posted on Feb, 14 2007 @ 07:22 PM
Monday night, my 29-year-old nephew "Tyler" died. He was my sister's only child. The following was written by my sister this morning. I post it
with her permission.
For those of you who don't know, my son, Tyler died about 9 PM on Monday, February 12, 2007. I was with him.
Yesterday was an endless flush of tears, meditation, and talk. Without my husband right now, I know I would want to die too. We walked and walked
and I just didn't want to let go of his hand. He is a rock for me and for others, and it is almost impossible to shake him from his place of trust
and inner knowing. He reminds me of my dad in this way.
I'm very sad at times, but it is definitely lifting. I had some moments of joy and relief yesterday as well. Tyler is definitely with me and loving
me, caring for me. During one of my inner talks with him, I asked him to show me a sign that he was really here. Within about a minute, I got the
distinct impression of flowers in my mind, not a picture but just the idea. Then it became clear that the flowers were yellow. The words "yellow
flowers" appeared on the screen of my mind, as if they had been spoken or written.
I didn't know what to make of it. I thought maybe I would receive some yellow flowers from someone, or even from an anonymous someone and I would
wonder who sent them.
I hadn't thought that I'd be in a good space for general reading, but at this point, I picked up the fiction book I had been reading called
"Doctor's Daughter," and was glad that I was able to pick up where I left off and start to enjoy it. The old doctor is suffering from dementia in
an elder care home and his daughter visits him and tries to help him remember things. She takes him out for a walk in a wheelchair and they stop at a
bench under some flowering trees. The doctor looks up and says "acacia." The daughter eagerly says, "Yes. Do you remember that we had a pair of
them in the garden at home? They would get yellow flowers every spring."
My heart practically stopped as those words sprung off the page at me. I had no doubt that it was the sign that Tyler had conjured up for me. It
would be just like him to present something so simple and subtle, and so quickly, something that only I could recognize and give credit to. I just
closed my eyes and smiled, thanking him for his gift.
That was about 4 PM and the rest of the day, I felt calmer and at peace. After dinner, my husband played an audio on the computer about the true
nature of consciousness. It was very entertaining and uplifting, even though some of the words were lost because of the guy's heavy Aussie accent.
The talk was based on quantum mechanics and the fact that nothing we see outside of ourselves is actually "real" but merely projections that emanate
from the light of our consciousness. Like images from a projector onto a screen. We get all caught up in the projected images as if they are the
reality, failing to recognize that we're just looking at an intricate play of light waves dancing.
The whole point of the talk was that the only thing that we humans can say for certain about our reality is that we are conscious, we are
experiencers. So when we talk about "I am," and we try to put a noun at the end of the sentence to say "what" I am, all we can really put there
and know for sure is "consciousness." I am consciousness. Period.
As I was getting ready for bed, I realized that at some point, Tyler had decided to focus his consciousness into the body that was growing inside my
womb. Maybe he never intended to stay all that long. But the journey that he took through me and into this world was always his own, and I never had
responsibility for it. I made myself available because I have loved him for eons, and I sheltered, nourished, and guided him for as long as he needed
me, always adoring him and basking in the beauty of the connection and the process. He was my greatest accomplishment in this life, and I'm forever
grateful to him for allowing me to experience him so intimately.
At some point within the last couple of years, I felt Tyler's energy and focus shift. I think a lot of people noticed it. I can't really know what
process he went through spiritually or why, and I don't want to make any judgments concerning his marriage and new family obligations, but it seemed
to me like he started putting up a front of loving his life and being very happy, saying everything was great, when it actually seemed like he had
lost his luster and zest. It was as if he felt he should be happy, and kept saying he was, but was really quite tired of everything and just wanted
to start thinking about checking out.
I do know that when he got his job, he seemed on top of the world, and kept saying so, even though it didn't feel genuine to me. But when he lost
that job, I felt that he sunk to a level of despair that he'd never felt before. I became very concerned for him because it just didn't seem to me
like he was going to be able to bounce back from that one.
Suffice it to say that I have known for a long time that there was something amiss with my happy-go-lucky, carefree, humorous, sweet son, and I feel
that the decision to leave had been made a while ago. I was confused and sad, so I just tried to back up, distance myself, and let him be and do
whatever he wanted and needed to do. I had grown tired of trying to give my advice and help to uplift him. Besides, he never, ever asked for my
help, not up to the last day I saw him conscious.
I truly believe that everything that has happened with Tyler was perfectly choreographed by him and for him on a higher level so that his incarnation
and his body would end and he could remove his focus from it and turn his gaze onto bigger and better things, the likes of which I cannot possibly
know at this point. His ability to quickly and dramatically bring everything to a halt and a turning point just shows me what a powerful, creative
being he is. From my viewpoint, it looks like his mind was made up and he pulled the whole thing off in a span of about two years. As I'm saying
this, I'm feeling him nodding his head and saying, "That's right, Mom, watch and learn!"
My feelings all these years that I have had spiritual understandings that I could share with him and help him cope with his life better are being
turned on their head right now as I realize that I'm really in the presence of a spiritual master, one who may just be able to now help show me the
way. I'm certainly open for this and asking that if that is part of his plan, then show away! My feelings of being "the mother" are now dropping
away and I'm instead feeling like I just may be "the student." God knows he taught me endless amounts of things over his brief life!
So anyway, back to him actually being consciousness, just maybe not having a body now to focus it in, or maybe having an ethereal-type body that I
just can't see, like I have had in my out-of-body experiences. I got a very distinct message last night that as Tyler has removed his conscious
focus from the body that he occupied here, I should now honor him by doing the same.
I know that he wanted cremation, and that may already be arranged or done. His father busied himself at the hospital and took the lead on that part
of the process, so I took the opportunity to leave and allow him and his wife to work out the details. I really don't want to be anywhere near that
body or the disposing of it, or whatever memorial or service may come out of this. I sort of feel like a coward for leaving the scene and allowing
others to take care of things, but it seems to be something that I am absolutely unable to do. I justify it by saying to myself that I carried the
body for nine months inside me, so now it's his father’s turn to "do the honors." Sick, huh?
I know Tyler's actual discarding of that body came probably about the time that he was put on the respirator, hours before it actually stopped
working through artificial means. The hour that my husband and I sat with him watching that machine breathe for him, I never felt like he was there
in it. He was hovering. I saw him flutter near the ceiling out of the corner of my eye as a white filmy ribbon that disappeared when I tried to look
I keep getting sidetracked here. The point of this is that I feel that Tyler has asked me to remove my focus from his discarded body, and the brain
and ego that he used, so that I can be with him as he is now and I can know in my heart that all is well. This means taking the pictures off the wall
and putting them away, which I did last night before I got into bed. I don't feel this is a denial in any way, but it is sort of an honoring of the
healing nature of remaining in the present and what is happening now.
Of course, my ego is having a fit. I'm supposed to be sad and morose now, aren't I? I'm supposed to spend some time, a respectable amount of
time, in grief and despair. Well, although I'm crying my eyes out and not able to go to work, I'm not feeling morose, and the sadness is lifting
dramatically. I have been amazed at how level I am feeling, and I'm allowing the wonder and the joy of it to seep in and take residence in me. If I
allow grief to reside inside me, there will be no opening or room for the joy of the miracle of transformation, both his and mine.