A few weeks ago my brother called to tell me he was feeling very poorly, a worsening of his myriad of health problems related to his heart and digestive system, and sadly to his obesity. In any case, our talk turned to our childhood, as it often did, and he said he thought he might be dying pretty soon. Once again I related what I have learned over the years of OBEs and retrievals, and was not met this time with his usual "I don't believe in God" talk. He asked what I thought happened as people passed over, and we talked about Mom and Dad, over there, and such.

On Tuesday his wife called to say he was in the hospital, and Wednesday to say he was in the ICU, and that I should come. I got on the plane at 9 PM, and put on my headphones and went OBE to find him. I found him just beyond the physical boundry, in Monroe-speak Focus 22, where Bob described coma patients and really intoxicated folks, and such. I visualized walking in to an ICU room, and there he was, wide-eyed and looking very scared to me. He saw me immediately, but apparently did not see the several other energies just there, too. One of them was our mother, who looked to be sitting next to him, stroking is hair as she often did to us as she spoke her heart. I told him he would be fine, and not to worry, and reminded him of how Mom used to brush his hair off his forehead, and of her perfume, and I told him she was just there, doing just that. He closed his eyes and he breathed in through his nose, and we were covered with her scent of "Lauren." And when he opened his eyes he saw her. I knew he was passing that night, and as I began to phase back to the airplane, he told me to tell his wife that his password was her middle name and her birth year. I phased back to the plane hoping I would get there before he passed and I knew it would be that night.

I walked in to the ICU at midnight, his wife and stepson there for the night. My sister and the others who had come had gone, partly to avoid me, and partly to rest. My brother was comatose and unmoving all day, and stable though he had asked that morning that nothing further be done, and only supportive care had been rendered that day. I hugged him and told him I was there in the ICU, and that I loved him. He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows and his right arm as if he was going to speak and then settled back in to his fog. "He knows you're here," my sister-in-law said.

Within minutes his breathing changed and he got restless. His wife asked that his morphine drip be increased, and it was. He breathing and heart slowed very gradually as over the next four hours he slipped away, with great dignity and grace. I will miss his great heart over here.

We went back to their house, and I told Jeanette his password. She tried it and it was correct for his phone and his computer and e-mail, and she asked me how I knew it. I told her the story, and we cried a bit and went to sleep finally.

And then, after five hours of sleep on a sofa in the front room, my sister-in-law and her son asked me to leave their home because they wanted to be alone together, and there was to be no service (as my brother did not believe in God or anything, she said). I came back home that day. The whole experience was surreal.

Now, after a few days rest at home, I have had the opportunity to check on him. He is at the Healing and Rejuvenation Center on (Monroe-speak) Focus 27, as I knew he would be. My mother's energy is still with him in that greyish blue room with the light glowing from the floor and ceiling. He looks as he did in his twenties, and I feel good he did not get lost in the hollow heavens or hells that occupy the areas between here and there.

It is still a bit hard to write about this for me, but I noticed my experience of it all was so very different that what drama and wailing and beating of breasts was played out before me when his daughter (my neice) and my sister arrived after he had passed. They had taken sleeping pills (and more) and were glassy-eyed and haggard looking, especially under that horrible flourescent hospital lighting, and woke the whole floor up with their hysteria. I was at peace about it, totally and deeply.

Even the ones you would never think would listen seem to listen when they need to. As the song goes, "Life is but a dream..." and it is wonderful to be able to come and go from it in a conscious manner. I have not spoken to anyone since; ah, my dysfunctional family.....

Tgecks,
I echo the above comments. A beautiful experience, thanks to your understanding and clear perception amid the chaos. My sister died at age 50 last year. She suffered a stroke and went on life support. When I arrived we took her off the life support and over the course of two long days watched her slip away. Unfortunately, I did not have your powers of observation and and perception at that time, but I had had some contact with our mother, who had passed two years previously.  While sitting with my sister on her final day, I suddenly and very forcefully "remembered" that my mom had told me that my sister would pass soon, when I had contacted her the year before.  The realization made me jump up out of my chair it was so sudden and direct.  Very much like being poked by someone. The realization that my mom had given me verifiable information about my sister's death peeled away a layer of my belief system (as my first contact with my mother had done before that). I am working toward a higher understanding, as you clearly have. And your story is an inspiration to me, which is why I come here in the first place. Thank you for posting it, and I know it was hard for you to write. I wish you continued peace. Bardo

Thomas;
Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
Beautiful.
PUL, R.

Thomas,

Thank you for sharing this. Your brother departed without fear, and we can only imagine what it was like for him upon realizing he was indeed more than his physical body. I get the feeling he's going to have a helluva great time in his newly found freedom .

Much love,

Ginny

I have checked up on Jeff, and it meminded me of going to see my grandmother in the nursing home. He was outside in The Park on (Monroe-speak) Focus 27, one of his reported "first ventures" out of the Healing and Rejuvenation Center where I last saw him a few weeks after his passing.

As for the living, they fare far less well. Great turmoil for physical posessions and huge dram still grip my pitiful dysfunctional family. I am so struck by how very different my experience of my brother's passing was from theirs: I saw it a true release, and they could only see it as their personal loss and nothng more. I think this is the greatest gift of this work: to know that "God's angels hover near and all about," that they are still around....

Have a blessed New Year. If this is our last, make it your BEST ever!

Thomas