In our private social media support group for widows, one lady asked about mediums. Disregarding the religious nay-sayers, we had a meaningful discussion. I mentioned that I follow Matt Fraiser the psychic medium on YouTube, and he brings me comfort and entertainment. Others chimed in with their favorites and experiences. I shared the “Where Did You Go?” book with the group, and they told me about Chris Lippincott, another psychic medium. I listened to his podcast interview, Healing Messages from the Afterlife. All this inspired me to try another deep meditation to connect to you.
When I logged into meditation class this morning, I resolved to pay attention and participate more than usual. I focused and raised my vibration so I could connect to yours. I asked to see the door. I was shown a cathedral with two commanding arched wooden doors. They opened into bright light, and then night clouds and sky. You came into focus with the same 2-3 looks from photographs taken years ago. I asked why you always show me yourself at 23 and you said something about “23 and me.” I see Arrow is with you, jaunting through lustrous hills and valleys.
As I connected with you, I started to experience your perspective in your life transition. You knew I came to the hospital ICU and they gave me your most personal things, including your wallet and wedding ring, to take home for good. I sense you knew at this point, as did the nurses, that you weren’t going to make it. You felt bad about me and the children, but what could you do?
A day or two later, as you coded and died, I hear a long beep, and then I see the side of your hospital bed. Blinding white light beams flood down to the bed diagonally from across the room. The light absorbs you away from this place. You experienced the most intense natural high there is. You tell me “Nothing else matters.” Love is all there is. I am crying. You are in another dimension. I remain in this worldly realm.
I then saw you on the day of your internment. It was a sunny, breezy, winter afternoon. I sense that even though you said “throw me in the woods,” if you die, you are glad I did something more meaningful. You like the location, the palm trees and the lake. It is tranquil. Next, I could see the shovel-tips of dirt raining down on you, loving farewells and goodbyes from your loved ones. You take pride in the remarks friends and family made at graveside and during your celebration of life.
In the podcast interview, Lippincott suggests humans are “sleepwalking.” We all wear a body “raincoat” that comes in tan, or white, or whatever. To die is actually to reawaken into Spirit. We are all living a duality right now. On earth, we are learning.
I hear you singing, “Come with me on a journey to a place you’ve never been before. Come with me and I’ll show you all the sights you’ve never seen. Follow me. Follow me. Follow me.” This is your song.