Elizabeth’s 26th Birthday

Today, January 12, is Elizabeth’s birthday. She would be 26 today, if she were alive. Funny how our aging ends, and yet those who are left behind keep track, as if age and years were real. Yesterday I cried, all day. Relieved actually, as it felt like months of tears being released.

My mind wondered why this birthday feels especially potent, especially heart breaking…what is it about 26? Today I realized – I was 26 when Elizabeth was born, 26 years ago. She doesn’t have this opportunity, the huge blessing of having children, and I am missing out on any grandchildren I might have had.  When I was 26, I had been waiting years – my whole life it felt like, to have her, my first daughter. I’d always envisioned two daughters and couldn’t wait to get started. Though my vision has served well in seeing much of my future, it didn’t allow this to be seen. I hadn’t been shown this profoundly different reality, being in relationship with one in body and one in spirit.

Today, while talking about Elizabeth with my friend, her godmother Victoria, music started playing in my office. I walked in and the computer had woken up and started playing songs on iTunes, which I didn’t even have open. This has never happened before, and at first I was confused and ignored it, thinking somehow the music I’d been playing on my phone had transferred to the computer… but then realized that’s not possible. When I walked in to see what was playing, it was “Let’s Talk About Sex” by Salt n Pepa, that I’d taken from E’s most-played songs in her iTunes when putting together a playlist for the memorial service.  One of her favorites, and I had to dance…

Elizabeth has often sent me messages through music, and the “random” playlist today has been amazing:

  • “Let’s Talk About Sex” – Salt n Pepa, a favorite of hers
  • “Earth Kisses Sky” from the album Sky Kisses Earth (Prem Joshua) – the title says it all, yes?
  • “Son of a Preacher Man” – one of my favorite songs
  •  whale songs – E loved animals deeply, and especially whales
  • “Flesh and Blood” by Johnny Cash, who she loved
  • “Let the Wind Carry Me” by Joni Mitchell
  • Brugh Joy recording from a conference I attended. He was a masterful teacher I was blessed to study with for many years, and Elizabeth had hoped to attend one of his conferences, but he died before she was old enough. This captured him talking about being a screen, as a teacher, knowing when others are projecting onto you, as a way for something deep to arise to consciousness. And then how important it is to notice “what wants to happen rather than what we think should be happening”…
  • “The End” by Green Day – must be from E’s computer also, and fitting as I am finishing this post!

Fascinating to me, and feels like she’s clearly here with me as I’m writing today.

Yesterday I was trying to come up with something I could do today to honor Elizabeth, a gift for her, and after a few vague ideas realized I should ask her. While in meditation I felt her touch – I was told by a medium that she touches me on my hair, and I very occasionally will feel this touch and know it’s her. I then saw very clearly selecting and sharing a few of my favorite poems of hers. I know this is something that would make her happy, and though they’re ones that are already on this site, they are buried on a page with many others. So, if you will bear with me, I’m creating a few posts, each featuring one of Elizabeth Blue’s poems.

 

long ago sweetness

For some reason I decided to log in to Elizabeth’s email account a few weeks ago, just to see if there was anything important there. I discovered she had folders that I’d not noticed before, and in one called “treasures” I found this beautiful birthday email she’d sent me, on my birthday, when she was 15. I had saved it, and was surprised to see she had too, among correspondence with special aunties, her sister and a couple others.

This is helpful for me to read when I occasionally let myself remember the very challenging times we had; the times when Elizabeth felt I’d betrayed her; the times she wanted more than I could give; the times she was hostile and rude to me and my partner, the times I was not the mother I’d hoped to be, wanted to be…

I hope it may be helpful for those of you who have teenagers, or who have lost your beloved child without the chance to hear or read these words, as I believe all our children feel this about their mothers, at some moments in time. I’m grateful she had the chance to put this into words at such a young age.

12/24/2005

Hello Mom,
I hope you are having a wonderful birthday.  I have
arrived in San Diego but so far have no luck reaching
you by phone, so I am trying email.
Thank you for being born, for your soul coming in and
giving birth to my body, I think you are such a
wonderful Mother and such a wonderful human being.
Even if you weren’t my own personal Mom I would be so
lucky to be on this Earth at the same time as you!

