Soul Cake

 

I attended a celebration of life yesterday afternoon.  It was for a former long-time client of mine.  I only knew him in a client-trainer capacity, but I always enjoyed our sessions together.  He was kind, funny, intelligent, and wore a perpetual smile, no matter how many lunges I made him do.  When I received the invitation to his celebration of life, I paused.  Before Scott died, I would have sent my regrets, a card, a donation to the charity of choice, but I would not have attended the service.  Too many big emotions.  Too many people I may or may not know that I may or may not have to talk with.  Too uncomfortable.  Too much.  But not now.  Not anymore.  My perspective has changed.  

After Scott died, I was overwhelmed with the outpouring of support.  I received messages, cards, calls, and visits from people far and wide.  It meant more to me than I ever could express, because whether or not they understood what I was going through, they acknowledged my pain and my grief.  They showed me that I was not alone, no matter how lonely I may have felt.  I realized the importance of simply showing up for someone in their time of need.  All I can do now is pay it forward.  

I truly believe there is something after death, another realm or place where our souls go after we leave our bodies.  The finality of death has never made sense to me.  Yes, our bodies die, but our soul energy has to go somewhere.  Energy doesn't die.  It only changes form. 

Several months after my dad passed away, my brother called me.

"I had a dream about Dad last night," he told me over the phone.

"Yeah?  What was it about?" I asked.

"Dad was just here.  He was just here with me.  I asked him what he was doing, and he said he just wanted to stop by and say hi.  He told me that he is really happy and having a lot of fun, and that he is really busy.  He just kept saying how busy he is and how happy he is.  That was it."

After Scott's mom passed away, Scott woke up one morning and looked at me.

"I had a dream about my mom last night," Scott told me.  "We were just hanging out in her old house.  She told me how happy she is and how busy she is."

A few weeks after Scott passed away, a friend of his texted me.

Hi Heidi.  I hope it isn't weird for me to share this with you.  I had a dream about Scott last night.  We were at hunting camp.  He was hanging out in the wall tent with me.  I looked at him and said, 'Do you know you're dead?'  He looked back at me and smiled.  Then he said to me, 'I am so happy.  Fisher, you are gonna love it here.  I am so happy, and I am so busy.  It's so much fun, and I am so busy.'"

After my brother shared his dream about my dad with me, we both wondered what was keeping my dad so busy.  When Scott shared the same dream about his mom, I got quite curious.  When Scott's friend shared the dream about Scott, I really wanted to know.  So, I decided to ask Scott.

Within days of Scott passing away, he began communicating with me.  Initially, I questioned my sanity.  Was it my sub-conscious playing tricks on me to try and numb the pain?  I thought maybe, but it also didn't feel like the thoughts and words were my own.  I started to trust that they were Scott's words, that he was talking with me.  Some of the things he told me were oddly specific and hard to write off as my own brain seeking comfort in pretend conversations.  

So, one day, I asked Scott. "What are you doing?  What keeps you so busy in the place you are now?"

His reply was immediate.  I help people that have died in natural disasters cross over to this realm.

Whoa.  I had to sit with that for a few moments.  Then I questioned him.  "You help people?  Not animals?"  In this world, in human form, Scott absolutely adored animals, and animals were drawn to him.  People?  People he could take or leave.

Yes.  People.  I help people cross over, specifically people that have been killed in natural disasters.

Every time I asked him about it, he gave the same answer.  Oddly specific.  I had to trust and believe.  He also shared with me the tasks that his parents are doing.  This new information fascinated me.  Then my friend Lisa forwarded me a podcast.

The podcast was an interview with a man named John who had clinically died on the operating table.  He was dead for seven minutes, then came back.  In the podcast, he shared his experience during the seven minutes that he was dead.  It repeatedly blew my mind.  

One of the first things John talked about was that when he reached the other place, he was immediately greeted by a man whom he didn't know, who introduced himself to John as John's guide.  His job was to help newly deceased souls transition into the other realm.  This is exactly the job that Scott told me he has.  Mind blown.  

The entire interview with John was fascinating, but the other thing that struck me the most was what he said about the choice that our souls have.  John said that any soul that chooses to come to Earth and live in this human form chooses to come here specifically for the challenge.  These souls are seeking growth, knowledge, and experience.  These souls, our souls, understand that of all the places we could choose to go, this existence on Earth is the hardest of them all.  We choose to come here knowing that it will be challenging and knowing that hardship is the path to growth.

Yes.  That hit home for me.  The past year and a few months have provided the biggest challenges I have ever faced in my 47 years on the planet, and I have grown, learned, and changed more than ever because of it.  Scott's death, Clayton's death, and the podcast also spawned a lot of questions.    

If our souls choose to come here to Earth, do our souls also choose when to leave?  Did Scott, on some soul-level, decide he had seen and done all he needed to see and do, that he had learned what he came to learn?  Did his soul know that growing old was going to be rough and he wouldn't be able to do the things he loved to do in his physical body anymore?  

When my dad went into hospice care, I called my brother and told him he needed to come over to say good-bye.  We all went to visit my dad on a Thursday evening.  My dad passed away early Friday morning.  I am absolutely certain that he waited for us to say our final good-byes.  When Scott's mom went into hospice, Scott raced over to see her.  In nearly identical fashion, Scott visited her in the evening, and she passed away a few hours later.  I have heard many stories like this, where the dying person waits to pass on until their loved ones can say good-bye.  Perhaps our souls do have some sort of agency.  If that is in fact true, then why do some people hang on, and hang on, and hang on?  Maybe their souls have not learned all the lessons they came to learn, and hanging on through the suffering is part of the learning experience.  

I honestly have no idea.  What I do know is that we need to talk about death more.  We all know it's coming; we just don't know when.  I don't think death should be this big, scary thing that it is often made out to be.  We don't need to avoid discussions about it, or whisper about it, or ignore it.  We need to talk about it.  After all, the deceased have only left their physical body.  Their souls go on to a place that sounds pretty amazing.  We can be sad for ourselves, for those of us left behind, but we should celebrate those who have left.  A true celebration of life, complete with cake and balloons.  Yes, let's have cake.  Death cake.  Perhaps Soul Cake is a better term.  We have birthday cake, wedding cake, anniversary cake, retirement cake.  Let's have Soul Cake.  I can think of nothing more worthy of celebration than a life in its entirety.    

When I die, many, many years from now, I hope there is Soul Cake.