About a month after my sister passed, as usual I woke early at home alone. I woke slowly to what appeared to be a beautiful and angelic-like vision. I did not open my eyes or even move for what seemed like an eternity. I felt her warm presence in the room as if she had been there all along. I felt her strength and spirit—that same feeling we get when we know someone is watching us intently, examining with love in their hearts or admiration or approval in their thoughts. You know what I mean, those kind looks that can make your day and even better make you feel good. I knew she was always watching because she understood me so well and always had an honest and straightforward answer for me. She knew me so well and I knew her as well too.
This brief moment in time was her way of saying I am still here, and not leaving any time soon. She wanted me to know that nothing was past, and that nothing is lost around the corner in life, and that life and death are one; they are connected and the process for all of us. Fearing either takes away from both. Both need and will be experienced. She said she wasn’t going anywhere and she wasn’t kidding! She was there as surely as you are where you are reading these words.
I did not need to open my eyes to see if I was dreaming; I knew this was not a dream or a chance meeting but an encounter, a cherished familiarity that I would always honor. I knew it truly was happening because the gift of faith had been given to me by my sister. I was very comfortable with that gift, that souvenir of her life in mine. I did not pray or talk or move. I just let myself relax knowing I was not alone in that room. I stayed in the moment and did not acknowledge what day it was, what time it was or what kind of day it was going to be. I gave myself the freedom to be fully absorbed in the experience.
Patricia donates a portion of the proceeds of this book to the Vital Care Hospice of the Straits serving Mackinac County, Michigan, in memory of her sister.