Over the years, I often wondered how I would react to Jerry’s death and his funeral. Would I even go to his funeral? I assumed that I would because I “needed” to be there for my brother and sister. Would I be angry? Shut down or guarded? On the defensive about my decision years ago to cut him out of my life? Might I even be sad?
Jerry died in Bogata, Columbia and it took a week to return his body back to Texas. That time allowed me to sit with my feelings and gain clarity on what action on my part would serve my highest good. The first gift I gave myself was the possibility of not attending his funeral, without judging myself or feeling guilt. Ultimately, I decided to attend his funeral for me and not out of any superficial sense of obligation to my siblings. I set my intent on simply being present (in the now in each moment) and released all expectations, agendas, and burdens. Maybe I would experience a sense of closure, or maybe not. Maybe I would learn some positive things about Jerry and broaden my understanding of him, or maybe not.
The second gift I gave myself was asking my angels to energetically protect me from Jerry. Life to life...though his body has died, his life force lives on. I literally can feel and visualize my angels completely surrounding me with their wings spread and each holding a sword of light. Nothing less than love can break through their wall of protection.
When I saw Jerry’s body, the anger and disgust that I anticipated might surface were not there. Nor sadness. Nor fear. Instead, my heart was full of prayers for healing for his soul and for healing of the many souls he abused in this life.
The minister was wonderful. He spoke of the imperfection of mankind, and acknowledged that Jerry brought both good and bad to this world, as have every one of us, and that Jesus modeled forgiveness. I appreciated the fact that he did not glorify Jerry’s life or ignore the pain and hardships that Jerry brought upon his wives and children, but instead was honest about the reality of Jerry’s life and at the same time engendered compassion and forgiveness.
After the service, I spent the rest of the day with my sister Michelle and with two half siblings I barely knew before that day. That time with them was an incredible gift. We spent several hours at a yummy Mexican restaurant, drinking margaritas, getting to know each other better, and laughing hysterically at the craziness of the stories we shared of our lives with Jerry. Though not intentional, we drank until we were wasted, which we all found hilarious and fitting considering Jerry was a drunk! (Somehow we ended up at Michelle’s house swimming in our funeral attire!) I must have needed the release the alcohol afforded me because at one point I found myself sobbing uncontrollably from the core of my being...like a volcanic eruption of pain and suffering and sadness. And then I was done. (Isn't it ironic that it took much toxic beverage to uncap the toxic emotions that I had buried so deep for so long?! BTW, I still love margaritas!)
There’s been a shift in me. I’m at peace in this moment. I feel more spacious and lighter. I feel like I am manifesting more of who I am than I have ever allowed myself to be. It is like I am finally merging all of the parts of me that I fragmented in my childhood in order to emotionally, physically and spiritually survive and thrive. I went to Jerry’s funeral for myself, with presence, and with an open heart to God’s healing graces. I came home having discovered more of my authentic self.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment