Surrounded by family, my Aunt Wilmoth died peacefully in her sleep, in her home in Gonzales, Texas on May 26, 2016 around 4:30 AM local time. She had suffered a massive heart attack a few days before and was taken by ambulance to a hospital in San Antoine, where doctors operated … but told family members that she wouldn’t last long because the dye used to do the angiogram had adversely affected her kidneys and other organs. Following surgery, knowing life was failing, she requested an ambulance to take her home to die.
I spoke with her the week before she passed. When she answered her telephone, she sounded out of breath but assured me she was fine and had spent hours that day pulling weeds from her beloved yellow rose garden. We talked and laughed about life and death. She told me she was ready to go and longed to see her husband (my uncle), her sons, and other old friends who had passed on over the years. She told me she would tell family members that I was excused from attending her memorial service in Oklahoma (I live in South America.) because we would see each other again—on the other side. I promised to help her cross over and I did.
Over the years, we had talked about our beliefs; God and the hereafter. Knowing that no one knows exactly when they will die and who will die first, we agreed to let the one left behind know if their spiritual beliefs were valid. And we agreed to communicate our findings after death. It was the same agreement I had shared with my friend Michael and my sister Leah before their deaths.
My aunt’s death, and frequent appearances of her in my visions since, have piqued my curiosity. I am busy exploring the importance of coming to terms with life and death; and inviting an exchange of information between souls on earth and in the great beyond.
When I lived in Patzcuaro, Mexico (2006-2009) with my husband Doug and son Jesse, one of my favorite celebrations was “Dia de los Muertos” (Day of the Dead). Dating back to Aztec and pre-Columbian times, it is a joyous tribute to life and loved ones who have passed on. November 1 and November 2 are the observed dates when many Mexicans believe that the gates of the afterlife open and spirits are free to mingle with the living. Loving family and friends clean and decorate graves and visit local cemeteries where they leave offerings of flowers, favorite foods (corn tortillas aplenty), drinks (lots of Tequila), and cherished objects to welcome the deceased.
The living, dressed in colorful masks and skeleton costumes hold candlelight vigils as they await a whisper of wind to blow the spirits back to earth.
The intent of this event is to honor the dead and encourage communication between souls. By engaging the living, this celebration teaches all who observe not to be afraid of death, but to enjoy and take advantage of every living moment on earth.
What comes after death? Who knows? When I helped my aunt cross over, I encouraged her to follow the light and reminded her of our agreement. She is onto another journey. So glad she had a quality life, a good death, and is sharing the beyond with me. She lives on in my heart and soul, and always will because we are connected.
Do you feel a soul connection with family or friends? Do you communicate with those who have gone on before? I would enjoy hearing about your experiences.
This is of course a timely post, Susan. First, I’m sorry for your loss. Your aunt sounds like someone I would have very much enjoyed knowing.
I too write this Halloween week of Samhain and it’s belief that it’s as a time when that boundary between life and death is temporarily lifted. Some cultures call them ghosts, some believe they can communicate. These are all cultural beliefs and fascinating to me. But I don’t buy into them. I see the various beliefs that I come across about life after death as attempts to mitigate the pain of saying goodbye. The pain of losing someone can be so great that I can understand how one might find great solace in that reuniting belief. And I don’t want to take that away from anyone. For of course, I could be wrong. I just believe that this particular boundary is less permeable than some would hold.
I think this is an important topic to discuss and I’m glad you raised it. There is great solace to be gained from the idea of being held in the arms of the angels. I sing of this often at bedsides in my hospice choir. I just don’t believe it for myself.
Janet, thanks for your fascinating comments. I enjoyed reading your Halloween post. A fun one! Sharing your blog with my friends. http://janetgivens.com/blog/
Forgive my delay in answering you. I am dealing with an old eye injury made worse by trekking high altitudes in Peru and Bolivia in July. Seems the shock of altitude change can aggravate old injuries and scar tissue. As a result I must rest my eyes. Little reading, little writing is frustrating but important.
My beliefs about life and death changed drastically following my own near death experience in my early 20s. Doctors declared me gone as I followed a bright light into space and far beyond. My return to life had me viewing time and eternity from a different angle. I believe there is a boundary between life and death, but for me it is permeable. By going deep enough into myself, my energy and rhythm can take me across anytime I choose to connect with souls there. And I have had the privilege to do this on several occasions. Thanks for joining in the discussion.
Thank you for sharing this with us, Susan. Do I feel a soul connection with family and friends? The answer is yes, and multiple times yes. I was not able to travel from Portland to San Diego when my mother took a turn for the worse. As I was doing yoga in an attic room of our floating home, she came to me, her eldest son, and said that she was going now. I spoke with her, told her that I loved her, and thanked her for all that she had done for us. I told her to go toward the light, and that there was nothing to fear. I knew the exact moment of her death, and looked at the clock. Going downstairs to take my shower, I told Sandy that she might be getting a call. The call came while I was in the shower. Later, I asked those of my sibs who had been able to be with her in San Diego about the time of her death, and they told me the same exact time that I had noted. This did not surprise me then, nor does it now, and I have had many such experiences, which I treasure.
Don, thank you for sharing your amazing experience! I also helped my father cross over. I had visited him a few weeks prior to his death in CA. Doug and I were living in OR at the time and I was awakened in the wee hours by my father’s voice; calling my nickname. I got up and immediately telephoned my brother in CA. He said that dad was in the hospital in a coma. I asked to speak with him. My brother said he wouldn’t be able to hear me. I insisted that my brother hold the earpiece to his ear. I told my father I loved him and that it was okay to move on, to take my hand and follow the light. Moments later, bells and whistles started clanging. I could hear nurses talking and knew he had passed. My brother got back on the telephone and said he wasn’t certain what was happening. I thanked him for holding the phone so I could say goodbye and told him that dad had died. I am grateful that he called my name. It’s a great privilege to be connected with a soul when it moves on.
Yes Susan, I have several experiences like you. Would love to talk about with you, but not writing about here !
“The dia de los Muertos” is in my memory about all the open houses and doors in Mexican towns and
everyone has lots of food and invites you to eat and drink. Whole towns are a big party . One won’t go hungry .
The biggest memory I have about a song they sing and play all the time in Mexico – on this special day – but
also at funerals etc. etc.
I heard that song first in the movie “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” with Humphrey Bogart. They called it
“Todesmelodie” , the melody of death, but I guess its a “farewell melody” in Mexico.
If I knew the title I would look it up for you in YouTube, may be someone else knows the title of this song !?
One can hear it in the movie “when the Indians “farewell” the gold seekers out of their town”. It’s a heartbreaking
melody and can one turn to tears.
Sue,
My name is Samuel. Great grandson of Memaw Honey, Wilmoth. I was with memaw in person when she physically passed and also visited by her/with her as she crossed over.
I would love to visit with you.
Samuel
sam@honeybeedallas.com
Samuel, delighted to hear from you. Your Memaw adored you. Thanks for reaching out. Hope you are happy and healthy. xx