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
