Passport to Paradise

One Amazing Thing: Passport To Paradise

Recently, I came across my oldest son’s passport.   It contained only one stamp:  Indonesia.  Danny always wanted to surf Bali.  He did…one year before his death.  Born in Hawaii, he loved the sea and all of nature.  The islands claimed him twenty-five years later in a fall from a mountain ledge in the Valley of the Kings, his favorite place.

I unzipped his body bag and smoothed a lock of hair from his forehead.  I placed my right hand over his heart and my left hand on mine.  All those years of making him well, fixing his broken bones, straightening his teeth, and now…I could do nothing but breathe in short, ragged breaths. God, give me the strength to bear this, I mouthed.  I felt a strange warmth.  I knew my Danny was beside me.

At his funeral by the sea, the people felt his presence.  During the Hawaiian chants, the canoeists raising their paddles in salute, the blowing of the conch shell, and the placing of the lei petals on the gentle waves while the green sea turtles watched, a great love encircled us.

The same sea captain, who took Danny deep-sea fishing as a boy, steered the boat to my son’s favorite surfing beach as a green sea turtle appeared, seeming to guide.  Taking a handful of his ashes, we each jumped into the ocean, completing the circle of life.

Strange, but wonderful “coincidences” kept happening, especially during that first year of his passing:  cleverly-placed rainbows, sightings, strategic words to a song, dreams of actual visitations, help in crisis, specific animals appearing, and especially, the four messages that came through a channeler friend to ease our pain and to help us understand.

One of the messages said that Danny could help us more from where he is than he could have from his physical self.  So many people who loved Danny have attested to this.  I believe that my son went ahead to help us grow, trust, and believe.  We were given these gifts of insight to help us develop into the wonderful people we are capable of being and to help others who grieve.

Years have passed and the connections are more finely-tuned.  This is the way it is supposed to be.  My son’s passing has changed me forever.  Our family and friends all strive to become better, more tolerant, more insightful and loving people.  I miss him terribly, but I know he is near, safe, happy, constantly learning, and helping me and others, especially children.

I am currently writing the third book in the trilogy about Danny.  His passing over was the saddest, most gut-wrenching, amazingly profound event of my life.  And yet, I survive, having found peace and happiness.  He continues to teach me how to live.  I have always feared death.  Now, I do not…for I have seen through the veil.  I feel the love.