Exploring Our Perception of Death
Do you wonder why children die?
Welcome to “Modern Life-Keeping” where we discuss ways to thrive in today’s world. I’m your host, Lori Cristine.
The second episode of the series “Living after the death of a child” is for parents who are searching for answers, inspiration and soul strategies following the death of their child, listen in now to explore the possibilities of perceiving this life altering experience.
Exploring our perception of death
Why did my child die? This question tortured me. It brought me to my knees on more than one occasion. Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t I listen to my intuition? Why did this happen? Why now? Why do children even die? Why why why.
There were so many whys that were immediately followed by the what ifs. What if my marriage had been different? What if my family wasn’t so dysfunctional? What if I had been a different parent? What if I could have prevented it and I didn’t? What if it was my bad karma? What if I had left my marriage sooner? What if I hadn’t? What if I had been a better person? Shoulda, woulda, couldas haunted me.
And, then where exactly is she? How does this all work? Did all of her die or just her physical part? Can she hear me? See me? Feel me? If there are past lives, what does this mean in terms of her other families? Can she see inside my heart and mind now? Does she understand me in a way she never did before? Does she forgive me? What does all of this mean???
I needed answers because the questions were literally and figuratively killing me. Reality had bitch slapped me and I was reeling from the blow. The pain was unbearable and indescribable. I needed to understand what it all meant.
Finding the answers required a deep dive to the bottom of my soul. I had to wade through the depths of the pain, the puddles of tears, the energy of despair, the stench of fear, and face reality head on.
It was dark where I wandered and wondered. I was so heart broken, I didn’t have a choice but to do the work or die. My mind was overactive, my heart underactive all while my soul was trying to show me perspective. It was exhausting and grueling work.
The things that are usually resolved with a parent and their child over the course of a lifetime had to be resolved in what felt like an instant.
I had to understand who I was, why I behaved in specific ways, what experiences kept coming up for me over and over, what the experiences were teaching me, what my strengths are, my weaknesses, and my potential.
As I explored deeper, it started to become clear why I have been passionate about certain topics throughout my life. It was all parts of a bigger picture that was starting to come more into focus for me as I continued to seek answers.
Sorting through the false beliefs, the psychological defenses, the family dynamics, the childhood wounds, core beliefs, core values, thinking patterns and more helped to distract me from my reality a little longer. My heart had been shattered into tiny little pieces and I wanted to know why this had to happen. What was the lesson? For every action there is a reaction…What was this experience meant to evoke? I was determined to have it mean something. My daughter wasn’t just going to disappear into thin air and have it mean nothing at all.
I looked at how I had shown up my entire life versus how my highest self would show up. I looked under feelings, picked at old wounds, acknowledged and honored scars, as well as rewrote the story of my life. All while mourning the physical absence of my beautiful daughter.
Repeatedly I was left not knowing how to respond to people when they politely stated “I am sorry for your loss.” I found “I know you are” falling out of my mouth. Because I knew they were sorry as absolutely no one wants to have this experience. And every single one was glad it was my experience and not theirs. Perhaps they were sorry about feeling that way. They were honest when they said they couldn’t imagine, because they couldn’t. When you experience something no one would wish on their worst enemy, it is hard to imagine and there is little that can be said.
It’s important to note: I didn’t lose my daughter. The belief that I lost her is one of the false beliefs I chose not to embrace. My daughter is not a possession I can lose. Nor is she mine to lose. Besides, I have several ideas of where she is. As for feeling sorry for me? I don’t want that either. This is my journey, please don’t be sorry for it. We are not all meant to have the same journey. Our journeys are certainly not likely to be easy or pain free.
The sympathy of others didn’t change reality and frankly, it does nothing to make me feel better. It actually made me feel worse. I don’t want my experience infected with pity or fear. Pity and fear do not help me heal, they keep me stuck. Do I wish my daughter did not die? You bet! But she did. All the wishing and praying, and coulda, woulda shouldas won’t change a thing.
Part of my journey was sorting through all of the information out there; learning which information resonated with me, which didn’t and why. I had to really trust my gut feelings. No one in this entire world had my exact experience, and certainly could not advise me on how to feel or think. I had to learn to stop looking outside of myself for answers I already had. My soul ached to be free.
Seeing things for what they actually are versus what I wanted them to be was one of my most difficult challenges. I had spent so much of my life waiting for people to be who I knew they could be, but hadn’t realized. Compared to that, it is easy to forgive where I didn’t show up as my best self.
One of my best friends made a comment to me early in our friendship about how our culture doesn’t celebrate death. I really admire this friend and find some of her insights to be practical and profound. This statement really resonated with me, but at the time I was still hitting snooze on reality and so only the seed was planted. But, a seed had been planted. One that when watered with my tears of love grew tall and beautiful.
We talk about death as if it is the end. What if it’s not? What if my daughter came here through me to learn, learned what she needed to, graduated from this school on earth, and is off sharing what she learned on her journey? I have to tell you, this makes much more sense to me. Since I was a small child, I have always felt there is so much more to this thing we call life. Why not celebrate it?
As I reflected back on my own life, many seeds had been planted by the time I experienced the death of my child. I found this to be of no coincidence. I started to look at the many aha moments and intuitive feelings I have experienced, but hadn’t followed up on, and the puzzle of my life started coming together.
We all have intuitive skills, a sixth sense that we were born with. I have always been intuitive without realizing what it meant. It was so natural to me that I didn’t realize its power. The experience of my child dying forced me to embrace my intuition. This gift of insight offered me access to the answers I was desperately seeking. The answers that had been available my entire life that had appeared easier to ignore. My power comes from knowing I can choose how I live.
When I set the intention to see what I needed to see, hear what I needed to hear and know what I needed to know, I was able to find the answers buried amongst old programs, unhealed wounds, generational beliefs, bad habits and toxic relationships.
Finally I was able to accept the why. It was an opportunity for me to wake up and become the person I was most meant to be. I stopped listening to the stories inside my head and outside of myself, and instead balanced my heart and mind with my soul.
It was not up to me to begrudge my daughter for the lessons she was born to me to learn. Had I been the perfect parent I thought I should have been, her soul wouldn’t have evolved to the point it did by the time her journey on earth was over. I had to accept that she had certain lessons to learn as well. From her birth to her death, she has taught me unconditional love. I am forever grateful to have her as my teacher and inspiration.
It is time to see my daughter as the beautiful soul she is. Not as a child or a young adult that was taken away from me, but as the incredible essence that is uniquely hers. She holds space for my soul to expand, as I process through this experience and the sacrifices she made to offer it.
Thank you for listening to this week’s episode of “21st Century Parenting” brought to you by Keara Kisses.
It’s up to you how you perceive the death of your child. How can you perceive death in a way that expands you instead of contracts you?
In Episode 3 of our series on “Living after the death of a child” we will explore ways to find value in the experience.
For more information visit www.kearakisses.com.
Until we meet again, keep wondering.
These blogs are written from my personal perspective. I have over thirty years of experience investigating, counseling, assessing and understanding the nature of humans. I look forward to creating a connection with you and sharing reciprocal positive experiences, comments and feedback about your life experiences and opportunities for growth. Please feel free to email comment to email@example.com Positive comments only please.