TheBereavementJourney.com
Title
The Bereavement Journey
Description
When I was about 7 or 8 years old, I remember that I became very ill. I was running a high fever and was put to bed. I know that I was not dreaming. I was walking through this beautiful valley. Baby animals were grazing all around me and a mist of white light encompassed me. I followed it over a hill where I was greeted by the outstretched arms of what appeared to be Jesus. I felt this warmth and this overwhelming sense of unconditional love. I also saw my great grandmothers who had died when I was too young to have remembered them, and it was not necessary for them to introduce themselves, as I instinctively knew who they were. I felt so loved, wanted, and secure and did not want to leave. I was told telepathically (mind to mind), that it was not my time and I had to go. I didn't want to leave and started to cry. I was guided back "home" through my kitchen window. I was sitting on the kitchen floor in my pajamas. I cried and cried longing to go back.
As young as I was, I knew that my life had forever changed. And it did. I knew that this life was only one of many and as difficult as it was, there was a purpose in it, and I had to figure out what that purpose was. When I was feeling better, I was told that my friend, who lived 2 doors away, had died. He was my age and had contracted meningitis. I remember feeling very, very sad. I was shocked too. This was an 8-year-old boy. I played with him all the time. As shocked and saddened as I was by his death, I was more shocked and fascinated by the reactions of those around me. Although I know that they meant well at the time, I was told to stay away from his house because everyone was terrified that meningitis was contagious, and that we too, could die.
As I walked to school I would cross the street when I came upon his house. I was supposed to stay far away. I would look at the house from the corner of my eye and see that the drapes were drawn. Eventually that family moved away. It was not until the death of my own child did I realize just how devastated that family must have been. First, they lost their son, and then they lost the community and home that they had lived in for at least 10 years.
Languages
English
Contact
- Christopher Bowcott
-
- Winnipeg Manitoba
- Canada R2W1X9
-
- (204)589-2790
