Papa, Can You Hear Me?

Papa, Can You Hear Me?

 
O God, Our Heavenly Father,
O God, and my father Who is also in heaven.
May the light of this flickering candle illuminate the night the way Your Spirit illuminates my soul...
— Yentl
 

There is nothing quite like the liquid voice of Barbra Streisand to touch emotions and our hearts. Here in the movie Yentl, she sings to her God in the heavens and to her own father who recently died and who is also in heaven.

A Father And A Daughter

For a daughter whose papa has passed on, this song is perfumed with the father-daughter love they shared and her longing to still be connected with him. If only he could hear her and offer his advice.

Yentl prays in the forest with nature surrounding her, and reaches out to the stars twinkling above her. A good reminder for us to turn to nature in our difficult moments.

Be still and listen to the heavens.

 
Papa, how I love you,
Papa, how I need you,
Papa, how I miss you kissing me good night...
 

The Radiance Technique® Supports Your Grief

All of our emotions, not just the happy ones, are part of the kaleidoscope colors of our lives – exploding colors that are always changing as they vary in shape and hue.

With The Radiance Technique® (TRT®), we are full participants in the colorful dance. With our use of TRT® hands-on, we are able to bring increased light to both the joys and the sorrows of our lives.

Even when life remains broken around us, we can support ourselves as we walk through the jagged parts.

Apply TRT® hands-on whenever you find yourself in times of grief or loss.

Does it make the loss go away? No.

Rather, you have a tool that helps you with love and healing. Deep from within, you bring the vibration of comfort and wholeness to yourself and to the situation.

Tears will flow and your tears can be filled with shimmering, healing light.

 

 

Rest In Peace Or Dancing With The Stars

Rest In Peace

R.I.P. – Requiescat in pace

 
Rest in Peace – Latin: Requiescat in pace
... is a short epitaph or idiomatic expression wishing eternal rest and peace to someone who has died.
 

Something we say when someone dies, but is this really what we want for them?

I understand what we mean – we wish for them to not have regrets, to not be tormented by difficulties and darkness, to be free of struggles.

However, maybe we shouldn't rest. Maybe it's time to do just the opposite.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Starry Sky

With a bow to Dylan Thomas in his poem Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night, I'd like to say, don't rest in peace. Do not go gentle into that starry sky.

Live it up.

Hoot and holler. 

Fly, be free. Soar into the cosmos with your heart leading the way.

It's time to kick up your heels now that the burden of this physical form is lifted.

The Journey Of Aging

I said goodbye to my dad in May of 2012.

He died of "natural causes" – an aging body with a heart that failed to beat one more time.

Dad on ice skates in his youth

His youthful body was handsome, strong and healthy. He was naturally athletic – snow and water skiing came easily to him in his youth. He was a member of a ski and figure skating club. 

He knew the difference between the inside and outside edge of a blade and bemoaned the elimination of compulsory figures in the ice skating competitions.

A gifted dancer, my mother and he won more than one dance contest. He was also a fly fisherman, one of the inspired ones who tie their own flies.

That vibrant physical form had been exchanged for a stooped and frail one.

We said our farewells to him as his 89 year old body succumbed to respiratory and congestive heart failure and kidney failure.

A natural cycle of life, they say.

He suffered the aches and pains of aging and its limitations of movement with great patience and little complaint. In his last year, he required continuous oxygen. The oxygen generator in the house was noisy, the tank he had to carry when he went out was bulky and awkward. He didn't like lugging it around. All because of the heinous asbestos he was exposed to at his job. 

He worked hard all his years, always bringing home the paycheck and taking good care of his family. As a GS civilian in the naval shipyard, he fully earned his government retirement. He was an engineer for the life-support systems on nuclear submarines and would go to sea to perform ship checks. 

By the time we became aware that the nastiness of asbestos was to blame for his damaged lungs, it was far too late to do anything about it or to get compensation. Many have paid this exorbitant price in silence.

Rest In Peace – What Do We Know

I was with him in the hospital as he lifted out of his physical form.

I couldn't see the road in front of him.

You'd think that being right there, I would have a glimpse of something beyond. As if I should be afforded a peek past the partially opened door.

It didn't work that way.

I mentioned to my dad, as the time of his departure drew near, that I'd like to get an email from him from the other side. Our eyes met and we paused. We grinned at each other just at the thought of it.

To tell the truth, I was only slightly kidding. An email any day now would be great.

Dancing With The Stars

He took his last breath.

His heart willed one last beat.

A moment of complete stillness.

Almost a sound, but not a physical sound, and his spirit lifted up and away.

Fast.

Faster than anything we can imagine.

Did I perceive a final goodbye, even a thank you?

Imperceptible. At the edge of awareness.

Slowly, the heat in his body began to dissipate, the fire within his cells became tiny embers and then disappeared until no warmth was left.

Where To Now?

I imagine he must have felt a lightening of his load. The shackles of gravity were broken, the oxygen tank tossed aside. He was free now.

They say we are star stuff.

We come from the stars. The molecular bits that make up our bodies also make up the stars. In a sense, we are fiery stars.

I don't think my dad is resting. I like to think he is laughing and dancing with the stars.