Five years and five hours ago, my mother’s soul took flight into her new life. In her honor, I am sharing this excerpt from my forthcoming memoir.
My Mother: A Healer
My mother was just like me, in her own way, holding space through an energetic field, unconditional love perhaps, the way I held space through an energetic field, over the years, in my case, an unstoppable FORCE – determination, resolve, invoking the possible from deep within the clutches of the impossible, I have seen you stop time, Rick once told me, This is unacceptable, you will create another option – me yelling at, nay, commanding, the Universe, not asking, not pleading, rather, demanding: Nothing shy of this is acceptable. You will behave.
A healer, my mother, able to move physical objects as a child, normal, of course, everyone can do this, oh wait, just her, 1940s, Midwest, shut it down, unsafe…until…until me, channeling into her all the force of my own healing powers – cultivated by diving into the black abyss, taking life by the lapel, saying, I am with you kid, let’s go, like that quote said – my Life Force, my Love, a raging fire hose, directed straight at her, into her, through her, by her bedside, up to 16 hours a day, singing, chanting, holding her hand, placing her artwork in her palm, Mommy, you made this, talking nonstop, the soundtrack for her brain, in a trance of sorts – mmmmmhm, the Black nurse nodding, seeing, understanding, knowing exactly what is happening – my hands waving around my mother’s head, going where they are called to go, where they need to go, like the conductor of a symphony orchestra, seeing meanwhile the energy field of my maternal grandfather, dead for decades, hovering over my mother’s head, never leaving that spot over her head, for weeks.
She woke up, came to, 10 days later – after responding, out of nowhere, to the things I had been telling her, stream of consciousness, channeling guidance, instructing her: Your nerves are softening…your blood is nourishing…your bones are mending…your muscles are repairing…
I don’t know how I don’t know how I don’t know how I don’t know how!!!!! Flailing her head, side to side, that one evening, confirming for me. I knew it, I knew she could hear me when she was unconscious. Excited – yes, this is happening! – but still, talking gently, guiding her softly, You don’t have to know, Mommy. Your body knows what to do. You just need to rest. Falling into a deep sleep after I left, the nurses told me, in one of my frequent calls – the hawk watching closely, intently, even when I was away from the hospital, when the laundry finally had to be done, when I finally had to sleep, if only for a few hours.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa she greeted me the next day, first sign of conscious recognition, sing-songy voice, like that of a happy infant, cadence from high to low notes. Eyes open, spark of light returned, tracking me with her eyes, as I moved from the door to the window, putting my bags down on the chair. Get out! she abruptly commanded. I need to rest! Her first sentences, on the precipice, returning to consciousness – better yet, busy implementing my guidance from the night before.
Delighted.
I was absolutely delighted. Thrilled. Loved her spunk, her feistiness, the confirmation that she was listening, hearing, integrating, even while unconscious – healing herself from inside, as I healed her from outside, as my grandfather healed her from the other realm. OK, I said, amused, my heart filled with joy, I just need to go to the bathroom, and I’ll take off.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa she greeted me again, when I returned from the bathroom – tracking me again, across the room, then commanding again, when I reached my bags on the chair near the window, Get out! I need to rest!
Smiling, ear to ear, I approached her, lovingly, put healing hands on her, kissed her, and left. She slept from then until the next morning, the nurses said, had not slept so deeply or completely since arriving. When I returned the next day, she was awake, back to life, conscious, sitting in a chair, talking.
My mother healed completely – a miracle, her surgeon said a year later, when they ran into each other during one of my mother’s routine neurological exams. The surgeon was surprised to see her alive, much less fully functional and coherent.
Sometime around then, we discovered that my mother’s supernatural powers had been reactivated – this time, in the form of non-local healing energy. For years after, whenever I had a pain setback, I would call and tell her what was hurting. We would hang up the phone, and within minutes, I would feel a warmth in that area, the pain significantly lessened or gone altogether. It didn’t work the same every time, and it didn’t work every single time, but it was overall consistent and reliable, and my mother got more skilled at it, as she went along, developing one of those systems she always liked to develop.
My mother: a healer.
**If you enjoyed this excerpt, please consider becoming a patreon member, to support my writing – including the development of my new memoir, based on this story. You can get a free trial for one week, and you can cancel at any time, with no fees. You will receive original and unpublished content, including articles, poems, songs, and/or photos of original journal entries, where all my writing begins – depending on which membership level you choose.