When I was about four, one of my favorite things to do was to pour salt on garden snails. I liked to watch them fizz. Daddy couldn't watch. I didn't know why. I didn't understand that the snails were screaming as they were dying. I only thought the bubbles were very fascinating.
I had seen hunting growing up. My uncle shot a rabbit at the desert with his pistol. It wasn't a clean hit, it broke a leg, but it kept running. We had to follow it and put it out of its misery. My uncle showed me how the fur was full of fleas and it had been suffering even before it was shot. I was sad.
At the same desert, there were pack rats. Once, while exploring an abandoned house, my uncle saw one run under a piece of wood and stomped on it. It died. Its eyes were protruding, which again, I thought was fascinating. I even took a picture of it.
My paternal grandfather had a stroke. It was sudden and there was irreversible damage from the bleeding in his head. My father and his siblings had to decide with his wife to 'pull the plug'. At the Rosary I was asked to lead the people in attendance. It was my first time at a funeral, my first time up at the lectern at church, and my first time saying the Rosary. I felt a power I had never felt coursing through me as I said the words aloud from the page in front of me. Everyone in the family said how much it helped them feel better to say the Rosary together. It was my first time experiencing the power of the Other Side.
My maternal grandfather said goodbye to me in spirit. I had bought a baseball cap for him from my Medical School. Spirit had said he won't wear it, don't buy it for him. But I was stubborn and I bought it anyway. When I went to visit at Thanksgiving he gave me a care package like usual. Inside was a jar of apricot fruit spread that was too expensive for me to buy. I had actually picked up the same jar at the store and put it back because I couldn't afford it. He had written a note: Ciao, Ciao, Ciao.
My heart skipped a beat. He acknowledged earth, spirit and heaven with the three words. He was saying goodbye to me, and I understood his time was short. I ran and threw myself on the bed, sobbing hysterically, and yelling at Blessed Mother and Heaven for not letting me say a goodbye to HIM! I had faithfully taken messages from them for about six months. Gently, Blessed Mother helped me understand that he wanted to say goodbye in his own way. I quieted down and cried with early grief.
But after careful phone calls and caution, normalcy returned. I focused on my studies. One day I got the call that Nannu was not doing well, he was at the hospital, and had died. This was after a morning spent going roller skating with friends and feeling something was terribly wrong but I could not put my finger on it. My father and brother in law drove down to pick me up. I spent the night at my grandparent's house, and on the couch his Spirit came to me. He said words in Sicilian and I wrote them down. I didn't understand them. It turned out he said that my uncle's girlfriend/wife had disrespected him. He had forbid her to go to the house. But my uncle married her anyway. (He was right, she was after my uncle's money. This was my first experience with mediumship.)
When my father passed, I was there. And he gave me a message that he was seeing Heaven. He blinked his eyes slowly and moved his head from left to right as if he was seeing a panorama. When the chaplain anointed him, I saw it too! The whiter than White Castle gates of heaven, with bricks and a drawbridge. Some tall, fierce military type angels accompanied him over the bridge. He didn't say goodbye except for that message. The next day I woke up and felt lips on mine, even though I live alone. It frightened me. It was my father saying goodbye.
I saw him at the funeral, up in the rafters, watching the family and his send off.
But I didn't get to grieve. The day after he passed, and he had passed around eight p.m., I had my first day at a new job. I didn't want them to think I was unstable. I kept it to myself. Once the funeral was planned I requested the day off, and it was given, and the team was very supportive. Actually my new boss was like a father figure to me, and I appreciated it very much.
My Nana Angelina was my closest family member. I was there when she passed. I got to help her walk up the ramp to the entry place, up to where I couldn't go any more. I saw her very young, healthy, delighted to be out of her body. I saw who met her, and the big party to welcome her.
