Insights and Answers: Dec/Jan 2003

by Rachel Rowlson, CCSW, LMFT, CHT

Dear Readers: My father died Thanksgiving Day, 1999. Easter week of 2000, he began a series of letters to me about his dying and life after death. Some of these letters have been published both in this magazine and on my web site. For the past six months, Dad has been encouraging my mother, who is still alive but suffering from senile dementia, to begin writing to me about her dying process. My father's mind was sharp until his death, but his body slowly deteriorated for many years. My mother has a strong body, but her mind has been slipping away for several years now. The following is one of the first of her series of letters written from the level of her higher self. She plans to write to me from time to time until after her death.

Many of us have family members suffering from loss of mental capacity as they age. While my mother's letters are her personal experience, I am hoping they give insight and comfort to any of you with similar concerns.

Dear Rachel: Please do not be so sad for me. Losing my ability to think clearly is a choice I made on the subconscious level. Yes, all the secondhand smoke from your father's cigarettes was a contributing factor, but what is happening to me is much more complicated than the breakdown of my brain. I am choosing to spend most of my time on the other side of the veil. My attachment to my physical form is weak. Only a sliver of light holds me in the physical realm. I tug and I tug, but I cannot get that chord to let go.

When I'm trying to contribute by doing household chores, I get embarrassed that I cannot remember how to accomplish the most simple of tasks. The part of me left in my body gets very frustrated because it is not aware that the rest of me is distracted by the wonders and joys of life on the other side of death.

I guess I feel guilty about leaving. I have not held the family together like my mother and her mother did. I am afraid that you children will lose touch with my brother's family in Australia after your Aunt and I are gone. I worry that our family history will not be important to your children and their children. Who are we if we fade from your memory? Not that it really matters so much that you remember us; it is more that I am not fulfilling the role that mothers have held in our family for many generations. I am stuck emotionally and literally.

I would never consciously choose to become the burden I am to you and your sister, but when I am expanded past my body, I realize that my lapses are a physical problem caused by fear. The fear is not of dying-I lost that fear after my near-death experience when I was 24 years old-but of continuing to live with my emotions. The wonderful thing about living in the moment is that I cannot hold onto my pain. I watched my grandmother and my mother outlive all their friends and loved ones and most of the next generation also. I did not want that to happen to me, but it has. My grief is overwhelming.

Although I cannot hold a train of thought for long while in my body, I find my soul has a much larger capacity to understand my surroundings and has many more types of intelligence. My body is stuck on Earth, but the rest of me is having a wonderful time reuniting with old friends and exploring new worlds. The lure to this side of the veil is very strong. Love is abundant here. Colors and sounds are much more vibrant than on Earth. I absorb knowledge as easily as drinking water. It is so much easier to learn when we don't have a brain to interfere and make us process everything in a linear fashion.

Your father and I are together again as often as we choose. We like to go back to Hawaii and play with the nature spirits there. With just a thought, I can be with my mother and my cousins, or I can visit the many schools available to me now. After I die, I will meet with my spirit guides and pick which school or lesson plan I want to follow next. In the meantime, I am doing my best to let go of my body and be fully present to death.

I love you, Mom

Rachel Rowlson integrates 20 years experience as a psychotherapist with a lifetime of training in metaphysical concepts and healing modalities in her work as a healer and intuitive counselor as well as in her writing and workshops. Send questions to 109 Breakers Place, Cary, NC 27511. They will only be answered in this column and may take several months to be printed.