“We do not choose the work we are brought into this lifetime to do. That work is your soul signature – your unique expression. Your Spiritual DNA.” Panache Desai, “Discovering Your Soul Signature”
In my last article, I spoke with you about soulmates. If you missed it, I’d suggest reading it over to understand how soulmates help us learn life lessons. Soulmates are anyone with whom we have a strong emotional connection: positively or negatively, and support us in learning life lessons.
After doing much contemplating, I’d like to share a very personal, emotional story with you. I need to say this is a tough story to tell. If you are reluctant to share it, I totally understand. The reason I’m willing to be vulnerable is because the ultimate lessons I learned (and continue learning) may be of value to you. These lessons – in claiming one’s own independence and power… and recognizing that love is eternal… came to me through one of the most beloved people in my life: my mother.
No matter who you are, or in what situation you face, I want to assure you: you are never alone. You have loved ones, spirit guides and even angels to help you out. Perhaps my story will give you hope. A fresh perspective on life and death. A chance to see the gift from the challenges you face. In any event, there is so much to say that I’ll be writing more in my next article.
This story began on December 16th, 2004, at 11:20 pm, when the phone rang. An odd time for a phone call. I had just finished practicing a song on the piano that I planned to play at a funeral the next morning. When I picked up the phone, my brother Mark was on the line. His voice was tense.
“Lynn…I’ve got bad news. Mom had a heart attack, and it doesn’t look good.”
My breath stopped. I couldn’t move. My heartbeat seemed to skip a beat.
“WHAT?” My voice almost shrieked. “What did you say?” My mind refused to believe what I was hearing. My body started shaking.
What was my mother doing in Las Vegas with my brother’s family? No one had even told me she was there. I had tried reaching her in Florida over the past three days, but hadn’t heard back. If seemed odd, because we usually spoke over the phone almost every day. I figured she was busy. Due to unfortunate family dynamics, no one told me where she was.
My brother repeated himself. I felt numb. Mark had to go. The ambulance was waiting. He would call me back as soon as he knew more. I hung up and wailed. A long, high-pitched scream. A wail of pain and anguish. My mother, my lifeline, my dearest friend, my buddy. I did not want to imagine living in this world without her. I’m sure I sounded as though I were dying too.
My husband, Joel rushed over. With tears streaming down my face, I blurted out my deepest fear. Joel uttered the only comfort he could think of, “You never know, she might pull through.” I clung onto his words, but inside myself, I didn’t feel hopeful.
I called my father in Florida. It was about 12:45 am (ET), and now, thirteen years later, I barely remember what was said. I think he said, “It doesn’t look good…” His voice sounded hollow. Mom was the lifelife of our family. How could this happen? Dad had to get off the phone to wait for any update from my brother Mark.
Just twenty minutes later, the phone rang again. I’ll never forget his words.
“Lynn, I’m sorry to tell you… She didn’t make it.”
“NO! NO…” I shouted, shivering violently. Even now, tears come to my eyes when I remember that horrible night. Mark had to hang up and tell the rest of the family. He needed me to call the Chicago area relatives and let them know there would be a funeral on Sunday… a few days away.
I closed my eyes, as I felt my heart being pulled apart. I was falling, falling, falling into a deep dark pit. An endless abyss. No way out. I made myself call my dear senior friend, Bobette Zacharias, to tell that I couldn’t sing or perform for her friend’s funeral on the next morning. My voice sounded so raspy that she didn’t even recognize it was me.
Somehow, I made it through the next day, breaking down and crying during each call. I’d beg every person to please notify someone else on my list. It was a heart-wrenching task, telling unsuspecting friends and family members this shocking, painful news.
My mother was the most cheerful, loving, radiant soul you could ever meet. You can get an idea from her photo. She made strangers smile with her genuine loving presence. As a former Sunday School and Hebrew School teacher, she had a natural knack of relating with young and old alike. Six years younger than my father, she had worried how she’d manage when my father died. No one could have imagined she’d pass away at age 73. I had only one source of refuge: her emails.
I had purposely saved those emails during that last year. Maybe my soul suspected something might happen. Consciously, I just wanted to re-read them because they felt so reassuring. Over the past few days, she had written about overcoming grief. Just six weeks earlier, one of my best friends, Nancy, had died of a heart attack. I was so bereft that mom’s messages gave me comfort. Now, ironically, I had those same emails to help me cope with this tragedy. I read her words aloud at her funeral during that frigid December funeral. I’d like to share her treasured words with you.
MOM’S FINAL EMAILS…
September 27th, 2004
We look back on our problems and say “I can’t believe I worried about that!” Life is full of problems–it’s how you deal with them that’s important. So just relax and laugh and count your blessings.
October 1st, 2004
How did I ever get so lucky to have you for a daughter. God really blessed me. What a beautiful story you wrote. Thank you for all the kind words. My best blessing for you would be that your children when they become adults should look upon you and give you the same joy that you give me.
November 30th, 2004
You are the joy of my life. What did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful daughter. You have made my day… Good luck on all your paying jobs. Actually good luck on everything. Anyway just enjoy the day. It will never come back so make the most of it (how’s that for philosophy first thing in the morning)…
November 5th, 2004
“You and I have to celebrate LIFE and go on. We have people and things dependent on us and therefore for the remaining time granted us on this earth we must function to the best of our abilities. Remember we will all of us die one day and therefore death cannot be the end. We must give our loved ones precious memories of us to treasure. So wipe your eyes, look your best, hold up your head and GO FACE THE WORLD.
Sending hugs and kisses and
December 2nd, 2004
Beating yourself up over something you said or should have said helps no one especially yourself.
Mom was right. Death is not the end. The power of love never stops.
As I discovered, mom’s soulmate connection with me continued. (And still does.) While I miss her terribly, I know her spirit is still here… helping me when I need her. I’m sure she’d be glad to reassure you too. She was a compassionate woman who others naturally turned to.
So, if you have to deal with a difficult situation in life, ask your heart for an answer. At the end of our darkest tunnel, if we’re willing to take one small step after another, we can be led to those who can guide us forward.
In my next blog, I’ll share what happened later. Till then – may you know that you are always loved.
Love is a part of you. And you are a part of love. Ultimately, we are all connected.