Sadly, the woman who was covering me on my OB shift wanted me to go relieve her. She had been there all day. My grandmother passed at six p.m. and by eight I was back on call doing epidurals. I couldn't grieve. When my mom passed, I was there. I had to work the next day. And I was literally in shock, I couldn't even eat. But a friend sent food, enough to feed us for a week so I wouldn't have to cook.
When Anthony was a newborn, my African Fat-Tailed gecko Pink Floyd had gotten very skinny and not been interested in food. He died. I felt so guilty for not being able to save him! Even though spirit said it was time, I regretted that death for at least twenty years.
My son dreamed of our pet rabbit saying goodbye to him about three weeks ago. He told me. He also refused to spend the night at our house that day, because he was afraid to wake up with her dead.
She was a rescue. Someone gave her up because she was very aggressive and hurt the other rabbits instead of bonding with them. We did not like each other at the beginning, although my son was thrilled to have her. He had two dogs, boxers, with his father, but with my schedule dog ownership was impossible. He loved rabbits. She stayed near him while he was downstairs playing his video games. On my long shifts where he had to stay home alone, she was his companion.
She loved bananas. She grew to trust me. And I fell in love with her. Did she ever need care, too! She couldn't clean herself and got urine scalds and poopy butt. The veterinarian said it was from her being overweight. But also, I think the people who spayed her messed up her plumbing down there. Once a week I had to do 'fecal floatation' and when it got very bad, give her medicine, critical care feedings, and wound care. This is eleven years of perineal care for a rabbit.
I was not surprised by Anthony's disclosure.
I had seen her lying on her side with the eyes that don't see, and I said, 'NO!' and she woke up. This happened shortly before her dream. She was ready to die. I would not let her.
Then on October 10, while I was cooking, I heard banging in her cage. Loud. I looked and she was having a seizure! I soothed her and once it finished helped her stand back up. I asked for a Reiki Request for her, and really, for me too. I was not ready to let her go.
For the next seventeen days, she ate normally. She didn't groom the rest of her like normal, her fur looked a little ragged, but she was happy. When I brushed her and then changed her cage, Spirit told me that was the last time I was going to be changing it.
Again, I was in denial. Both for spirit and for her. I was thinking that perhaps she was going to cheat death? Maybe live another two years as a senior? I enjoyed spending time near her, folding clothes. I didn't want to say goodbye.
On Tuesday, October 27, I was shocked to see she had made a mess in her new cage (I had just changed the litter again). All the layers were mixed up in a jumble! And also, she couldn't stand up. I picked her up like before to get her on her feet, and they wouldn't hold her. I understood her time was near. I didn't want it, but the doctor part of me understood. And the sounds from the night before that made me think she was rearranging her cage was actually her trying to get up but I didn't understand.
My heart ached. I was in the kitchen getting ready for work with my usual routine. I saw her perk up her ears and lift her head to make eye contact with me across the room. That was my goodbye and I love you from her.
At the very last possible minute, I stroked her, said goodbye, and told her to go to Jesus. I apologized for having to go. Weeks earlier she had told me 'not to cry'. And this time, she said, telepathically, 'I want you to go and take care of those cancer patients.'
So I did.
It was very hard.
I didn't want to go home that night. It was a late shift.
I had told Anthony in the morning that she couldn't stand up. He made a point to go home a day early.
During work, I saw Jesus holding the bunny. She looked happy in His arms. He took her little paw and waved it to me. That is when I knew she had passed. And even though she was alone at the time, I had full trust in Him and knew she was in the best possible care.
I also saw Her as the True Angel she was. I didn't catch her name. But she was a willowy, almost elf-like brunette and I understood she had completed her assignment and done well. She was very beautiful and ethereal in her True Form.
I came home a little before he did. I kept the lights off, and listened for signs of life but I heard none. I didn't want to know.
Anthony said she had passed. We found a box for her. I got her lavender towel, and placed it in the box. Gently, Anthony picked her up and placed her in the box. He let me pet her one last time, and he petted her soft fur. I picked a rose and placed it on her chest. I got holy water from the Mother Cabrini pilgrimage and sprinkled it on her. He dug a deep hole near the banana tree. He worked hard and sweated and had to rest two times. We buried her in the dark. He made the hole deep to protect her from the rats in the neighborhood.
