“….Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures….”
“Last Night As I Lay Sleeping” by Antonia Machado
My mother died on New Years Day, and my heart was broken open. I began to see the patterns that had kept my heart trapped my entire life. It was as if I was looking through the eyes of my mother, being feed the sweet honey of her wisdom of a life lived for love over 88 years. I now could open my heart to her love and receive the gift of her loving wisdom.
I came to visit her the day before her passing, she was sedated and snoring. I spoke with her knowing on a deeper level she was hearing me. I told her how much we all loved her, and thanked her for bringing us all here. I told her it was ok for her to go, it was ok to let go. Just then, I felt a surge of energy pour into me from her and move through my body and out the top of my head. It was surprising, and at that moment I knew some part of her had gone, and some part of her remained in me. A transmission of her love, her last gift to me. She died early on New Year’s Day around 6 a.m. and about 5 a.m. I woke to get a drink of water, and saw my car emergency lights were on! A strange sight, I went out to check on my car and saw the emergency lights button was pushed into the on position. I knew then my mother had passed. I spoke to her, and let her know I got the message.
The next day I saw and felt her spirit around me and when I was finally able to get some sleep, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw her spirit standing over me at the foot of my bed. Another dream came where I heard her knocking on my door. Later the next day, I went and sorted through some of her things and brought some home, and placed some on my altar for her. She speaks to me mostly through my heart, and I am listening. She is teaching me more deeply about love.
I see my mother in the birds, when I went to her house to continue sorting through some things, a hawk flew in front of my car as I turned onto her street, and then again on the day I went to pick up her ashes, the hawk flew circling over my car as I made my way home with them. One morning a beautiful finch sang a lovely song to me as I sat on my porch drinking tea and I felt the joy of it’s song and the presence of my Mom. When I set up my altar for my mother, burning candles for her journey, I had the urge to include a group of Canadian Geese feathers I was gifted years ago. The story behind the feathers goes, one day I was driving with my mother to treat her to lunch, and as we passed the creek by her house, a group of Canadian Geese came up out of the water and began to walk toward us. Just then a dog came after them chasing them into the street. A cacophony ensued with feathers everywhere, and as the geese crossed the street in front of my car, they left a bunch of feathers behind. I got out of the car and gathered them up and brought them home, keeping them for some purpose I did not know. My mother had looked at me with curious amusement and asked, “What are you going to do with those?” Now as I placed them on the altar for my mom, I recalled the event of that day and the gift left behind. I counted them as I carefully placed each feather on the altar. I saw there were 4 large feathers, one for each of her children, and 9 smaller feathers, one for each of her grandchildren. The gaggle she left behind and gifted to the world, like each of those feathers. She is on her own migration of spirit now, may swift winds carry her soul home. Later she appeared in a dream once more, to let me know where she landed. A beautiful lake reflecting a luminous pink on it’s mirrored surface. She told me, ” This is how I look now!” She made it home.
3 thoughts on “Honey Hearted”
thank you for sharing this. it reminded me of the beauty in the passing of my own Mom. If only we could live in this awareness all the time. All the best to she who “departs” and to she who remains. Though you show so clearly that love doesn’t go anywhere. With roses.
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Dreams have been such an important bridge to my ancestors and departed loved ones over the years. I am so grateful for the gifts dreams continue to bring!
Thank you Richelle for your sharing meaningful response. Death is an initiation for the living and the departed.