You have taught me so much about being a woman, being
feminine and holding such great love for that.  You
have expressed so wonderfully to me deep mothering
beauty from the time you sang me songs as you held me,
to your belief that any kindergarden who didn’t take
me was suffering a loss, to standing with me and
trying to hold me as I yelled how I hated you and what
you were doing, to forcing me to go to public school
because you were following your intution, to saying
prayers to keep Brieana and me safe as we lived our
daring little lives, to saying yes to (visiting) Palenque and
allowing me to go and have one of the most decadently
amazing times of my life, to holding my hand as I
cried for a home I had left behind, to trusting my
judgement now and loving me.  I feel like from the
time you sang me songs, gave me life and breathed into
me your love, to all the journeys we have walked
together on this path we call life,
you have been my
constant source, an inspiration and probably the
greatest love of a daughter’s life.

Thank you for being, thank you for loving, thank you
for being born and thank you for my birth.
Thank you.
I love you

love,
Elizabeth

Elizabeth Blue, Jade Beall, Lucia Maya, Elizabeth Meagher

Elizabeth Blue and Lucia Maya, April, 2012 (photo by Jade Beall)

 

3rd Anniversary – in Photos (2nd try!)

The photos I intended did not make it the first time, so I’m doing this again!

I’m not inspired to write much today, but want to share a beautiful day of remembering, celebrating and loving Elizabeth. My mom, sister, dear friend Victoria (Elizabeth’s godmother) and I gathered with food and drink and created altars and played on the beach.

Here is some of what the day held…

Altar, Elizabeth Blue, anniversary, death

Altar for Elizabeth Blue

Lucia Maya, Elizabeth Blue, Elizabeth Meagher Lucia Maya, Elizabeth Blue, Elizabeth Meagher

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya

Marin Headlands

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya

Victoria, Marin Headlands

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar

Beach Altar

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar

Circle of Stones

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya,

Tunnel Into the Light

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar

home altar

IMG_6546 Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar

Me, happy at dinner with my family

Marin Headlands, Elizabeth Blue, Lucia Maya, altar

Me and my mom at dinner

Song for Elizabeth Blue

One of Elizabeth’s closest high school friends was Julia. Elizabeth didn’t have many friends, by her own choice mainly, as she had to really like and trust someone to be open to being friends with her/him.  She was very selective. Julia was one of her few friends in high school, and they stayed in touch for a while after, but then they drifted apart…She had moved away and was out of touch during the time Elizabeth was being treated for cancer, and by the time she came back to Tucson, Elizabeth had died. As might be expected, it was quite a shock, as she hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye, or even reconnect.

Since Elizabeth’s death, Julia (along with several other of Elizabeth’s really close friends) has stayed in touch with me, especially checking in around the more difficult days of birthdays and anniversaries and sharing photos and stories of the altars and rituals they’ve created for her. In honor of September 23, the 3rd anniversary of Elizabeth’s death this week, Julia shared the lyrics and recording of the song she wrote for Elizabeth.  She has a gorgeous voice and is a gifted singer/songwriter.

Listen and enjoy, and you might want some tissues close by…

 

-Elizabeth Blue lyrics-

well some might say that she gone away awhile ago
while others say that she came my way and i won’t ever let her go.
where is she now? yeah i just don’t know.
but i can feel her in the wind, every time my head spins I’m wondering
is she listening?
to my cry…
i never got to say good bye.
now don’t it feel in life like you’re hanging by a rope
sometimes this rope will help you cope
sometimes this rope will make you choke
and i fear the mistake i fear the fever and i fear this heartache yeah…
but life goes on
well it goes on and on and on and on even though you’re gone.
well i love you i miss you i love you i miss you i love you
heres why
from high school to later years you’re the one who curb our fears
and i won’t ever let you go.
no no no i won’t let you go.
but i want you to know
that i love you i miss you i love you i miss you i love you…
heres my, good bye
good bye good bye.
~ Julia Paradies, © 2015

“5 Lessons I Learned About Life By Investigating The Afterlife” by Bob Olson

I’m sharing in it’s entirety an excellent article about lessons learned from the afterlife by Bob Olson.  These lessons resonate deeply for me, and are at the heart of what my partner and I’ve been teaching and sharing with others in our Retreats and workshops for years.  Some wonderful insights and lessons:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bob-olson/5-lessons-i-learned-about_b_5890332.html

“I began investigating the afterlife after the passing of my father in 1997. Because I was skeptical about life after death and had little spiritual foundation or understanding of it (despite my Catholic upbringing), I became curious about what happened to my father after his passing. So I decided to use my skills as a private investigator (my career at that time) to investigate the afterlife.

My father’s passing was the beginning of a 15-year journey that would teach me as much about life as it would death. To be clear, I’m an investigator — not a psychic, medium, or channeler. I’m also not a scientist. I’m an investigator who draws conclusions based on an examination of the evidence using logic, reason, and pragmatism. I begin my investigations without bias or expectation and draw conclusions only after gathering and examining the available evidence. In other words, I look at the evidence first and draw my conclusions second.

