The Thing We Forget About Death: Healing Through the Loss of a Loved One

There have been a number of beautiful humans within my circle who've lost someone they love over the last few weeks. From friends to family on both sides, there have been many deaths that resulted in me reflecting upon this concept once again. Woven within all of the aching, all of the pain, is something so deeply beautiful... the thing we forget about death.

We are taught to look at death as the end. The end of a physical existence. The end of a life. The end of a journey in this human form. The dictionary even defines death as "the end of the life of a person or organism". But what if we've been taught to view death through a limited lens? Like a pair of glasses that is scratched and scuffed, only allowing our eyes to see a small portion of the bigger picture.

What if we choose to see death as a transition? It's likely if you've ever experienced the passing of someone close to you, you understand this truth. The physical body may die, yes. Yet the spirit continues on into an existence unknown. This unknown can be interpreted in many ways, depending on how you you were raised and what spiritual wisdom you've chosen to seek out. Some believe this is where you are welcomed into "heaven" or "hell". Some believe your spirit may journey through another life to learn and ascend spiritually through reincarnation. Some believe your spirit is dispersed among the physical forms of life that your cells give new life to. Some embrace a combination of these while understanding that there is much we don't understand about death.

So what DO we understand about death?

I was struck by the news of a distant family member passing recently. My body jolted as this was shared with me, and I instantly was aware of how much I'd been thinking of her during the time she likely crossed over. My grandfather's cousin's wife... a woman who I'd met but a small handful of times yet her impact was profound.

When I was only a tender age of four or five, my dad hurt his back severely. I recall being vividly aware of the situation as this dedicated farmer who never let anything slow him down was completely bed-ridden. This happened to occur when my grandfather's cousin and wife were up in Iowa visiting family, and they stopped over to see how they could help. I was instantly entranced with this woman I'd never met and sat at her feet as she shared stories of her native ancestry. Then she did something I was certain was magic.

Completely captivated, I watched as she lay her hands on my dad. I saw the energy swirl through and around them in a way I'd never seen before. Vibrant colors of the rainbow danced and I was certain this incredible woman with such intriguing stories, tan skin, and bold jewelry was magic.

This memory came back into my awareness a few years back, when in Sedona, Arizona with a dear friend. I was feeling my grandfather's spiritual presence and followed the intuitive nudge to reach out to his beloved cousin. Unbeknownst to myself at the time, his cognition had begun deteriorating and this magical woman of my childhood answered.

"Hello? Hi... I'm..." I stammered, half-expecting her to not even remember me.

"I'm Ashley, Andy and Donna's granddaughter. Randy and Deb's girl. You might not..."

"Ohhh! Ohhh my dear, yes!!! You were the sweet little blonde girl always flipping about! Ohhh, how good to hear from you!" she exclaimed with remembrance.

A wide grin spanned my face, because if anyone were to remember me as a child that would be a good description of my dancing and tumbling self. I felt my nerves settle at the tone of warmth and love in her voice. I knew I could share my experiences without holding back.

I brought up sensing my grandfather's spirit, and felt that he and my grandmother had many joyful trips to that area of the country. She laughed and recounted what fun they always had together, and how much they'd meant to her. She paused for a moment when I overheard a male voice in the background, and I heard her explain to her husband who was on the phone.

"Well, tell her to come with what she's got on!" I heard him tell her.

She chuckled and explained, "He's saying you're welcome to come anytime... his memory and words aren't always right anymore but we know what he means."

We went on to discuss what I remembered of her from childhood and how she opened my tender eyes to what I would eventually learn and practice, energy work. She gasped, sharing of the tears coming to her eyes.

"I have a question for you, my dear Ashley. When you look at trees..."

My own tears began to flow as a full body chill ran from head to toe despite the hot Arizona sun. I already knew where she was headed with this question. For I, too, see the auras of the trees.

She went on to share of those within her ancestry who had healing gifts and how this conversation came in perfect timing, as she was needing to be reminded of her own. And her loving validation of the gifts I'd grown up to believe were merely a figment of my imagination was exactly what I needed as well.

We weren't close in relation or proximity, and were but a blip in the expanse of one another's lives. Yet our connection mattered. As do yours.

We know that when death occurs, its shakes us up a bit. It makes us pause and reflect upon our lives, the moments that matter most, and that which can be released to make way for greater joy. Yet what carries on is this connection.

If you're a friend whose loved one has crossed over recently (or another wave of grief has crashed upon the shores of your heart), never forget that their spirit lives on. Inside of you with your cherished memories, lessons learned, and the way you choose to live with greater intention. All around you as you seek peace and understanding. And through you as you embody both within your own life.

Their body may be no longer, but their soul is infinite.

My friend, so is yours.

Love & Healing,

Ashley Kay