My dad died one month ago. His death came less than a week after having a massive stroke, which left him in a state where he was unable to speak, and significantly impacted one side of his body. I feel 100% at peace with where my dad’s soul is now – which is, incidentally, also completely at peace. Actually, he’s pretty stoked to be where he is – being cleared of all fears, worries, and concerns. And, after all, he is now aware of how time passes differently for us here: what feels like a long time here is not really long at all in the grand scheme of things. We will meet again.
I feel called to share with you my experience of the last few days of his life (during this lifetime, anyway) and his soul’s transition, or crossing over. And he is encouraging me to share it.
Let’s rewind about 5 weeks. I live in a different city from my parents: a plane ride or a 12+ hour drive away. Once I learned the severity of my dad’s condition, I immediately booked a flight. I also tuned in to him to see what was happening, spiritually. Although not physically present with him yet, I saw him in the hospital bed, flanked by two of his guides – one on either side of him, near his head.
I did much automatic writing during that time: the night before I left, on the flight, and each night. I asked for messages from my guides, Lord of the Akashic Records, Archangel Metatron – about how he was doing. I wrote so much during this time. I will share with you a few excerpts of the messages that I received throughout this post. Here are some of the messages I received in confirmation of his guides being with him: ‘He is comforted right now by his guides. They are near his head and holding his hands. They are the epitome of comfort.’
I also saw a silver dragon supporting him from behind the hospital bed, who stayed there the entire time. Dragons are beings that bring light and cleansing and support from the astral realm. Their power is infinite. They are pure and universally supportive.
Thankful for the spiritual work that I have done in recent years, I worked hard before I even arrived in-person at the hospital, to make sure his soul and his human form were as comfortable and comforted as possible. That didn’t make it easier or less sad to know he was in such a condition, but on another level it made me feel useful, at a time when one can feel so helpless.
Having never had occasion to visit someone in such a state of illness before, let alone that someone being a person who had been the pillar of physical strength, sparkle, support, and such joy in my life – I was initially startled to see him so weak, his body so impacted by the stroke. However, in the few days I visited him, I became more accustomed to it. Our bond was ever-present and unmistakable.
Dad could not speak, but was aware we were in the room, and could understand us. He could make an ever-so-subtle nod or shake of the head to indicate a yes or no. I held his hand tightly, and he squeezed it back – something I took great comfort in. Holding Dad’s hand was something I hadn’t done since I was a child.
Though I have been a reiki practitioner for four years, only once before had Dad received any reiki healing, from me or anyone else. Living in different cities provided a common challenge to the belief system: doubt about the benefit of distance sessions, where physical distance between client and practitioner – either by preference, or by necessity – prevents an in-person session. Distance sessions are just as powerful – and can be more impactful – than an in-person session. In any case, about 6 weeks prior during my previous visit, I created an opportunity to give him a 20min in-person reiki session. This put him into such a relaxed state he fell asleep for several hours. Although I didn’t hear much about it from him directly, I learned he really enjoyed it, that he’d felt incredibly relaxed, and that he’d shared his experience with friends and family.
Since I knew he’d had one positive reiki experience, I offered him reiki during each hospital visit in those last few days. I got a little nod each time I would ask, and went on to allow healing to come through my hands for as long as I was there. I would hold his right hand with one hand, and place my other hand on his head or shoulder. So much heat came through my hands, at times the amount of heat became uncomfortable for him, signaling the need to shift my hand placement.
Logistics prevented long visits on my first two days. While I tried to remain in a state of allowing and accepting that all was well, I still harboured a deep concern I couldn’t seem to shake: that he might be feeling lonely in his hospital room when we were unable to be there with him, and that perhaps time was dragging on for him, unable to speak or clearly share what he needed or wanted. It upset me greatly when I was not there, as I presumed that at least the presence of loved ones would make things a bit better. I continued to seek guidance and support from my spiritual team in the astral realm every moment that I could. The key message that I received around whether he was lonely: ‘No. This time and duration that feels like a long time to you – he will not feel so. Time is not passing for him as it is for you.’
When not at the hospital, I spent much of my time connecting my higher self to his soul, to relay to him that he is not alone, that his guides and angels and archangels love him and are with him, and that there is nothing to fear about death. I urged him to feel comfortable crossing over to the astral realm when the time was right, and asked the angel who helps souls cross over to assist him when he was ready. I asked all angels and guides with Dad’s highest good as their intention – to help put him at ease.
As an empath, I sensed that Dad may have still had some fear of death, of that unknown. Without judgment, I acknowledge that death was something we didn’t really talk about in our family. I think this is common in many families. Most people, in general, avoid talking about it. And if one does speak of it, whatever is said is often described as morbid or depressing, and the conversation is quickly shifted to something deemed more light and positive.
