This past October, I lost one of the most important men in my life. My 90-year-old Polish grandfather, Edward, succumbed to throat cancer. While he lived, he was more like a father than a grandfather to me. He played a large role in my life when I had little to no parental interaction.
As I sat on his bedside with his body empty of a soul, his heart no longer beating, awaiting transport to the morgue, I reached out to touch his hands. His lifeless body was already cool as it took me two and a half hours to get to him. I felt immense regret at not being able to reach him before he crossed over to the spirit world, but we hadn’t been living in the same town.
When I touched his hands, he let out a sigh of relief. I knew the gasses in his body were dissipating, but for me, it felt like a sigh of relief that I was finally there with him.
Beyond that, there was no spiritual connection immediately following his death. I sat at his side trying to dial into his vibration and channel him, but I had no success. Maybe it was too soon? Maybe I was too close to him and emotionally not ready to connect? Maybe it was not even possible since he was in transition between here and there? During this time at his bedside, I did have an outburst of tears, but it was brief and liberating. After a while, I left the room and spent time with family. We held space for each other and took it all in.