I see my four-year-old self, crouching beside my dad. Observing my younger sister lying on the grass. Her lips blue. Hair wet. Dad trying desperately to breathe in life. This is the beginning of my life while grieving.
I hear uncontrollable sobbing from my classmates. Grieving the loss of our fellow student, killed in a motorcycle accident at the age of twelve.
I feel my hands gently rubbing my father-in-laws’ feet, only hours before he passes from our presence.
My Life While Grieving
I observe giant generators attempting to illuminate the night of an otherwise eerily dark and silent town. War-like images. It was an F4 tornado. An unrelenting giant shop vac in reverse. Spewing out over 1,900 homes and over 17,000 trees–this is our town.
I feel the ear pressure of yet another tornado. I hear the cracks, as they chew up and spit out my own back yard, killing acres of trees. This is my home.
I hear my husband’s voice. Alone, horror stricken, in gut-wrenching agony. Sharing his worst nightmare. He was the only one with his best friends’ brother—when he hit the tree.
The Nudge of Angels
I see black and blue tire abrasions on my father’s chest as he lay in the funeral home.
I feel the nudge of angels while riding my motorcycle. Forcing me into a surgery that then led me to another that would remove Stage 3 colon cancer.
I feel the test of godlessness. My husband is diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. I hear…”more tests”, watch the rise and fall of steroids—the affects of chemo, radiation, and more surgeries.
I offer my faith. Time and time again. Pledging “I faithfully exchange my fears for amazing and abundant results”.
I replay unbelievable images, and hear the sigh of exasperation, as our home of twenty-five years is totally engulfed in flames. Looking up into the heavens I ask “What are you trying to tell us?”
I feel the gratefulness of my husband’s daily living. Infusing our new home with his love.
I hear the angels singing a joyous “Allelluia” through a family members’ phone–as my husband crosses over to the other side.
I cherish the overflowing love and gratitude I experience, while sitting in a park. Receiving a message from my late husband…“I am right here beside you.”
I trust. Filled with an inner peace—what begins as “I am right here beside you.” evolves into ‘Dear One: A Message of Love, about Grief, Loss and the Art of Healing’.
See more about Michelle Kaisersatt’s book here: Book — The Soul Remains | Soul Work | Michelle Kaisersatt