![\"\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/222\/2012\/07\/telephone-300x199.jpg\" "\\"telephone\\"")
<\/a>Sometimes I forget what normal is. No matter where I go, where I am, or who I am with, I see (and most of the time communicate with) those that have physically died. I try to bubble myself off with a white light, a shield if you will, so that contact is limited and I am not looking like a lunatic talking to what most people would only see as air, but I see as energy or a spirit. But sometimes the energy\/spirit is strong willed and stubborn and wants that contact. And when they can see that I can see, the avoidance doesn\u2019t just feel rude, it feels sad. How many people can actually see and communicate? How many can give their story to their loved ones? I can and I have taken on the role of being that messenger. What should\u2019ve been a simple hour of time waiting for my son to get a haircut ended up in story time with Phil.<\/p>\nPhil had committed suicide after a painful diagnosis that numbered his life span, and even though he was raised Catholic and had a faith, he didn\u2019t feel as if he could hold on anymore. This was his story that he asked me to share with his family. The girl that was cutting my son\u2019s hair.<\/p>\n
A man frail in body, dying, sad in heart showed me his spirit as he was before he passed away.\u00a0 He said that he needed to say that he was sorry for hurting everybody and causing the difficulties that he did, especially the way that he ended his life.\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t wanted anybody to find him that way, but he didn\u2019t know any other way.\u00a0 He was scared of dying, but he was more scared of living and he didn\u2019t want to burden anybody anymore.<\/p>\n
He showed a darkened room. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding the gun in his hand. He didn\u2019t show me the death (most do), but instead showed me the tension beforehand and then the loud noise that took his physical life. Over and done. What a quick second, he thought, that quick second that ended his life and changed so many.<\/p>\n
He showed himself crying beforehand, taking a deep breath and then crying in spirit afterwards \u2013 surprised by his own actions.\u00a0 He showed that he was grounded, not able to cross over for awhile. His\u00a0purgatory\u00a0was having to watch the anguish his actions effected his kids and other loved ones.\u00a0 The shame, he felt was worse than a physical death, he explained, but he said that he didn\u2019t have the fight in him. He continued to defend his actions by saying that over and over.<\/p>\n
He said that he could see the light, but that he was too exhausted in order to meet the angels, not even half way and so he sat there wondering if he had done the right thing.\u00a0 They called to him.\u00a0 He cried.\u00a0 He saw his loved ones standing there, but felt as if he might not be good enough to be with them or that his judgment might not be one that he wanted to face and would put him in a worse place.\u00a0 Could it be possible that he made a huge error?\u00a0 He said he asked himself that over and over again.<\/p>\n
What seemed like months (but the Guides show as only a week), he finally took the hike to the light.\u00a0 He said that \u2018his love\u2019 was there and when he saw her, he sobbed in her arms.\u00a0 And then it was time for him to be counseled (he removes the word judgment and kept calling it counseling).<\/p>\n
He then showed himself in a good place with his loved ones and his wife.\u00a0 He was in a small, simple home that sat on a crystal lake.\u00a0 He had a flannel shirt on and his spirit looked healthy and happy.\u00a0 He said that he tries to visit, but that everybody on this side is just so stressed that his visits instead induce nightmares that aren\u2019t true visits.<\/p>\n
\u201cMiss, you see me. Please send my love and the message that I am \u00a0proud of everybody. Please tell all the kids that they need to take care of themselves and to please forgive me. Mom and I love them so much.\u201d<\/p>\n
He then shared a message that I thought was the deepest of all, and advice I thought we all need.<\/p>\n
\u201cEnjoy the family.\u00a0 Enjoy life.\u00a0 Enjoy the simple things.\u00a0 Enjoy one another. I am okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
I rarely go up to strangers and offer messages, but he insisted I put my \u00a0magazine down and write a letter to his daughter. With the tip, I handed the letter to her on our way out. Confused with what I gave her, my son and I simply walked to the car, but it was a second later that the hairdresser caught up to me, tears streaming down.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have no idea how much this means to me,\u201d she said, embracing me. \u201cHow can I repay you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cForgive your dad and do as he says,\u201d I said and smiled.<\/p>\n
We all hold on to anger, even with those who aren\u2019t with us physically. They know. They feel. They sense. They see. And they want to be a part of your life, but it is that anger that can cause a fuzz and a bad connection to the telephone line on the Other Side. It can, however, be repaired with some soul searching, but let me tell you that once it is repaired, the phone will keep ringing. And that is a good thing.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sometimes I forget what normal is. No matter where I go, where I am, or who I am with, I see (and most of the time communicate with) those that have physically died. I try to bubble myself off with a white light, a shield if you will, so that contact is limited and I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1109,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[32,33,31,34],"class_list":["post-50","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-crossing","tag-death","tag-purgatory","tag-suicide"],"yoast_head":"\n
Repair Your Connection<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Sometimes I forget what normal is. No matter where I go, where I am, or who I am with, I see (and most of the time communicate with) those that have\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/ahappymedium\/2012\/07\/repairyourconnection\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Repair Your Connection\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Sometimes I forget what normal is. 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<\/a>Sometimes I forget what normal is. No matter where I go, where I am, or who I am with, I see (and most of the time communicate with) those that have physically died. I try to bubble myself off with a white light, a shield if you will, so that contact is limited and I am not looking like a lunatic talking to what most people would only see as air, but I see as energy or a spirit. But sometimes the energy\/spirit is strong willed and stubborn and wants that contact. And when they can see that I can see, the avoidance doesn\u2019t just feel rude, it feels sad. How many people can actually see and communicate? How many can give their story to their loved ones? I can and I have taken on the role of being that messenger. What should\u2019ve been a simple hour of time waiting for my son to get a haircut ended up in story time with Phil.<\/p>\n