I have been in shock ever since.
I found a group online, for people whose rabbits have died. The founder of the group is extremely protective and supportive of the page. It has helped.
Friends online have shared their condolences.
One friend, a physician, is posting daily content about his experiences losing his beloved husky, and how a new one found him who was even a better fit for his personality. I understand the caring and support.
When Ross and I were alive the first time, he died and had me buried alive with him like in the opera Aida. We were religious and he was a leader. We did sacred things, and he didn't want anyone to have access to me. It was not a good way to die. But I understood.
The second time, again he predeceased me. It was sudden. And I couldn't take care of his body with a proper burial. Although I lived, survival was really hard. I couldn't speak, I went mute. And there was a neighbor who would rape me when it rained because I couldn't be heard. Despite my struggles, I was a midwife same as always. And I helped bring a wonderful soul into the world, a memorable one, who I would meet in the next life. I had done this the night my loving husband died. He had taken me to deliver the infant. We had been out after curfew. We were chased, we split up and they chased him. That is how he died. And how he died for me to live.
The last time, we were prepared in a spiritual sense. Despite my grief, I had a job to do, and I did it. I prepared the body.
His plan worked.
So I was chased, hunted down like an animal. I continued his work, but they found us and destroyed everything. The wound festered and affected all of my subsequent incarnations. Including this one.
When I lay down to sleep at night, I ask for comfort. I share how much I miss our pet. And I can feel her presence next to my chest, warm and soft, like in life. She is between us as we embrace, Ross and I.
I tell him I trust Spirit, I trust the plan. How I am sad but I accept everything. And deep down, I know that there are things planned for the Highest Good.
For all my life before our bunny, I was devastated because my allergies made it impossible to have a soft, warm, loving pet like a cat or dog. I was very jealous and angry at God for making me like this. When the rabbit came into our lives, I knew it was meant to be. And I enjoyed the softness that didn't make me sneeze. Rabbits are NOT cuddly. They are prey creatures. But when I cleaned her, I got my snuggles in right before she went back into the cage. She tolerated me. On the last time, I told her mama loves you and gave her a kiss. I am so glad she died in a clean cage.
Today was very hard. I had to throw out her medicines, to arrange to return her items I had ordered by subscription, and clean up her area for good. We had thrown away the cage. I took her crate on wheels that held her food (it says TREASURE) and I found another use for it.
We have soul ties.
When a loved one Transitions, the energy flow changes, although the ties remain intact.
This causes a wound in the aura.
It has to heal.
They say when you are depressed, help another. And I did.
Our great grandmother who has been on hospice for the year has taken a turn for the worse. She is in a hospital bed, and unable to swallow.
When I found out I said I would visit if I had a short day. I actually did, but I was too emotionally vulnerable and energetically drained to go. But the next day, even after a fourteen hour shift, I went. And by example, I showed the family how to interact with the dying. To stroke the arm, to talk soothing, to be normal in my interactions. I reviewed the medicines. I suggested since changing the diaper is uncomfortable and upsetting for great grandmother, to give the sedative a little before. It was due anyway.
The family was deeply comforted by my presence. And my knowledge of basic nursing techniques helped with the diaper change--I helped too. It is very sad about her imminent passing. Once already I have seen her, on spirit side, and she is on to me now, and let me know she knows who I am back Home.
The rest is to let time take its course.
I share because everyone is our teacher. Every situation is designed to help us learn something important as a soul. But some lessons are very painful. It can need lifetime after lifetime to master them. I still have work to do with this lesson on loss. I have made tremendous progress, though. Both in learning to honor my need to grieve, and to make time for it whenever possible. I am sharing this lesson to help you on your learning, and if it is something you can apply to your life, then, it is good.
Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,
Peace,
Ross and Carla
The Couple