In the last 15 years I’ve had the honor of interviewing thousands of people in this field, some very well known such as James Van Praagh, Anita Moorjani, Dr. Brian Weiss, Dr. Eben Alexander, and others of whom you’ve likely never heard. And while I can say without a doubt that I started in this business as a skeptic, I have now seen and learned too much to say I’m still one.

Here are the 5 most important lessons I’ve learned about life by investigating the afterlife:

1. Challenges In Life Are Expected
So many folks believe that something has gone wrong in their life when they experience disappointment, tragedy, suffering, loss, or pain. But no one promised us only positive experiences in our human lives. We learn just as much, if not more, from our challenging experiences as we do our more pleasant ones.

According to my experiences with mediums, our souls choose a human life in order to have experiences that we’re unable to have in the spirit world. Because there is no death, fear, illness, or hatred in the afterlife, our souls choose a physical life to know these experiences and, thereby, more deeply understand the love, joy, and inner peace that we know as spiritual beings. Consequently, we learn from the dichotomy of experiencing the opposite sides of what we know in the spirit world.

2. It’s How We Respond To What Happens To Us That Matters
People who have had near-death experiences teach us that experience is what happens to us, but it is our free will that gives us the choice of how to respond to what happens to us. Take any experience that most people would consider negative, and we can find someone who reacted to that experience as a victim and someone who reacted to that experience by making the best of it. The latter inspires us, of course, but even more these stories exemplify the power of free will and the human spirit.

3. Our Actions Create A Ripple Effect
Near-death experiences and life-between-lives regressions teach us that upon our return home to the spirit world, we as spirits experience what’s called a “life review.” What’s most amazing about this life review process is that we get to know and feel the physical, emotional and psychological impact we had on people in response to things we said and did in our lifetime. This insight inspires us to be better human beings. Knowing that our behavior in life has a ripple effect that potentially touches the lives of countless people is encouraging to be more mindful of how we behave and interact with others.

4. Forgiveness Is For Our Benefit
By studying after-death communications, mediumship, and channeling, we learn that forgiveness is actually less about letting the other person off the hook than it is relieving ourselves of suffering. When we carry the weight of blaming someone with contempt, it is actually our burden to carry. But when we release them of that blame and contempt (while maintaining healthy boundaries), we release ourselves of holding that negative energy inside us, which raises our overall vibration of love.

5. There Is An Evolution To Our Truth & Knowing
We all have our own truth. This is not to say that there isn’t a single truth–one universal truth–but being human, we can only know truth from our own individual filters. Our brain functions, past experiences, beliefs, and education all filter our present experiences in a manner that affects our interpretation of each experience and, therefore, our ultimate knowing. That doesn’t make one person right and another person wrong, of course; it makes your knowing and my knowing both perfect, even if they are miles apart. This also means that your truth today might change tomorrow if you have new experiences that add to your knowing. It doesn’t make yesterday’s knowing wrong; it merely adds a new layer to it, a layer that deepens your understanding at the knowing level.

My investigation of the afterlife has given me a greater chance for making the best of what happens in life rather than falling into victimhood. Even in my daily life, I live with less fear and greater inner peace when faced with challenges. My understanding of why bad things are allowed to happen to innocent people–children included–helps me to focus my compassion on their suffering rather than get paralyzed by blame, fear, and judgment. And it is this understanding that I wish for you and others.

In the end, rather than take my word (or anyone else’s) regarding life or death, I encourage you to become your own afterlife investigator, gather your own evidence, and then draw your own conclusions. After all, this is your life experience. I merely share my own to help you recognize the possibilities.”

With Night – a poem by Sabine Miller

Thank you Sabine, for this beauty. Sharing with love and appreciation.

With Night

– For Lucia on the anniversary of Elizabeth’s death

Blue lacewing
singing
in the atrium

at summer’s end
coaxed
into open palms

where it stays
even while
being waved

through the garden,
oak crickets,
old moonlight –

Meanwhile
soliloquies
of poets and healers

echo inside:
A mother dwelling
in pastures

of surrender
helps one daughter
die-before-she-dies, held

in the heart of
her mother’s hands –
in the heart of a Hand

she’s a blue,
Blue rose as
open as it gets,

the petals the waves
she’ll return
in – the rosebud

she’ll become
is starlight
packed in

tight and deeper
than one can
fathom with this

mind, on this
night.

By Sabine Miller ©, 2014