The Survivor.
We live the true definition of surreal. Shock, at learning the news of our loved one’s passing. We are on autopilot for however long initially.
The survivor experience begins and continues in the why of it. It is a grief process of waxing and waning “in the why”. Different for us with sudden death than it is when a loved one dies from long illness. Although, both experiences then become similar at times in the grieving process.
People come to me with a preconceived, and probably cultural expectation/pressure, of getting over grief. “Will I ever get over it?” “Do I get over it?” And then they feel shame at the thought of getting over their loved one. But I reassure them that grief is not a thing that we get over. Grief is simply learning to live each day without our loved one sharing physical space with us in this world, like how it used to be when he/she was “alive”.
Sudden Death.
Sudden death is on his way home from work, calling “what do you want from the store?” and then you never hear the garage door open, the dog long-stares out the window waiting…
Sudden death is the doorbell ringing at the dark hour and a uniformed notification officer and chaplain waiting for you to open the door to them, the news already spoken before they speak.
Sudden death is accidental overdose.
Accidental death.
He/she does not plan to die. It isn’t their intention to to leave us. It is just as devastating a shock for them, as it is for us. I was aware of this shared experience—shared between survivor and deceased—for a number of years: that the shock is so jarring and catastrophic, many loved ones who die abruptly go through a needed transition time. Other mediums have written about it, describing it in books, blogs, interviews and in their public speaking.
Similar paths…I will share my journey that unfolds daily, as it may help you along yours.
George Whitworth Howard, IV.
I write through the lens of my Christianity, and the heart-soul of my spiritual being.
Worth, as he was known to friends and family (George, as he was known to co-workers) was my older cousin-brother. He passed unexpectedly on Sunday, May 2, 2021, of an accidental overdose.
Our spiritual journey is that: a journey. Not an event. I prefer to use the naming process of “passed” instead of “dead” because the dying, whether ready or not, pass or transition from the physical binds to that of the spiritual. It is a passing from here to there.
The same way we are born, when we die, we simply know how to do it. Like walking through the doorway from one room into another. We transition from one place of familiarity into another space of familiarity.
The term dead, connotates no longer alive; deceased; expired; no longer existing; absolute extinction; no longer having significance or relevance. Dead is merely a term-life of this body but that is all. Only the body dies. This is not our spiritual journey.
Our spiritual journey is but a continuation. It is just like the perennial plant that appears to die to the cold of early winter, and all the while roots live beneath the permafrost, springing forth once again in the seasons of change.
This photo was taken a long time ago. It was before his back injury that happened while he worked at the airline, and I assume, before his effortless descent into pain pill use…the coroner said it was the fentanyl and Acetyl fentanyl that killed him by accidental overdose.
Since his passing, we sometimes meet together in my meditation time. He is in transition and doesn’t completely realize he has passed. I am happy now to know that he no longer has any back pain. He told me so.
How I Experience the Psychic.
I do not like labels. As a therapist, I often tell my clients that a diagnosis is only necessary as it is a language of communication between myself and their insurance company or other medical provider. Otherwise, I caution against attaching oneself too tightly to a label, because that which we believe—we become…or rather we become more of it.
So I have avoided using particular terminology or words to describe how I relate to people, and prefer to look at it as just me and my style of interaction. I can tell you, I am confident that the following terms (next paragraph) have aided me on my path of service for others by relating to them with great empathy and understanding of the larger, LARGER, picture…supporting and teaching others in their life journey.
Psychic terminology and labels aside, it is through my Christian faith that God has guided me to be of service. It has been my prayer since I was a child that I be an instrument of God’s peace.
The way I experience people who have passed and people living is through the “clairs” (haha): clairaudience, claircognizance, clairvoyance, and clairsentience. I am a mental and physical medium. (Admittedly, I don’t really like the physical medium aspect.)
This is the first time I have publicly written about this, and am finally doing so (it has long time been pressed upon me by God) with the recent passing of my cousin-brother and our current conversations. As far as I can recall, my medium insights began when I was a toddler.
Our First Conversation.
