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A Perspective on My Nephew's Death

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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.

Yellow Flowers

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 closer.

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.

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 10:35 AM
I don't know if she or you were looking for feedback on this or not. But...

It was odd to read this story...the whole subjective reality combined with my name being the same of your nephew's, it felt like I was reading about my own mother writing about me.

I think shes able to cope so well because (it sounds like) shes on a higher level of consciousness. It's a lot easier to control emotions when you are.

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 10:51 AM
Tyler, Thank you for reading and responding!
If people want to give feedback, I'm totally open to it, but it's not necessary. I just thought the writing was so beautiful, I wanted to share it.

I did change his name. His name isn't really Tyler, it just popped into my head. I don't know anyone by that name. When I asked my sister for permission, I told her I'd change his name for anonymity. But I'll bet that was strange for you to read.

My sister has always been what people called 'out there'. I'm honored to be in her realm of influence. She wrote another 'book' to me today. It's one of her coping mechanisms. She's still doing well. Above all emotions, she feels love. That's what's getting her through.

Thanks again for your response.


posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 03:57 PM
Benevolent Heretic, my deepest condolences and sympathies to you, your sister, brother-in-law, family, and friends. Your sister sounds like quite an intelligent lady like yourself and I will keep all of you in my prayers.

"Tyler" is in Eternity with God.

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 04:11 PM
Benevolent,I am really sorry to hear this. We never know when it is our time. All I can say is that he no longer has to worry about the trouble with and of this world any longer. My deepest and sincerest condolences do go to your family... God bless

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 04:38 PM
I am sorry to hear of this BH, but at least one day you will meet again, know that you are never forever parted.

And at least you have your lovely dogs to comfort you.

And if this post seems weird, pathetic etc, it's because I'm terrible at finding suitable words for this sort of thing.

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 04:52 PM
Thank you all for your words. They mean a lot to me. I know it's hard to "say the right thing", but I assure you, I appreciate anything you say.

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 06:27 PM
I just wanted to add this picture that was made in honor of my nephew. The letters stand for something but the picture is what's really important. One of the "A"s stands for Angel...

posted on Feb, 15 2007 @ 08:20 PM
That is a beautiful Image BH. The chains are off and your beloved nephew is flying to his next place of touching hearts and loving those around him. My stepson, who is my only son is named Tyler also. My heart goes to you and your family.

Love and light to you and your family your friend, Brian

posted on Feb, 16 2007 @ 12:30 AM
Just wanted to say sorry for the loss to you and your family. I know how close a nephew can be. I have two right now and I love them as if they were my own. That was a great story, thank you for posting it. I believe if they can a spirit will come back to show there love, to help those they left behind until the day the will be reunited.

PS From what you have said in other threads I just want to say I think you are great. I hope you and especially your sister can continue to heal.

posted on Feb, 17 2007 @ 01:46 PM
Thank you all.

Here is another excerpt from my sister, for those who might find it interesting.

My daily tears are feeling like a therapeutic, cleansing wash, and are always accompanied by a resulting expansion in my consciousness. There's sadness still, but just short-lived and fleeting. Mostly the tears are for the intensity of the love, the hugeness of the connection I have with my beloved Tyler, which only seems moreso as he has entered into his new perspective.

Last night, I got a strong feeling of deja vu. It was me and Tyler in the same juxtaposition as we are right now, me here under the veil, longing for him as he swooped and glided around me in a discarnate state. I quickly realized that it was when I was pregnant with him. Oh, what a beautiful time that was! Who knew we would be repeating this dynamic at a different time, in a different way, after the joys of sharing our most recent incarnate experience together? The idea of this repeat of something we've done before is giving me a lot of assurance and peace.

Yesterday, as I sat in my recliner reading, my attention kept being undeniably drawn to the couch beside me. My vision seemed to be fluctuating between seeing the flat cushion and an indentation. Then I realized it was because Tyler was in the room and was sitting on the couch. When he used to visit, we would always sit here together just like that and talk. It was usually before anyone else woke up and it was just me and him.

When he was single and visited alone, the talks we had were pretty spiritually deep, but I noticed that over the last couple of years, he was not able to go to the deep spaces that I always loved to explore with him. He seemed more distracted as time went on, preferring to just keep things more surfacy and ego-based. I still loved to talk with him, but things had gotten flat.

Yesterday, I was struck with the thought that now we can have those deep discussions again, and we can go as deep as we want because Tyler's now swimming in the beautiful tapestry of the complexities and miracles of life. He's beyond the veil and has an endless panorama of spiritual impulses to send my way.

Tyler always loved to come to Sedona. It was his respite from the craziness of Phoenix and his life there. It always seemed like a vacation to him. He loved being with me and his step-dad, he loved our sanctuary and our energy. He would always bring music, movies, and stand-up comedy to share with us, because he loved it when we could have a mutual enjoyment of entertainment together. Yesterday, I got the impression that he planned on being here with us a lot because he still loves it here, still wants to visit, still wants to be in our cocoon with us...

Our communication now consists mostly of my talking to him about anything and everything, sort of a stream of consciousness thing. And then if I can calm my chatter enough and slip into the void space between my thoughts, I get impressions from him, sometimes answering a question I'm having, or making some comical comment, using his favorite little one-liners from the past. It mostly comes through in feelings that I can sort of tag words onto, but sometimes I get the actual words.

