VERACITIES OF LIGHT

Good Day Cosmic Travelers!

       At 7:25 P.M. on Saturday, February 2, 1991, my Father passed away of Pancreatic Cancer. My encounter with his  transition profoundly affected my perception and belief about infinity and its bond to being. Life after death was no longer merely a theoretical possibility, but an unambiguous actuality ascertained after perceiving Daddy’s transitory. His transition bestowed the distinct insight upon me that his presence would flower beyond the mere existence of flesh, thought and heart. As I walked into futurity, I feared not the inevitability of mortality, for I esteemed the veracities of light evolving around my being.

           For 45 days after his diagnosis,  Daddy was left in a black void unconsciously disabled to transition because of his tormented past: a pale shadow of a man lay motionless staring into empty space ...

              but then all of a sudden his eyes dilated and  lit up as a faint light appeared and hovered close to the ceiling of the living room.

Then a huge beam of illuminating pure light completely engulfed the room and bathed Daddy in brilliant ease and acceptance. He had an irresistible almost magnetic attraction to the light, and as his eyes widened to draw in that which we saw not, and his hands reached out to touch that which our eyes were blind, he began communicating with beings that we could not hear but we could FEEL. From his responses we could tell he was glimpsing the multiple spirits of relatives and friends as he blew kisses, acknowledging them by name and voicing how much he missed and loved them.

From his facial expressions, we likened an extraordinary viewing of a rapidly expanding panoramic review of his life, and it was obvious someone or something  was provoking reflections and questions. The emotions and feelings associated with the images reflected in the dilation of his eyes as if he was viewing a wide-screen television and was afraid to blink in fear of missing something. His brows raised in startled alertness, his mouth opened in awe, his head bobbed as if he questioned with curiosity what death and beyond were offering.

At first seemed he seemed anxious: his voice crying out in fright, his facial expressions turning to anger as he expressed bitterness for his transition into death. He kept proclaiming he was not ready, “Not now!” he shouted, persistently  insisting he was not going to leave his children. Fitfully, now, at the end of his life,  he was finally  realizing the gift alcoholism had wasted for twenty-five years and he found himself desperately clinging onto one more precious second of living. In  the last seconds of his life, I am sure, my father saw not the past nor present but the endless possibilities of the life that might have been.

 Daddy aged twenty years as the cancer bled life from his very being, accelerating the aging process and he evaporated before our very eyes, becoming a mere shadow of the man he once had been: his hands dissolving bony and transparent with protruding blue veins that looked like the electronic traces of a circuit board, his skin tone bleaching into a milky iridescent illusion and the ghostly gray of hair that lay in a halo against the back of his lounger stripping the black, with his brows long and grizzly white flared out to blend in with the wiry hair mounting out of his ears.

After four hours of staring into the ethereal light, he appeared sanctified with intense feelings of solitude, love, and at last tranquility – just a peaceful quietness - a vanishing of all his worries: there was not any more pain or struggle in his face or actions, just a calm silence existence. His steely gaze seemed to traverse some ethereal mystery that penetrated a place neither he nor I had yet to travel.

When he found himself approaching the barrier between earthly life and the next in a faint and fragile softness, and with a great sigh of relief, he victoriously announced he was ready and called out all our names to make sure we were there. I clutched his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze good-bye and as  peace radiated from his face, he decreed, “I love you, Share,”  took his final breath and staring into the light, we watched the last of life scale his eyes as he slipped into the peaceful state of eternal rest. 

"Donna ... Donna, snap out of it!" I looked up from the street corner in Phoenix and a little girl went running towards her mother as I threw my head back in laughter. 

Angels: risen angels, living angels, loving angels, breathing wings of godliness in every crowd ... every face ... every heart ... every spirit. Can your sincerity not see the light of their being, or are they invisible to the spectrum of your lens that shelters faith? Can your spirit not sense the wings of godliness encircling the tingling energy beyond the aura of your own vibration? Reach deep into the light of trust, knowing nudities of compassion shall sanction the enlightenment of the unseen, the unheard and the uncertain.

Silent gentle beings around us, guarding us, carrying us and protecting us. Messengers delivering thoughts as true and pure as the driven snow, entities bearing silent powers that emit evil through the awakening of good, and the performance of endless miracles cast upon eyes anew.

Impact! Angels we choose to let in, those who wander in unexpectedly, those veracities of light who soar to broaden wings of godliness and those who birth awakenings across a planet sanctioned into the communion of enlightenment for a species carefully woven as one. We all bond through the compassion of humanity for a reason beyond the scope of our realization, and in one split second leave imprints on the grains of eternal passages.
All of us are ANGELS for WE NEVER KNOW while  traveling through down our cosmic path which street corner will echo our voice  ...  our actions ... our energy and cause another to look to the heavens and reflect on the magnificence surrounding us and bow their head in THANKS!
NIshli-nil, d. Until ......