My Father’s Death

Dear Fellow Travelers and Beloved Souls,

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Me, holding his horse as a young colt.

As most of you know from my Facebook post, on July 6th, I unexpectedly and suddenly lost my loving, gentle, and kindhearted  father.  He was 84.  The obituary in the paper began  . . . the gentle giant. . . I never saw him that way, but many did with his 6’6” stature. I just knew him as ‘Dad.’ The services were Monday, July 13th—the day after my 58th birthday.

At the funeral services many different ideas and beliefs surfaced as we all directly faced the question of death and mortality.  I realized this as a spontaneous mini-exposé in front of those gathered,  speaking at the microphone that my father would be back. I would know him, I continued,  this time playing on the playground, laughing and joyful—perhaps as my grandson—and we would recognize each other when I saw his eyes; the windows to the soul. Life is a continuous circle with —no beginning and no end.  We are eternal and forever and as old as the cosmos. In esoteric circles it is accepted  that we most often reincarnate in karmic  (old term) or akashic groups.  As close family and friends gathered in the small Weller chapel together; we witnessed, his journey as Charles complete. And those he touched were tearful as we said our good-byes; big or small, he had touched us all.

Who was he? And, who are we? Each milestone always begs questions, bigger questions from us all, does it not?  I share what resonates; it may or may not with you—but this is my truth.  God doesn’t change; we do. Try it on.  Does it make you feel better?  More at peace?  Or does it shake your belief system?  Make you uncomfortable?  It is not meant to; these ideas are meant to bring peace.  Remember these are just words and thoughts—nothing harmful or anything to fear—ideas, that’s all. 

If we look back in history, we are aware of other belief systems that at one time were true—only to be replaced by updated ideas and new systems of belief.  Two of my favorites are when we as humanity believed the earth was flat, or that germs did not exist, only because we could not see them; they were there all along.  We think differently today.  Is this multi-dimensional view simply the next step in an evolutionary process of human consciousness and acknowledging the god within?  Perhaps a  growth, expansion and awareness of our individual divinity?  That we are the light?

Could it be as simple as putting down our elementary school primer—and graduating to a high school or college text?  I ask you to ponder this possibility.  Of course, there will never be any proof until we take our last breath and our own journey across the veil transferring our energy to our real state—our home; the great central sun.  A metaphor I like.  Great because it’s about our angelic magnificence.  Central because it’s inside us and everywhere. Sun, because we’re light and part of the creative source we call god. What a grand vision. We must each use our own discernment—even stepping back from what our intellect “knows.” These ideas come with a deep knowing and intuitive understanding about  our ‘temporary state’ here on the earth plane—certainly part of a much bigger picture than we could possibly imagine or possibly fit into our small linear 3-D brown corrugated  box on the earth plane within the multi-verses we have occupied.  Each life we live brings its own story, lessons, “tests”, wisdom and compassion. Entangled together like a collected ball of yarn with many colors and textures, our reality more akin to a grand and classic Shakespearean play.  Knowing when the curtain goes down, the one with the knife in his chest gets up and bows with the rest—going on to the cast party afterward to celebrate the success of the play.  Death is like that too.

In his life as Charles, my father was a poet and author. He was a horseman.  He was a father to four children—a husband—a son—and a brother.  He served his country. He loved his garden roses.  Red was his favorite color. He delighted in meeting others and hearing their stories.  He loved cars.  He loved to laugh.  He loved his family— fascinated in discovering his ancestral linage.  He loved to wear ties and his collection was vast and varied; fun and meaningful to him. He delighted in history, quirky humorous movies and the Washington Huskies, never missing an opportunity to don his purple and gold in his later years.    But, that is only part of our story.  It is a story of our linear bias and human mind.  It is a story that we tell ourselves and it has purpose.  But what if it was far grander than our human eyes could see?  What if this was all about learning and growing? The planet of free choice and discovering the magnificence inside and our god piece, raising the vibration and the consciousness of our planet? What if this is a catalyst for even more growth and learning; not only for us here on earth but for our cosmic family—in a mission of love?   What if it could open our eyes to something bigger—if we are only willing to look?

I know he is around me. I feel a glow around my heart.  There has been an transference of energy and he exists simply at a different vibration; he views my colors now.  I wish I could see his colors—but that is not my gift as Cathrine. Einstein taught and left us the iconic phrase ‘energy cannot be created or destroyed.’ Therefore, even science acknowledges he is around me always in that quantum multidimensional state, which restricts our full understanding of our grandness in our limited human form and perception of our multi-dimensional state.

There is a store in my neighborhood. Jezebels, carries many wonderful and unique cards. The words on one brightly colored note complete with hand-painted pink silk-screened roses and vines caught my attention one day.  “When we are born, we are crying and everyone else is smiling.  When we die, we are smiling and everyone else is crying.”