“Mina? Get over here. I think Worth has killed himself…there’s blood.” My aunt called me at 1:16 in the afternoon on Sunday May 2nd, 2021. It was a 17 second conversation, “I’m on my way.”
WHY, WHY, WHY? I spoke aloud bending towards the floor with tears.
It’s about five miles to drive to their house (Worth and my aunt, age 87, lived together). I took slow breaths and focused on keeping to the driving rules of speed and stop signs.
Half way there while driving, he spoke to me in my “mind’s ear” and my spiritual heart. I didn’t mean to do it, he said.
Okay, okay, I told him. But also I’m wondering how is this suicide not an accident?
…As the death certificate revealed weeks later, he died by accidental overdose of fentanyl and Acetyl fentanyl.
Seeing Him Later That Evening.
In quiet meditation, I am with him in their family room. (I didn’t set out to meet with Worth, it just happened.)
My experience: visual, audible, tactile. It is not quite like the solidness of “real life”.
All the Free Mountain Dew Refills He Wants!
Bright sunshine lights the room from windows and doors behind me where I sit. It is their family room and Worth is sitting in a chair across the room facing me.
“Hi!” I say, happy to see him. He smiles back.
“Hey Mina.” His voice had that usual slight chuckle to it.
“Have you seen Mia?” I asked. (Mia is my cousin/his sister who died last January of 2020.)
Worth paused and seemed confounded, perplexed. “No, no. She’s, she’s—”
“She passed. She died.” I said to him.
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
Then I had this epiphany that hit me like a ton of bricks—he didn’t know he was dead! Of course, I realized, so when someone dies unexpectedly or tragically, they are in a transition of awareness to accept that they have died. This is unlike when someone dies after a long illness or has awareness to come to grips with dying…that person might not take a transition experience. It’s not necessary.”
So how’s your back pain?” I asked him. He’d been dealing with degenerative disc disease for probably over twenty years.
He smiled and made this satisfying expression that was unique to him, kind of like an imagine that, “I don’t have any back pain.”
“What’s it like here?” I asked.
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” He replied. So there was some awareness he had that he had passed, or that things were different.
Our visit together ended after his last declaration: “I can tell you one thing. I get all the free Mountain Dew refills I want.” He gave a nod of his head and a little impish grin. He loved his Mountain Dew.
Another Family Room Visit.
I’m in my office resting on the couch in-between seeing clients, deciding I’ll close my eyes to rest for a moment. It’s just days after Worth has passed.
… I am with him in their family room.
Again, my experience: visual, audible, tactile. It is not quite like the solidness of “real life”.
Reunited with their old dog.
Bright sunshine again lights the room from windows and doors behind me where I sit. It is their family room and Worth is sitting in a chair across the room facing me.
“Hey Mina,” he’s happy to see me.
Suddenly into the room comes their old family dog. Ramsey! She was the sweetest beagle. I remember when I was early grade school and her having puppies…I love the smell of puppy breath.
“Oh my gosh, it’s Ramsey!” I announce truly surprised. Not expecting to see her at all.
Wagging her tail she came right up to Worth, who didn’t seem surprised to see her. He picked her up and loved on her in his lap.
“Wow, like how old is she now?” In real time Ramsey would be in her mid to late forties. Seriously.
Worth looked at the dog and petted her. He was perplexed, confounded in a pleasant way. Not distressed. “She’s real old,” he said, making the “real” to sound out longer than the one syllable that it is. Smiled.
We both laughed.
“Where are Mister and Missy?” These are their current dogs, two shih tzus. I was curious about this process of transition he was in and how he might answer.
Shrugging his shoulders he decided, “They’re with Mom.”
So how wonderful to know that we are reunited with out old pets. I knew this to be true, but maybe it can offer you the reader some comfort to think upon this.
Walking In Their Garden.
I am at home and it is in the wee hours of morning. Around three. I begin meditation but with no specific intention other than breath and peace.
… I am with him in their garden.
Again, my experience: visual, audible, tactile. It is not quite like the solidness of “real life”.
What Is God Like?
My aunt and Worth have a beautiful garden. He helped a little with it, but accolades are really for my aunt. The entire back yard is full of perennials! It is like a picture from a magazine. Truly.
