Writing to me is like breathing. For days I have not been able to do both very well. I got sick on Monday, the day my beloved friend Tosca died…
Her short of breath the last days; difficulties with her lungs, I felt everything…
My week spots are my lungs as well, so no wonder that I got an enormous physical reaction. Except for the function of letting you breathe, lungs in an emotional way stand for distress…The last time I have been so sick was in 2005, because of some problems that literally took away my breath at that time. That had an emotional link too.
Lying in bed I had the time to think things over. I have been too sick to go to the funeral of my so beloved, sweet friend Tosca, which felt terrible, just TERRIBLE…..Can you imagine loving a person so much and not being able to see her for the last time, ever again? Not to be at her funeral and not being able to speak the words she asked me to speak there for her? The high fever I had felt like a hazy cloud in my brains and did not allow me to think clear. I was not able to write any words down and could hardly breathe. No talking, no phone possible.
For someone like me, there is a reason for everything, so instead of losing my energy to feeling sorry for me, I started to ask myself what this had to tell me…
Looking back on it now, (I am recovering slowly and it still takes a lot of energy for me to type) I have found some answers I want to share with you.
It started when I felt connected with Tosca herself, I was crying my eyes out in bed, feeling totally miserable and not able to think clear. Then, I saw Tosca next to me. She looked at me and said:
‘Potverdikkeme! Moet ik nu helemaal naar je toekomen om je te vertellen dat jij nu eerst eens aan jezelf moet denken! Ik heb mijn leven gehad, maar jij nog lang niet, hoor je me Meer? Ik wil der niets meer over horen, ben je nu helemaal! Ik weet toch wel dat je erbij bent. Nu eerst opknappen jij!’
‘Well, damn! Do I need to come all the way to you, to tell you to take first care of yourself! I have had my life, but you haven’t had your life, not for a long time, do you hear me Meer? (Mary) I don’t want to hear anything about this anymore, are you crazy? I know you are there with me. Now first get better you!’
Then she was gone again. This immediately remembered me of her first appearance to me at Monday night. I already did not feel well at all and decided to take a bath. As I was lying in the bath, thinking of her (she died that afternoon), being in a state between awake and half asleep, I heard her.
‘Oh Meer! It’s so light, it is so beautiful and the sound I hear! It is no real music but it is such a wonderful sound around me. And the colors here, it is so incredibly beautiful! I feel so light and so wonderfully happy!’…………
Was I hallucinating? Was it the upcoming fever that troubled my mind? No! I simply know this was real because I have had these contacts with people who had gone to the Light many, many times before. The messages are always personal, describing and very bright.
The same happened when my father died. And with lots of other people I have known, even with those I have not known during their lives at all. In my work I use psychometrics; photo readings. It is like I tune in on their frequency and they are happy to be able to tell me things that matter to them and to the person who is there with me (and has showed me the pictures of their beloved one)
It is amazing how correct the information is given and how much peace it can bring to the people who are missing them.
Back to the start of this, what did I learn from being sick in this week, what did it GIVE me instead of TAKE from me?
I realized afterwards that Elise and Fay, my two daughters who were at the funeral and who spoke out for me, have experienced this TOGETHER so deeply that it felt to them they became CLOSER to each other, closer than before. Would this have happened when I had been standing there with the girls at my side to support me? It would have been possible, but it also would have been different!
Secondly, the appearance of my daughters seems to have opened the hearts/ souls of many people in that church. Unprepared, since the text I wrote and they would read there all of a sudden did not seem to be taken with them, they stood there. Elise would read it, (she did remember certain parts from my speech but not all of it) Fay would bring it, I can imagine how they felt…. But BECAUSE of the fact that I was not there to read it personally and BECAUSE of the other fact that the paper was not there with them, something beautiful happened. Lots of people started to let go of their emotions, BECAUSE of the way they talked there, hand in hand. Fay did bring her poem and was able to read it. Their appearance added “something” to the atmosphere in that church.
So, looking back at it all, beautiful things took place…….I learned from this that there is no control over situations………control indeed is fried air. No matter how carefully and punctually prepared, there is no control at all. We might think we do have control, but life teaches us that it is something WE make up…
Whenever something unexpected happens, go with the flow….in feeling peace with that, it can bring you everything you want.