A Little Glimpse of Heaven

My sister, Kristen, invited me to a Crystal Yoga Meditation on the 15th of December.  I had no idea what that meant or what I was in for. I was exhausted, so mentally fatigued and weary. I had been at work and I'm struggling to be social in this new "after."  

(I know...ME...the social butterfly!) 

I meet her in the parking lot and we go in.  She has me all set up with a new yoga mat, pillows and blankets. She is taking care of me, I feel so humble. (Thanks Kris!) The tears are near and I knew I had to stop them or I would have to leave. My one rule I always try to follow is "No crying in public!" I have blown that several times since November. 

I'm laying on my new yoga mat, a pillow under my head and one under my legs, enjoying the peace and quiet. I don’t know what to expect, never having been involved in this type of meditation before.

I'm listening to our guide for the session. He relaxes us, works on our breathing, deep breaths. He wants to take us to a safe place. He tells us to visualize a door and walk up to it. It can be any type of door, mine is beautiful wood and looks antique.  He explains behind this door is our inner self.  A safe place, a place of peace once you open the door and walk through. I open it as instructed and walk through. 

 My peaceful/safe place, I visualize, is a meadow full of beautiful flowers. Most of them bright yellow tulips with small red tulips scattered throughout. I can almost smell them, they gently move with the breeze. I can hear children laughing, but can't see them. I mentally run my hands over several flowers, they are so soft to the touch.  

 He says a path will appear and I should follow it, where it will lead to a waterfall. A beautiful waterfall, with watering crashing all around me. This is where we leave our worries, let the water wash them away. I follow his instructions and feel the cold water with my hand, stepping forward and let the water cascade over me. I can't stand water on my face, so I tip my head and let it run down my back.  The water is cold, invigorating and I am shivering. I spend some time there, feel the cold seep to my core and feel energized. 

Our guide instructs us, once we are done, to leave our worries in this place and head back the way we came. 

He leads us back to the path, towards the door we entered through. I felt incredible peace and fully relaxed for the first time in weeks. Still shivering just a bit, I don't want to leave.

As I come back through the door, my state of relaxation increases.  I don't feel the anxiety I thought would be waiting for me. I feel a floating sensation, I am somewhere between here and “there.” Not asleep, not quite awake. 

His voice ends and a female guide quietly takes over. Using a crystal wand and rubbing it on a crystal bowl, she is able to create incredible vibrations and sounds.  She brings the bowl close to my body, not touching, just brings it close around my shoulders and head. She does this several times. I can feel the vibrations inside, it starts in my tummy and extends out. She makes her way around the room to the others in the class. The vibrations are amazing and relax me further. 

After a time, she trades the crystals for an instrument, flute like, that creates the most beautiful sounds, some higher pitched than others. The sounds remind me of a choir of beautiful voices. Soft sounds that harmonize and create a peaceful song. 

She reminds us to breath and breath deep.  I take deep breaths, deeper and deeper. I'm starting to trust that my deep breathing won't make me lose control and cry. 

With my eyes closed, I see them, they are darting around. Moving faster and faster. A cluster of white orbs, forming a group behind my eyes. They combine, move into one bright orb, flowing into each other and form a tunnel; the light is stunning.  It feels warm, safe, there is love there, I can almost touch it. I am racing through it, faster and faster.

A face materializes through the light. The light has moved behind the features I miss with everything within me, details so sharp, those crystal blue eyes so clear and bright. My son, my beloved son, whom I lost to a heroin overdose on  November 11^th , 2018.

Parker's face looks incredible, his skin amazing, his crystal blue "wolf eyes" shining and twinkling.  He is smiling, the smile I remember before heroin, before the pain of this physical separation that is tearing me apart. I want to reach out, my arms struggling to stay at my sides, I want to touch him, that face I love so dearly, kiss his checks, touch his hair. 

 I hear his voice, so clear and strong, “Mom! Rub my back!” in this teasing, almost demanding way he had of asking.  I’m sure I rubbed his back and head every day until he was 15 or 16 and possibly longer. He would lay across my lap and turn into a noodle. I cherished everyone of those times with him being the youngest of my four children. 

The tears leaked from my eyes, my hair soaked on each side of my face.  I am filled with incredible warmth. I feel his hug,the one he always gave me when I dropped him off at his place.  He would say without fail, “Mom, get out of the car! I want a real hug!” How grateful I am for those hugs. He didn't just put his arms around you.  He drew you in, enfolded you in his strong arms and squeezed.  Sometimes he would kiss me on the cheek, draw back, look into my eyes and hug me again. This boy turned man. 

This warmth was a different feeling from the "spirit" I have felt in the past.  It felt tangible, I could almost see it, just out of the line of my sight. If I reach out, can I feel it? It filled my chest, spread throughout my body and wrapped me in pure love. 

The ball of grief in my chest that has been a constant ache since he died, lessened just a little.  I can reach for it, feel it and feel the weight decrease.  I take another deep breath. The first, truly deep breath, I have taken since we lost him.  It filled me, this loss felt survivable for the first time.  

Why would I share such a sacred experience on a blog? I want those of you that have experienced a deep loss to have hope.  I want those of you that feel this ball of grief so deep, to be able to breath. I want those of you that are struggling with addiction to dig deeper, ask for help, stay in this world and help fight this demon that is taking our loved ones.  We need you. I need him. We need each other. 

The song by Lauren Gruwell, who lost her brother to suicide, describes the ripples: 

"Now I See"

I wish that I could hold your hand, 
I wish I could see you again
I would tell you, you are enough
And that you are infinitely loved.

Your life was shattered by your own hand
Now mine has crumbled into sand.

And it cuts like a knife, like a bullet that
Ricochets through every heart,
Bleeding the life out of everyone
Like a wildfire spreading in the dark.

The world keeps spinning around,
Not even my broken heart can slow it down.
The pain you felt,
Now burns a hole in me.
Now I see, now I see, now I see. 

I wonder what I could have done
Wasn't my love for you enough.
To help you see beyond the dark,
To lift and heal your aching heart
I try and I try to make you stay
This pain inside, it won't go away.

And it cuts like a knife, like a bullet that
Ricochets through every heart
Bleeding the life out of everyone
Like a wildfire spreading in the dark.

The world keeps spinning around,
Not even my broken heart can slow it down.
The pain you felt now
Brings me to my knees,

Now I see, now I see, now I see. 

I wish that I could hold your hand. (END)

There is life after this.  He is there. I was given a glimpse of heaven, that eased the pain for a short time.  I can't wait to see him again, hold him, touch his face and whisper, "I missed you."