A Message From Mom

It’s a special bond that spans the years. Through laughter, worry, smiles, and tears. A sense of trust that can’t be broken, a depth of love sometimes unspoken. A lifelong friendship built on sharing, hugs and kisses, warmth and caring. Mother and daughter, their hearts as one, a link that can never be undone. ~ Author Unknown

I channeled three letters from my mom in the first year following her death. The first letter was for my father, the second letter was for me, and the third time there was something for both of us. 

          The day after mom passed, I went home to be with my family. The funeral was scheduled for Saturday, May 17^th, 2014. Randy was still out of town. There was a lot to do before I could go back to help my dad get ready for the funeral. Richard was a senior. He was leaving for boot camp in less than a month to become a Marine. Life is busy anyway at the end of the school year with a senior, trying to get all of us ready to go to my dad’s for a few days was time consuming. When I did get some time to myself that week, I started to write in my journal about my experiences with mom before she passed. I only filled one page.

          We were leaving on Wednesday night, May 14^th, to stay with my dad until after the funeral. There was a gorgeous full moon that night. I wanted to get to his house in time to see it rise up over the mountains. I was rushed trying to get everyone packed; yet, I was determined to finish my record of mom’s passing before we left.

          I started writing that evening in my journal where I had left off. I was writing every sweet detail I could recall from my moments of caring for mom prior to her passing. It was like time paused as I was writing. I wrote twenty three more pages in my journal about that time with my mom and my dad over those final four days of her life. Then just as I was finishing, I could feel mom’s presence with me for the first time since the death of her body. I started crying. I could barely see my journal. But, the thought came to me to start a letter to my dad. I remember writing “Dear John,” and then, it was like I was in a different world. Everything stopped while I wrote a lovely letter to my dad from my mom. I filled two pages of my journal, front and back. I tore it from my book, put it in an envelope, and I took it with us to his home that night.

          We made it into Cache Valley just in time to watch the moon rise over the Bear River Mountains as we were driving to his house. It was magnificent! When we got there I ran inside to get my dad, and the others who were already at our house, to come outside to see that moon. It was glorious! Its beauty that night was beyond any full moon I have ever seen. The moon was huge; shining luminous, bright, golden light right over the top of our house. It had the most beautiful, brilliant, blue aura around it; and then, beyond the blue was an amazing, radiant, red aura. I have never seen a full moon as stunning as that one. In a way it was comforting, seeing such beauty in the night sky at such a meaningful time for us.

          The funeral was beautiful and just what mom would have wanted. At the graveside, my sister took three photos of my dad and me with mom’s casket in front of us. In all three pictures, there is a ruby red light above me and an incandescent, white light above my dad. When I first saw those pictures, I acknowledged it as a symbol of my grandma Ruby and my mom watching over us. I love those three pictures. They are a beautiful reminder to me that the Spirit realm is right here with us, closer than we think. Our loved ones who have crossed over are still available to us. We can feel them if we want to, and if we will be open to their presence and companionship.

          The whole weekend was wonderful. Except, I could never find the right moment to give that letter to my dad. So, I took it back home with me. I saw him on a few more occasions before I was able to find the perfect time to give it to him.

          I went to see my dad again on a weekend in June just after his 67^th wedding anniversary. This was the right moment. Mom unmistakably let me know it. She wanted this letter to be given to him for their anniversary. She had wanted to be here for that special occasion. Unfortunately, there was no way the physical body could hold on to her Soul that long. This letter was her way of recognizing their anniversary. It was about 9 pm on a Friday night when I told my dad about the letter. I was worried he wouldn’t believe me or even want it since I was his apostate daughter. I explained to him how it came about; that I didn’t write it, it was mom using me to send a message to him for their anniversary. We both cried as he read it out loud. It was a very special moment for the both of us. Happily, it was precious to him too. He told me he had been praying every night since mom died, asking for something specific. He didn’t tell me what that was only that, this letter had answered his prayer. Of course, I didn’t know about his request when praying, asking for answers from mom. Yet, I was honored that I was the conduit for its delivery. We talked for a while longer. Then, I went to bed. I was really pleased with how well he received that letter. I was concerned it might upset him. Especially, since it was given to me, a so-called 'servant of Satan', instead of someone who was a believer in the Mormon Church.

          The next morning I was hit with what I had expected the night before, he was angry. He had all night to think about things. For the next three hours, we talked about the Mormon religion, why I left it, why I was going to Hell for that, and how I didn’t agree with him at all. It was truly dreadful. The only thing that I had on my side was mom’s letter. I was concerned about sharing that letter with him because I feared it might set him off on a religious tangent, which it did! 
            Dad was grateful for the letter. Although, it made him feel even more determined to tell all his posterity that had left the church, or who were not members of it, how misguided we all were. He had a new passion fueling his mission of discussing religion with all of his kids before he passed on too. He was now determined to write a letter to all his posterity clearing his responsibility for our lost souls. In it, he was proclaiming the truth as he saw it. That way, we could not accuse him in the next life of withholding this essential, Soul saving knowledge of salvation from us. This was something he had been working on with mom before she died. Now, he felt it was imperative that he finish it, and send it out before he was gone as well. Testifying about the truthfulness of the church to his family was his number one duty. 
           It was a long, depressingly hard summer!  

I will share the next two letters from mom in two different posts.

Namaste!

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