I’m reading a book given to me for review. The book is “We Got It All Wrong” In the book, a woman whose mother has passed has an experience in meditation where she sees Jesus and he asks her for her ball. She looks down into her hands and sees a ball. She realizes this ball represents the grief she’s been carrying for her mother. Jesus wants her to hand the ball over to Him. Her reaction to paraphrase is “Uh, no, Jesus. This is all I have left of her. I’m not giving this to you.”
This resonated deeply with me. The anger I felt on Easter morning. The sadness I feel every day. The longing I feel. That’s what I have left of Shayna now. It’s palpable. It’s almost tangible. Parents of children whose children have transitioned cling to whatever we can. We are scared we will forget the sound of their voices, the feel of their cheeks. We hold onto their clothing, their stuffed animals, anything. We try, in desperation, any way to contact them again. Yesterday a friend asked if anyone in a this group I’m in would be willing to undergo a medical procedure, normally done for medical reasons, that has a decent chance of causing you to experience and NDE. My first reaction was “Probably not. First, an NDE isn’t guaranteed. Second, an NDE is highly customized and individualized for what you need. If you needed to see a particular loved one, you’d probably do it in another way or spontaneously have an NDE. Third, no ethical doctor would do such a thing. (I assumed the procedure involved stopping your heart).” But, as I thought about it, I began to wonder. “Would I do it if the chances were good I’d see Shayna (or any loved one or even an angel?” Yeah, maybe. Yeah, probably. Anything to bolster the hope.
Last night, Tywana and I watched Long Island Medium. Heavy D’s sister, Portia Davis, was there seeing the medium. She talked about the anger she had because of his sudden death at the age of 44. Fortunately, she got some extremely healing messages and said she left feeling better. Heavy D told her that she needed to let go of the anger. It was changing who she is. He was at peace. Theresa told her that she needed to have that be enough. That he was at peace. I could relate to her anger, her shaking her fist at a world that took her brother in such a cruel and unexpected way. Sadly, at the end of the show, they gave an memoriam to her. She died herself, suddenly, a few weeks or months after the filming, at at 51- unexpectedly. She had lost three brothers, all at a young age. Was it her grief that killed her?
Back to the original story, the grief ball. Jesus told her to take all her grief and put it into the ball. She does this, but she is still reluctant to hand it over. The grief and the pain, she feels, are all she has left of her mother. Finally, she trusts Him and hands it over. He sets the ball on the ground. For a minute, she’s scared he’s going to crush her mother. He kneels down in front of the ball, puts His hands together in prayer and turns His face to heaven “Father, pleas take away this child’s sadness and grief for the loss of her mother. And unleash Maureen’s goodness and absorb int into the heavens. Anything that was not good, allow it to dissipate.” The ball cracks over and a beautiful butterfly emerges and flies up in to the heavens where it is absorbed.
I’m not quite there yet. It’s been 21 months. I’m still holding onto the ball.