He and I are walking and looking at the late spring plants. I know the columbine are his favorite because she told me recently. I’m asking him the names of the plants, but he smiles and shrugs his shoulders for an I don’t know answer.
At the back edge of the garden is the “sitting corner”. This is where a lounge chair and table with chairs are welcoming for all. I see my cousin Mia there with her long blonde hair; my cousin Mia was mentally handicapped and died last winter from life long afflictions of severe complex seizure disorders and Cerebral Palsy, but now—now she stands there in complete beauty and without affliction! Others who have passed are there…their dad and dad’s brother, their uncle (he died last year as well). It really is a crowd of loving souls for Worth.
They are far away from us as we are meandering through the plants. He doesn’t seem to see them.
“What is God like?” Worth asks me as we pause in the garden.
I am slow and thoughtful to say, “To me, God is pure love. Agape love. Our Light. This is Christ.”
He is quiet and contemplative now. We do not speak more about this.
agapē: Agape (from Greek and pronounced agapē), God’s love for us, and as human beings our reciprocal love for God.
Scripture in the New Testament of the Christian Bible, demonstrates transcendent agape love in its highest form. In John 3:16, it is agape love that God sends his only son for the world’s redemption. The term necessarily extends to the love of one’s fellow humans, as the reciprocal love between God and humans is made manifest in one’s unselfish love of others. This is akin to charity.
What is God like, I ask you, the reader?
It is not for me to say—for you—what God is, for you. I only know my experience. It is one of agape—the most perfect love—that is unconditional and complete and infinite.
____________________
I will share this with you.
Many years ago I was in contemplative prayer. My intention was asking God:
What is the right way to believe?
For me, I was brought up Christian and this is my belief. Others say that their religions are the right way to believe.
Such that we are all made in God’s image, I cannot believe that some human beings are with God and the rest are simply: not.
As a parent, would I love some of my children because they believe this or that, but the rest of my children…oh, I cannot love you because you do not believe the things that my other children believe.
So in the following writing I share my experience of the contemplative prayer and my question to God: What is the correct path of spiritual belief?
A
sking God to show me the correct path… In prayer that is contemplative, meditative, I slow my breath and sit in a quiet space, free from noises and distraction. I am in a quiet space inside myself now, but not of myself. Yet I am in this space of peace.
Now I am standing on soft green grass with several large trees beyond. The sun is shining. Appearing unexpectedly is a gopher. I am to follow him. So I do.
We travel down the hole into the musty earth. There are roots we maneuver through and as we continue downward, they become sinewy and very soft. It is dark, yet I can see. I am not afraid. I remember there was tremendous tactile and olfactory senses engaged for me: the coolness of dirt, the smell of tunneled-earth’s dank.
Soon we enter into a large cavern. The gopher is no longer with me. There is no light, yet I can see. I am not afraid.
As my eyes adjust and things become clear, I see many tunnel openings. I am quietly perplexed about which one to take to return to the surface. So I picked one. I traveled up and wound through the soft strings of organic growth, traveling up further through sinewy roots and on up and up until I finally see the light of sun and the opening of the hole. I emerge to the grass and sun and trees.
Standing akimbo (one of Worth’s favorite words), I look around. My eyes adjust and become clear. All around me I see the many tunnel holes that extended from the large cavern. All the paths lead to the same place in the sun.
Where Are We Headed?
I do not know where this is all headed. My conversations with my cousin unfold as they do. I will share with you that you may find some comfort and hope in your own loss, in understanding that it is not really an end when a loved one dies.
Yes, we do not have them here with us in the physical sense of breath and blood and body. Yet we are still together in the sacred space.
I encourage you to center yourself. Gain balance in mind, body, spirit. Being peace. God bless you.
Mina,
Thank you so much for sharing your gift and personal experience of life beyond the physical plane. It is a great comfort to have my deepest wish confirmed. I hope you continue to trust that there are many of us who are ready and eager to hear your message, and even dare to hope than we can also learn to connect with our loved ones beyond the veil.
Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.
MaryAnnette Biszmaier
Hi Mary Annette, I agree. Hope feeds the soul! Blessings to you…