Recently, a post on Facebook read, "They all died in the end." It made me laugh. I have a morbid sense of humor and have been around a lot of death in my life. It came early and often. Some deaths were sudden, some drawn out, no two the same, except for the fact that in the end, they all died.
My father died twice. The first time he came back to earth, after having explained to his guardian angel that he had children to raise. He recounted the story of his near-death experience with awe, reverence, and sometimes tears. The tale would send us kids into silence, imagining our father conversing with angels.
On Dec. 17, 2011, our father died a second time; this time, his children were raised, and this time, he stayed put.
When my older sister called, I was watching A Dolphin's Tail in a movie theatre. I left the theatre to take her call. My world shattered into a million pieces on the lobby floor as three words ripped through the phone. "Dad is dead."
I'd spend the next few months sweeping up the pieces and sewing myself back together. I walked the world all out of sorts, like a bad Picasso, searching for signs, symbols, and messages from him. One day, I pulled an animal totem card—it was a dolphin. I decided it was a sign, but I wanted more.
James Van Praagh, the spirit whisperer, was coming to Chicago; I was determined to be there and receive a message from my dead father. I believed it was possible, prayed, chanted, and focused on the ideal outcome.
On the day of the event, there was a blizzard. The roads were terrible, and the clock was ticking, telling me this was not an option. Not only would I not get a message, but I would also not even get to the event.
I pulled over and stood on the snowy streets of Chicago, and as I looked up, I saw a sign with a large dolphin and the word Serendipity. I followed the sign, which led me up a flight of stairs to a waiting room. The room was filled with dolphin decorations, paraphernalia, lamps, pillows, and posters. A woman came out of the backroom wearing a turban and asked if she could help me. I stood there, shocked, and asked her what she did. She explained that she was a masseuse.
Okay, my father must want me to get a massage, and in my thirsty little mind, I thought, I am sure this lady will also deliver a message.
Once settled on the table, I heard a voice in my head. It was odd and annoying, repeating, "Who's Ruth? Who's Ruth? Who's Ruth?" I tried to ignore it, but it felt like a swarm of nats. It got more persistent, directing me to ask the masseuse, "Who's Ruth?"
Before this experience, I had never heard voices. I admittedly refused and tried to chase the distracting thought away. I am not going to ask a perfect stranger who Ruth is! I’ll sound like a crazy person.
But when the masseuse asked me to turn over, we made eye contact, and out of my mouth flew the question, "Who's Ruth?"
She looked at me, leaned away, and, after a pause, she answered, "Ruth is my dead sister. Is she here?" I was way outside my pay grade; I had no idea what to tell her, so I told her the truth: "I don't know."
She continued to work on me, but the voice did not let up, and as I closed my eyes, I began to see images of two sisters and child abuse, things I did not want to entertain. I told my mind. "This is not for me." The voice in my head explained that I was allowed to refuse this type of correspondence, but it would be helpful if I delivered a message to this woman that I was to repeat three times.
I sat up and explained to the woman, "I have no idea why this is happening, but I am supposed to repeat something to you three times."
No matter what has happened to your body, it did not affect your soul.
No matter what has happened to your body, it did not affect your soul.
No matter what has happened to your body, it did not affect your soul.
When she finished the massage, she took my hands, smiled, and said, teary-eyed, "I am so happy you came in today. This message has meant everything."
I dressed, left the room, passed through the Dolphin waiting room, and got to the car. This type of experience has never happened again. I don't miss it. It felt uncomfortable and violating. I assume that when I opened myself to receive a message from my father, her sister's spirit jumped in. Maybe my father even gave up his spot. After all, how many dolphins does a daughter need to be reassured of her father's eternal love?
Despite what that Facebook post said, maybe none of them died in the end.
This month, SpeakEasy Spiritual Community's theme is Rest in Peace. We focus on navigating the tough and tender topics of death and grief and honoring our spiritual ancestors.
Death is universal, but how we approach it can take on a thousand forms. To open our awareness and options, we will hear from three Experts who deal with death: Rhea Mader, Todd Fink, and Kate Miller. They will show us what it looks like to rest in peace from the varied vantage points of culture, religion, and philosophy.
Hope to see you there!
Love, Maur
What a compelling story!