When I am sad, I think of this.  I think of all the wonderful memories we shared as Father and Daughter.  “You had a special relationship with your Dad.” my cousin wrote in his condolence card.  We did.  I hadn’t realized it was so visible to others; energy is that way. So is love. The last gift he left me was a birthday card; he loved cards.  As he lay in the hospital, my birthday was a week away.  Did he know he was not going to be here to share cake and blow out candles?  He sent his wife home to retrieve his cards; he selected one for me.  A young girl and her horse; that was me.   The early memories we shared were remarkably simple: trips to the feed store—getting hay—repairing fences—doctoring horses—the farrier—Dairy Queen.  Those easy simple times that meant the most to me as the years passed.  I told him so. He kept me sane I confessed.  The happiest memories of my childhood—and the freedom I felt at the “Barns.” Perhaps it was the same for him too?

I feel a glow around my heart.  I know it is him.  He is always with me.  We are eternal and forever in both directions. We have traveled many times before.  He graduated first.  One day it will be my turn.  We are not finished.  We have work to do on earth.  And, he will be back.  I know he feels me too and ‘hears’ this message.  I can talk to him anytime. Thank you Dad, for all the loving, simple, laughing and compassionate moments. Next time, DQ is on me!

Inspired Wellness Within

Cathrine Silver, HC, AADP

CathysilverHealth@gmail.com

Biological Decoding, Family Constellations, Hypnosis, Nutrition, Spiritual & Grief Counseling

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Death, what do we really know? Who are we? Is it programed within our DNA?

Mom And Carl

Brother and sister together in August

We observe change daily. Our lives are interlocking cycles of change. Are we more connected with the earth and to each other than we consciously know? I like to believe this is so. Like puberty and our reproductive cycles, are souls programed to exit our physical bodies too? A biological time-clock counting down pre-programed, before we arrive in physical form? Simply and beautifully, I liken it to leaves when they detach and are blown off the tree? I promise more lightness next week, but today, I have been thinking about death all day. I was awake a 3, 4 and 5 am. At 5:15 am, I decided to get up and make a cup of coffee.

When I lived in Nacogdoches, I knew a lovely woman from Garrison. One day in conversation she said, that the ‘old timers’ say, when the sap starts to fall many people leave; fall and winter were their busy seasons at the funeral home; that was 15 or more years ago, and I ruminate on that fact today. As I type these thoughts, my phone rings, it is my mother. She has been on my mind all day. I listen for a brief second. She is gripped by pain and grief-stricken; I hear her tears and her muddled words. She tells me her brother has just passed. They were very close. I want to put my arms around her but, she is 3000 miles away.

You do not choose when you are born or when you die, or do you? When I visited Seattle this summer, I spoke with my Uncle. He had had numerous health challenges—but seemed to be handling them in stride and his attitude with me was positive. One comment, however, even today, sticks in my mind. He said, “I told Doc Smith, that it was my quality of life that had taken a turn” then he quietly chuckled—he wasn’t happy about his new regiment of chemo. . . I bit my lip and just listened.

So, here we are three months later and I wonder. It takes nine months for a soul to arrive by birth—is that the preparation time? Does it take approximately nine months for a soul to transition out of this realm and back into another dimension where I believe we exist as pure energy and light and is truly our home? And, because of our modern societies fear and lack of understanding about this transition process, do we miss what our loved ones are really trying to tell us? And, the call to go or the call to come, are they really one and the same? At what moment do we innately know and hear that call? Uncle Carl was 85. Are souls like leaves when they detach and are blown off the tree by the wind? Are we really more like the wind— influenced by some “magnetic indicator” with a set-point? Sometimes a gentle breeze takes our leaves, bark, flowers and branches, and other times, it is more gale like forces that moves with voracious appetite and intention, sometimes even creating hurricanes of tremendous pressure, force and destruction with great suddenness. Are we the wind?

Or are we really more like light and color? Beautiful and yet undefinable by our consciousness? Are we like individual LED lights that light up the universe or like lightening bugs on a warm summer eve?
The enigma between life and more life?  Seen and unseen? What awaits on the other side of this veil? Our bodies attached to our soul and to our physicality; the inner and outer, earth and heaven, time and space to which we are tethered for a moment?

Most leaves fall in the autumn, but some like the live oak and madrona release their leaves all year? Is there a magnetic message tied and programed to our DNA that sends a message and our call to leave? Is it the same one that calls the birds to fly south and the whales to migrate thousands of miles away and animals to have innate knowledge of their own world?  Is it the same ‘voice’ calling to us one by one? Does our soul get this call and pull and lift off one evening propelled by those same cosmic forces? What moves the world outside, moves within me too?

I know we are not simply biology, and we carry within a piece of this sacredness, divinity—a piece of God, and therefore could the instructions be carried in a magnetic portion of our DNA which is hidden and unknown to us? Does this also include our passage into and out of this world? Is it programed with our life lessons—our growth—our healing—and some gift we give to another by our passing. In this case, my Mother. Her heart has opened wide, and just like many events in our lives, we are forever changed—also now programed within our DNA.

I bought a card earlier this week—It said, “When you are born, you are crying while everyone else it smiling. And, when you die, you are smiling while everyone else is crying.” If I have to make up anything, Uncle Carl is smiling—looking down on us all—and I hear him utter these words—“you are so right”. God Bless, you are dearly loved.

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