Читать книгу We Are Never Alone - Anthony Quinata - Страница 15

A woman named Ann was dying from breast cancer. I was asked if I would offer a session as part of the silent auction that was being held at a benefit to help pay for her medical bills. “I’ll go one further,” I said, “I’ll do a session for her. That way she’ll know what to expect when her time comes. Hopefully, it’ll help her.”

The people who approached me told me that they loved the idea but weren’t sure that Ann would agree because “she didn’t believe in that sort of thing.” Honestly, I wasn’t surprised when she did agree to the session. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me that when Ann, or anyone else for that matter, comes to the point that she understands that physical death is inevitable, curiosity sets in as to what may be waiting when that moment finally arrives.

When I do a session for people who are terminally ill, it’s not unusual for them to hear from a number of souls of their loved ones who seem to be gathering during the session en masse, hoping to help them make their transition easier. In Ann’s case however, it was only her aunt who showed up.

“She’s telling me that there’s a party being held in your honor in about three weeks,” I told her.

Ann looked puzzled. “I don’t know of any party. The only one I know of is that one tonight.”

Her aunt repeated herself that there was going to be a huge party in Ann’s honor three weeks from the day we were meeting. Ann looked at me and shrugged.

Twenty-two days later she was surrounded by her mother, her father, and her sister Mary when she drew her last breath. At her memorial, her father, unaware of the session between Ann and me, said that during the last three weeks of her life, Ann was more peaceful than he had ever seen her.

Terminal illness is a harsh way for life to end, not just for those who are dying but for those left behind. Standing by powerless, sitting and watching our loved ones fading, helpless to stop what can’t be stopped, is difficult and puts a huge burden on our own souls. Watching the ones we love in so much pain leaves a lasting effect on us long after they’re gone, and we’re left here to grieve their absence. It tends to cause us to lose hope in the here and now and in the reality of the hereafter. We also lose a great deal of our loved ones before they’re even gone.

But once they do succeed in moving from this life to the next, these souls insist that it’s what they went through that was necessary and that they would gladly go through it all again to gain the same reward in the next life. Most of the souls I’ve heard from who have passed from cancer, or another terminal disease, often refuse to acknowledge any suffering they experienced because they’ve gained so much from it in terms of peace and joy in the hereafter. If they do acknowledge going through a rough time before their passing, it comes across as a distant memory, and they insist that not only did it end at the moment of their death, but it was also a valuable part of the new life they built for themselves in the hereafter.