Holding onto a fear of death can hold souls back from crossing over into the light, to the astral realm. Not crossing over can result in souls being stuck here, hanging around in an in-between form on earth, until they are identified and can receive assistance from someone who is able to help them cross. Being here is not so much fun for them in that state, and, although usually unintentionally, it can cause problems for those of us still living in our human form, as well; so it is best for them to cross over right away.
I asked for permission from Dad’s higher self to go into his akashic records to check for any fears, beliefs, or patterns of thinking (from this lifetime and others) that he may have had around death, and was able to clear them. That night, I asked for messages around any residual fear he may have: ‘There is no fear in him now. You have asked and we have comforted and confirmed. You need not fear tonight. All unfolds as it is meant to for everyone’s highest and greatest good.’
The third night, after having spent a long day with him in the hospital, bedtime and sleep didn’t come until around 12:30am. I woke up at 3:45am, though not really surprised, as my sleeping had been intermittent in recent nights. My mind awake and active, I laid in bed and began considering what it would be like to assist Dad’s soul in crossing over when he was ready. Again, I asked the angel that helps souls cross over to be ready when he was ready. I envisioned this angel, Dad’s soul, my soul, and a multitude of other guides and angels with him, showing Dad the way for his soul to cross over. Although the scene was clear in one sense, the images were not well defined. All of our souls appeared like small blobs of light, sending Dad off toward a larger area of light.
The next thing I knew, it was 5am, and the phone rang: the hospital was calling to let us know that Dad had just passed away a short while ago. Shocked, and sad, and yet grateful to know that he was at peace – I joined my family as we immediately drove to hospital. The car ride was quite quiet, and I spent time in awe considering that I had been involved in his soul’s transition to cross over. This gave me some peace and a sense of having been of service. We went in and were able to see his body in the hospital – another first for me as I had never seen a dead body before. However, the feeling of immense peace stayed with me. I was surprised at how peaceful he looked, actually, and I also knew that he was absolutely OK, and in spirit form; Dad was no longer in that body, anyway, the vessel he had used in this lifetime.
For a millisecond I considered: did I cause him to die sooner because of my envisioning him crossing over? But this concern was very fleeting, as I had an overarching, calm sense or “knowing,” that I couldn’t have actually influenced or hastened it. I just helped facilitate what was ready to happen. This was Dad’s exit point from this lifetime. I will always be grateful I was able to serve him by helping him to feel comfortable with the transition. Interestingly, a little later I reread my automatic writing from several days prior. Even days prior (all days had blurred by this point) I had been concerned that my focus on him crossing over was in some way hastening his exit. Although I hadn’t asked a direct question, my guides knew my concern, and I had written the following that came through: ‘By considering his crossing over to the light, you are not hastening its time. You are beautiful in your consideration and care of his transition. Do not fault yourself for this caring.’
A little later in the morning after he transitioned, not obtuse to the fact that I was overtired, I doubted my spiritual abilities, and even doubted what had happened with the transition earlier in the morning. So I asked several close friends to check in on whether Dad had indeed crossed over. One said she had also woken up in the middle of the night herself, feeling the need to assist with the transition. She confirmed he had crossed over, and that we had both helped – we were two of the blobs of light. She relayed a beautiful message about his status, she said: ‘I get the sense that he sees the magic now.’ Another friend, also aware of Dad’s condition, had been woken up in the morning as well, knowing something had shifted. Within those first two days after his transition, two other friends – also able to connect in with ease to the astral realm (interestingly, none of these friends had ever met Dad) – had offered to check in on him and were able to relay confirmation that he had indeed crossed over and was doing well. [I am so grateful for these and other beautiful souls who have supported me so much in these last 5 weeks – and always.]
While I am not able to connect with Dad frequently to receive messages yet, I know he’s wrapping up a period of release of all the protective layers and worries from his lifetime on earth – a deprogramming of sorts, and adjusting to being in the astral realm. I have received one clear message from him so far, though. As though seeing him sitting at the back of a big classroom, he looked back over his shoulder toward me, a big smile, sparkly eyes, saying joyfully, incredulously: ‘Geez if I’d have known all this I never would have worried about anything! There’s no sense worrying Carla. Let it all go.’ I asked: Shall I share this story of these last few days of your life, your transition? – ‘Yes! Tell people about it. And don’t worry about what anyone thinks about any of it. You’ve gotta tell people!’ What about helping people go through loss, Dad? And helping others transition? – ‘Yes!! All of it – yes! If you can think it, do it, don’t let fear hold you back!’
I am grateful to have had this experience, and to have been able to put it together in a way that I can share it with you. I hope you are able to take something useful and loving out of this, yourself.