A weekly reading and discussion group Whitley and I are in seems to fixated on the subject of death right now, which is something that those of us who are actually FACING IT find distressing--I would much rather talk about LIFE.
One thing I learned, that I told everyone there, is that when it's your time to go, one of your dead friends or relatives will come to help you make the transition. When I nearly died in 2004, my dead Siamese cat came to guide me--or it may have been my mother, or both of them, who knows? Anyway, I felt both presences. This time my dad had has shown up.
Here's how I discovered this: In our apartment, we have two bathrooms--one designated "his" and the other "hers, "but we are certainly welcome to pee in each other's pot, and since Whitley's bathroom is closest to the living room, I often use that toilet.
Whitley has been asking me lately, "Did you use the toilet in my bathroom?" because he seen the seat up, while he always lowers it in case I want to use that toilet. He never leaves it up in the "male" position, and he was thinking maybe I was doing it for him. But I never raise the seat either--even in public bathrooms--ever since I read a New Scientist survey that found that toilet seats are surprisingly clean.
Unlike Whitley, I don't see ghosts, but I often know they're around from interpreting what they do, what messages they are sending (I think they want us to know their identity). Lately, though, Whitley has been saying that he has been sensing my dad's presence. Now, my dad never lowered a toilet seat in his life. So I suspect it's his droll way of announcing himself. We were estranged before his death because, after my mother's suicide, he married a woman who was cruel to me, and he did nothing to help me.
During my 2004 NDE, I saw many people sitting in a sort of way station clutching huge bundles. They weren't going anywhere until they put those packages of hate, bitterness, disappointment and greed down.
I know it's time for me to put my package of anger at my dad down and forgive him, so he'll feel free to come when I need him--which, I hope, won't be soon!