Kim {part 2}

I need to say thank you for indulging me here.  It's almost 5 am as I sit here and write, I've been up since 2.  I'm not really sleeping much lately, before it was from worry, now it's from grief.  My friend Kim recently passed away from cancer.  She has a family that is grieving, and children who want their mom back. They are why I'm awake.  You didn't have to know my friend for this to be terrifying.  It's all of our worst nightmare, leaving our children too soon.  Kim fought her body in a battle to preserve her life for them.  None of us would endure pain like that for ourselves~but for our children?  Bring on the fire. 

Kim walked through fire for two years.  She knew it was stage 4 when she was diagnosed {started out as melanoma}.  There is no stage 5.  She fought for her children, her husband...and herself.

I had seen Kim when she was at a local hospital, but when she got transferred to the University of Penn, which was farther away, I couldn't get there like I wanted to, and still be back for my kids to get off the bus.  So each morning, since I was up worrying anyway, I spent time sending her distant Reiki {I will link this post up with some info on reiki, and talk about it more in another post, but just go with me for a minute...} hoping that even though I was not physically present, that Kim would feel the energy and love from those sessions, and maybe it would give her comfort on some deep level.  Sending distant Reiki is something like intercessory prayer, where you pray for someone who is not near you, or maybe who you do not know, and you hope that they feel your prayers, and are comforted. 

I finally figured a day when I could get up there, and my husband was working a shift that helped me out w/the kids {that day would be Monday, March 11th}.

Saturday morning, the 9th, I was up early again, and felt upset, moreso than usual.  I felt like I needed to bring out the 'big guns', and took my Nana's rosaries for the distant Reiki session that morning. I only bust those out when I need some extra help.  Saturday just felt like that kind of day. I sat in my Nana's chair and said a decade of the rosary, and began sending Reiki from the 'blue room' in my house, looking out a window towards the sunrise.  But the energy was totally different.  It felt thick, slow, not clear...like pushing your hand through gel.  It made me panic.  As I moved through her energy centers {you envision the person standing or lying in front of you} and got to her root chakra, I felt very little energy at all.  This should be a strong point, it is your life energy.  I felt very little life in her, and I was very overwhelmed with emotion. 

I didn't want to alarm Kim's best friend, but I texted her around 8 am saying I need to talk with you about the Reiki I sent today.....because maybe I was wrong in how I percieved the energy {I had hoped I was wrong}.  I figured I'd explain it to her on the phone later on.  But at 9:30 am I got the call from Kim's husband that she wasn't going to make it through the day.  I needed to come to Penn.  What I felt was real.

Luckily my sister was around to take me to the hospital so I could be with her, and when I got there, Kim's best friend asked if I would do Reiki for her with the family, so I did.  One of Kim's sons was there, so I explained what I was doing as I moved through the session so he would understand.  There was so much love in the room, the energy was palpable and overwhelming.  I could feel the love coming from Kim's heart chakra into the room for her family.  Her physical body was fading at an alarming rate, but her soul was in high gear, and she made it known to me she wasn't really leaving this family.  She would be with them forever. 
I told her that I loved her, stroked her hair, her hand, and told her that it was okay to go.  She had fought hard and long enough. I promised to help look after the kids, the house, whatever she needed.  Many of us would take up for her, so not to worry.  Even in her comprimised state she tried to ask me how I was doing.  I told her she could stop being the perfect hostess...we were there for her now.

Kim passed away at 8pm, surrounded by the love of family and friends.  It's interesting how when someone passes who you love, it takes your breath away too. 

I never got the Monday visit in~Monday never came for her.  I drove home yesterday and realized I should've been driving up to Penn for that visit.  Lost my mind.  But if I truly believe what I say I do, then I didn't have to drive anywhere to see her, she was already with me.  Heaven isn't a far away place, it is right here.  We walk among our loved ones, we just need to learn how to interact with them in new ways.  Energy cannot be destroyed, and one day we will all get to understand what that means. 

Until then, I'll be talking to her like she's in the room, praying for her family's strength, and trying to live up to my promise.  That's all we would want if it were us, right?

Be in the moment today....

{Jenn}

Kim {part 1}

I wrote this post on March 1st, a day or two after seeing my friend.  By Saturday, March 9th 2013, she passed away.  I'm posting this anyway.   I will write more about my friend, Kim...probably tonight...because if I don't write right now, I'm going to go crazy with my thoughts.   I need to get them out of my head.  It's 4:30 am right now, I've been up since 2:00.  And, honestly, I'm glad I have this little blog to get it all out.  So, thank you.

I have a friend who is living with cancer.  As of late, the battle she has endured to keep her health has been difficult to say the least.  I struggle with what to say...what do you say to someone who may be nearing the end of their journey in life?  I hope to God she is here a very long time, but as I write this, her situation is scaring the heck out of me.  Miracles can happen, and I will keep praying for one....

Recently I went to see my friend Kim in the hospital.  I entered the room, and when she saw me, she outstretched her hand and said, 'Jenn, I think it has caught up to me.  I don't know if I can beat this anymore'.  I told her to hold on, and ducked into her bathroom to wash my hands before sitting with her-half to not give her any germs, and half to snap myself out of the wave of emotion that hit me when I walked in.  She didn't need to see me losing it.  And I didn't want her to end up consoling me.  So I turned on the water~COLD~and snapped out of it.
I asked God, the Universe, the Angels....to keep me strong for my friend.  I could leave that room and lose it later, this visit would not be about me.
She had difficulty breathing, talking was difficult.  I told her not to talk, I would be with her, regardless.  But she wanted to talk.  She wanted to say the things I really didn't want to hear about how she felt she was losing this battle.  Even though I wanted to say, NO!  You are NOT going to lose this!!  I didn't.  I let her talk.  I said no matter what was ahead, I would listen and be there for her. 

Before my third daughter was born, I said goodbye to my Aunt "Hi Doll", her name was Georgeanna, but honestly, no one called her that.  She was "Hi Doll" because that's how she addressed everyone when she saw you.  She was the best.  She was who we all wanted to sit next to at family parties, gossiping and eating cream puffs.  She died when I was 9 months pregnant with our youngest.  I like to think that she held my daughter before I did.
There was  a visit I paid to her when she was toward the end of her life in the hospital {colon cancer}.  She smiled even though she was in unimaginable pain.  She consoled me during that visit.  She spoke to me about being okay with death, and told me how she would miss all of us, and about how not getting to see the kids grow up was the hardest part for her.  I remember saying to her, 'Don't say that, you are going to be okay'. 

I knew she wasn't. 

I look back on that day and I feel bad that I didn't just let her say what she needed to say without having to defend her statements.....she was at peace, and tried to help me get to that place too.  That visit has stayed with me.  And Hi Doll's lesson of acceptance and walking through the unimaginable with dignity is what is helping me now with my friend.

I let my friend talk.  I let her say the tough things.  I listen.  I try to do what Hi Doll tried to teach me...sometimes you just need to say what needs to be said.  Even if it is something you don't want to hear.  You can handle it.  You can throw cold water on yourself and be as brave as your friend.  Just listen.

{Jenn}