morning, about 9 o’clock. My mom came out to tell me that she heard noises that sounded a bit like the noise Lucky’s paws would make when getting up from our hardwood floor during the night. She thought it also could have just been the sound my brother and I made as we shifted on our couches. She wasn’t too sure. We went out to eat for lunch. We were going to slowly get back into things at home. I got together with a friend of mine that evening and we watched The Hobbit, a movie I had been meaning to watch for sometime but had been delayed. My sister came with us. It was important that she continued her recovery as well and we thought this would be a good way to do so. That night, I slept on the couch again. Still wasn’t ready to go back yet to my bed. Thursday night, January 3rd, 2013, or the Friday AM hours (~12:51 AM of January 4th, 2013) was when I finally returned to my bed. So as you can see, I slept on the couch outside for another three more days after Sunday, December 30th, 2012. On Friday, January 4th, 2013, I had an appointment to donate blood with American Red Cross and also watched the movie, Life of Pi, with my sister’s good friend.

The week following Lucky’s passing, my brother and I officially started a list of all the things we deemed as our evidence of the other side. I looked back on previous Dr. Phil episodes where clients were stricken with grief and I listened to Dr. Phil’s words about overcoming grief and reminded myself of the mistakes in mentality people make after losing a loved one. I also backed up all of Lucky’s pictures and videos that my entire family had. I was going to put them up to commemorate Lucky.  


Thinking about all of this, a little more than six months later, I feel I recovered from Lucky’s passing very quickly. And did so not out of a lack of empathy, alcohol, drugs, or by suppressing and denying my emotions and the events that occurred. I did it out of a gradual building and development of strong spiritual beliefs backed by more and more scientific evidence of what I see as proof of the other side. Remember, I learned about Dolores Cannon and her work sometime Freshman year in college. I had already about two years of learning about her work and already beginning to see some of the connections of evidence that supports the ancient astronaut theory, something that Dolores has found to be true in her work. Aside from my strong foundation of spiritual beliefs, I must admit that Dr. Phil’s words to his grieving clients helped me tremendously to give myself permission to get over it, permission to be happy. To know that your length of time grieving for your loved one is not one bit indicative of how much you love them. To know that I should celebrate her life, to remember that our loved ones would not want us to be in so much pain and suffering over what happened to them, to know that we should honor their legacy and to use this loss to do good, and not let their death be in vain, these are the core lessons I learned from watching Dr. Phil, and by god, if it were not for these things, who knows how my Junior Two semester would have went! I’d imagine I’d be getting C’s and committing stupid error after error in clinical to the point where I’d just break down in anger and frustration from feeling like a victim. I remember hitting the one week point after December 30th, 2012 and feeling like time had just flown by. It’s been six months plus now, and I feel the same, that time is just flying by.

I remember talking to my clinical instructor of my Junior One semester about how long she grieved after she experienced a death of a loved one. She told me she was grieving for about a solid year before she reached the point where she could avoid tearing up when something reminded her of her loved one. I remember thinking, “great, people, depending on the number of family members and pets they have, are going to be so fucking depressed and miserable for at least a few years of their lives”. To say that I never cried after Lucky’s passing does not in any way make me a traitor. In no way does it make me a sociopath. I love my dog. I love Lucky. She’s still in my mind many times of the day, but not in a bad way. I think about what she would do that would make me laugh and put a smile on my face. She was and still is my adorable baby. I have made it clear on my blog posts that I do not want any children. She is the only one that I would call my baby, at least in this life. I had so many names for her, so many baby names.

If you asked me if I missed her, I’d say that I would love to see her right now if I could. I’d love to be able to pet her, smell her fur, stroke her soft face. Baby talk to her again. But I certainly don’t miss her in the sense that “Oh Lucky why did you have to leave! How am I going to move on without you!?” type of dramatization and hysteria. I cannot make it more than clear that I believe we will meet back home again, in the ultimate precise reality. If you’ve ever heard of the holographic universe model, you probably have at least an idea or two of what I’m talking about. I think about her and send her warm feelings all the time. Her contract came to an end and it was time for her to go back. Simple as that. It’s time for me to continue my journey and do what I came here to do.

Until the inevitable reunion, with much love,

Michael                
          



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