A friend is dying. She’s ok with it. She’s in her 90’s, she’s had a full and active and happy life. She has some chronic pain she’s ready to be free of, and a recent fall — and 100 extra pounds — has limited her mobility. She says she’s ready to drop her robes and take her final walk, to see what’s on the other side of the veil, to discover what adventures the next chapter holds. And she’s eager for the next chapter. So eager that we spend much time talking about it. She knows that we attract what we focus on, so she wants to put herself in a mental place where she’s happy with where she is and yet eager to drop her body for this Earth walk.
To put her in that mental place, we talk about the people she’s loved who have passed on, and how it would be nice to see them again. I listen to her happy memories and ask her about the favorite parts to keep her focused on what we’re doing. She knows that when she gets in the feeling vibe of being wholly with that family again, her consciousness will likely slip out of her body and she will pass in her sleep, which is her desire. “Easy, peasy, next” is how she puts it. She’s convinced our little talks help pre-pave that easy transition, for her and for me. I feel honored to sit and hold space for her in this way. And who doesn’t want to die in their sleep? Go to sleep here and wake up elsewhere in a young and healthy, clear headed and pain-free body with the chance to do it all again? Sign me up.
But of course she can’t stay in that happy, receptive mindset all the time because, surprise, there are other people to deal with. As Domino puts it, now that she’s bedridden, she’s at the mercy of whoever wants to visit her and the family is coming out in droves. People she never met or barely recalls. All their talk is geared toward, “when you’re back on your feet again…” I tell them I’m not an idiot and let’s talk about happy times or not at all, shall we? She and I also do a lot of forgiveness and ho’oponopono work together.
Between that and the doctors, she’s frankly ready for some time to herself. So we sit in silence together as often as we sit and talk. I brush and braid her hair, I stroke her arms and gently massage coconut oil into her hands. I make her favorite Sleepytime tea. And we wait. Happy with where we are, yet ready to depart all the same. Ready to leave this room and step into that next room where loved ones past are waiting.
When it’s my time, I wonder who I’ll attract to sit with me and braid my hair?
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