It's really quite special, and I must give credit to every impulse, sorting out the real from the contrived, the "wheat from the chaff," so to speak. This is so much different than my contacts with my mom and dad after they died, in that those were sporadic and mostly in dreams, and this is an ongoing, day-to-day thing. It's sort of like I now have an angel over my shoulder. I feel it almost constantly. I have to keep remembering that there is no linear time for Tyler now, and the fact that he seems to be spending time with me almost 24-7 does not mean that that's all he's doing or that I'm the only one he's focusing on.

Through my communication with Tyler now, I am feeling so aware and accountable. It's like I can't go spiraling off into rhetoric or any of my "stories" because it immediately registers on his BS meter and I get a feeling of him calling me on it. I can't lie or make stuff up. It's definitely ESP going on here. I'm feeling his thoughts and he's feeling mine, and it's pretty exclusively just about things concerning me and not really others. I know he's contacting others as well, but I can't really pick up on anything specific.

I feel so joyful for his freedom. I think I can sort of vicariously feel my own "heaven on earth" now through my connection with him. It makes me feel more satisfied to be here, to take care of myself more meticulously, to enjoy my body, to live my own life more fully. There seems to be a window of opportunity open to me now, and I intend to take full advantage of it to feel the higher realms through him. He says he doesn't mind being "used" in this way. He says I've always "liked the juice." (That was a line he always used -- I don't know where he got it from, but when I heard it this morning, I "got" what he meant.)

I keep thinking that as this stuff pours out of me, I want to let it flow out to the people that I know are experiencing some sadness and confusion right now through their own processing of Tyler's passing. As all of this is helping me immensely, I keep thinking that it can be helpful to those I love that are still here with me, those that have "ears to hear" my weird, otherworldly approach to, and experience of, life...

posted on Feb, 18 2007 @ 11:17 AM
Just a bit off topic, but isn't it really strange to post all of this here, to let the rest of the world see it?

posted on Feb, 18 2007 @ 01:29 PM
I asked her if she would mind and she said she'd be honored as "she loves getting her stuff out there."

I said in the first post it was with her permission.
I would never do it otherwise.

posted on Feb, 18 2007 @ 01:37 PM
I understand that it's with her permission, but it still seems strange.

posted on Feb, 18 2007 @ 01:46 PM
Well, no doubt it seems strange to some. People deal differently with death.

I lived with my sister when "Tyler" was born. I was in the hospital with her, I took care of him, I took him on his first plane ride to Disneyland. I was his second mother. I saw every phase of his growth. Heard his first word, saw his first steps. I heard about his troubles, helped him learn. He is the closest thing I will ever have to my own human child. I adore him and I always will.

If it's uncomfortable for you, I understand that, but it seems like the most natural thing in the world to me to write here about him and to post my sister's thoughts. Because what has happened is a very spiritual thing. The thoughts my sister is having are very profound. Who knows who is reading this? It just might help someone who is dealing with a similar issue. Who knows?

No, I don't think it's strange at all.

posted on Feb, 18 2007 @ 01:52 PM
It's not uncomfortable to me, just that I suppose the reason it seems strange is that people normally keep this sort of thing to themselves, rather than broadcast it across the web.

posted on Feb, 18 2007 @ 02:17 PM

Originally posted by apex
people normally keep this sort of thing to themselves, rather than broadcast it across the web.

Well, neither my sister nor I are very well-known for being "normal".

And we both see the web as a kind of a model for the Universe in a way. People "broadcast" their prayers, their thoughts, their wishes out into the Universe. People write books for all to read, people broadcast their words over radio channels... I dont see what's so strange about broadcasting our thoughts over the Internet. Even personal thoughts.

After all, every single post here on ATS is someone broadcasting their thoughts. And many times it's the type of information that I would choose to keep to myself.
But others have chosen to share. Look in the Relationship forum.

It takes all kinds, I guess. If my sister and I aren't embarrassed about sharing personal thoughts, I think it's ok.

posted on Feb, 20 2007 @ 09:25 AM
apex, like BH has said, we all deal with death in a different way. It appears to me that BH's sister is taking out the pen and paper to express her thoughts and feelings. I think this a very wise move. Not only is she writing some beautiful material, but in time, she will be so joyed that she can look back to this and see how she felt in the moment. I always think and wonder how I felt in those first few days after the death of a loved one.

Thank you for sharing this with us BH. Her words are truly moving.

Best wishes to you my friend, your family, and may "Tyler" rest in peace.

Forever in my thoughts,

posted on Feb, 20 2007 @ 09:39 AM
I wasn't saying it was a wrong way to do thins, just unusual. It is quite interesting to have such an insight on her feelings, I was just pointing out that it was unusual (to me anyway).

posted on Feb, 20 2007 @ 09:52 AM
I don't think it was implied that you were saying it was wrong. You deem it to be strange, yes, but that is your opinion and indicates that you may deal with death in a different manner.

I personally envy BH's sister for her approach here. Her ability to deal with this, and face it, so quickly after "Tyler's" passing is very rare. From what I can see, she is a very strong woman with an even stronger support system.

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