M: I will.
R: He says, “We were inseparable.” He grins. “She organized me.”
G & M: (Laughing) That's absolutely right.
R: He is a very emotional man, and it is sometimes hard to hear what he is saying. “Tell her she is the best wife and mother. Tell her I love her.”
M: (Also emotional) I'll tell her.
R: Your father is talking about a new venture and (I know M's mother is an author) says there is a new contract signed. Do you understand?
M: Yes, totally.
R: Your father says, “This one will be even better than the last.”
M: Good, I hope he's right.
There were so many other things that M's father talked about, too much to recount here and many, many personal details. We finished the sitting in this way.
R: I can hear your mother quite clearly (This to G). She is giving me the name of Patti.
G: That's my sister, Patricia.
R: Your mother is calling out, “Tell her happy birthday, happy birthday.”
G: Oh, yes, my sister just had her birthday.
R: Your mother says, “Our greatest of God's gifts is our children. They are precious to us. Send them my love.” Then … “That gift is not taken from us when we die. We still see you. We surround you with our love.”
She talks about your ear. That you have had a problem with your ear. (This, a question from me)
G: Yes, I have always had problems with my ear, since I was small.
R: Your mother says she will send you healing. (Pause) Now M, I hear your father again. (He then describes, in detail, the areas and building in which he began his first business)
M: Incredible. That's so right.
R: (Again, as always, I check with Grey Eagle, who confirms I should continue) Your father talks of the company and of your plans to expand. (Do you understand what he means?)
M: Absolutely.
R: (Much advice given here) Then … “It will expand and do well. I will be watching.”
Now he talks in rhyme (this is symbolic); tell me if I confuse you.
R: And then the wolf tried again. The house did not blow down but shook a little.
M: It surely did.
R: You looked around and saw some cracks in the walls of the house, and then began streamlining. This had to be done, your father says, and must continue.
M: I understand.
R: (Much more is said now about the company) Then … “I know of the plans … don't worry, everything will work out fine. There will then be more expansion.” (He elaborates)
M: That is correct. I understand fully.
(Again much more is said. M's father talks of G & M's children, giving many personal details of their lives. Everything is understood.)
R: Now, M, your father would like to give you a special message (he says). To walk in God's way is to walk hand in hand towards that light which you know is there, and that light is representative of goodness and of truth, and of love. He shakes his head, and he tells me that you need no teaching, for you have been walking this way for a long time. He tells me you are good people. Genuinely, and from the heart, live your life to the full and have no regrets. For you need have no regrets.
As I am talking to you, M, he has moved around behind you and he puts his arms around your shoulders. His head is very close to yours, and, as in the old days, he says, he gives you a hug.
G, your mother is holding you and stroking your face (I see all of this). They are all crying, but your father, M, is very quick to point out that these are tears of joy. Joy in a coming together and of an understanding that we don't die.
“Never be afraid of this” (dying), he says to tell you. “Your apprehensions were unfounded. Never be afraid that you will lose me, for I will always be with you.” Then (with a twinkle in his eye), “I will be with you at the game tonight” (football). “I can't promise anything” (he laughs) “but” (pointing to Grey Eagle) “maybe he can.”
(Much laughter here from all of us.)
R: He (M's father) continues. “Be thankful for the love, the joy, and for the light. It is yours and we share it with you
“I love you, M,” I hear him call this clearly. I hear him call, “Be strong, and know that I am with you always.”
This consultation with M and G lasted for just over an hour and a half, and there were, as in most of my sessions with those in the spirit world, many, many incredible details. Sometimes such trivial and seemingly unimportant facts, but many of a much more profound nature— all, however, designed in one way or another to show that even after death we are still involved, as much as we want to be, with those we have left behind.
R: I am aware of a young man standing very close to you. He is in his early twenties. He tells me that his death was very sudden, very quick. He was a baby, just a few months old.
Rita: (Crying) I lost my son. He was four months old.
R: He says he could not breathe. A cot death, I think. There was some confusion as to why it happened.
Rita: Yes, that's right. It was a cot death.
R: I see the initial C.
Rita: His name is Christopher.
R: I hear Christopher say, “This is my mother.”
Rita: (Now crying again) Is he okay? Is he happy?
R: He is very eager to talk to you. To let you know that he is around you and that he has survived death.
Rita: I know he is often with me. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him.
R: I have asked him to give us, if he can, some more details, either about himself or about you. I hear the name Alan. Is there someone with that name?
Rita: My husband's name is Alan. Christopher's father.
R: Your son is talking to me about flowers. Yellow flowers. Some real, some silk?
Rita: (nodding and smiling) Yes, yes. I understand.
R: Then he shows me what looks like a romper suit. A baby's romper suit. Yellow. I also am being shown a small soft toy. I think it's a rabbit. No … wait… now I see the romper suit again, and stitched on the suit is a rabbit. The suit is yellow. Does this mean anything to you?
Rita: Christopher is describing the little romper suit he was buried in. It had a rabbit stitched on the front. We had yellow flowers on his coffin, and every year, on his birthday, when I visit his grave I take yellow flowers for him.
R: “Tell her I see her,” Christopher says, then … Christopher is showing me a photograph in a silver frame. I can see this photograph standing on some kind of dresser. Next to it, in a vase, I see yellow flowers. Christopher tells me the flowers are silk. “They are new,” he says. “They are new.”
Rita: Oh, Rosemary, he really can see, can't he? I bought the flowers only a few months ago. They are in a vase next to his baby photograph.
R: Christopher would like me to tell you that he has grown, and is a man now. That he visits you and Dad often. He talks of “his” drawer. And he is describing to me how you often sit on the bed, he says, open “his” drawer, and take “his” things out to look at them. He tells me how you cry so much because you have lost him.
Rita: Does he see me? Really?
R: In the drawer, Christopher's drawer, there are his baby clothes, wrapped, he tells me, in polythene.
Rita: Yes, that's right.
R: Also there is a bag full of cards. I think from what Christopher is saying that they are christening cards. (He then describes many other things in the drawer.)
Rita: (Crying and laughing at the same time) He really can see me. He really is there. Oh, Rosemary, this is amazing, wonderful.
R: (Smiling gently) Your son wants you to know that he did not die. He wants you to know that he has grown, that he is happy, and that one day you and his father will see him again.
Rita: Rosemary, I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you. I don't know what to say. (Crying now)
R: I am just pleased that your son was able to get through to you. He has waited for such a long time. I see him, a
nd can hear him clearly. He would like to give you just one more message.
Rita: Oh, yes! Oh, please.
R: “I love you, Mum.” I hear him say this clearly. He says again, “I love you, Mum. I am always with you. Tell my dad I didn't die. No more tears. Tell him that I am alive.”
I had met Rita while visiting a patient, Mark, whose story is also in this book. She was one of Mark's nurses, and although I had seen her there previously, this was the first opportunity that Rita had to ask me about healing.
It was as she began to ask me questions about my work that I saw him. He had been waiting for his opportunity, knowing that if I could, I would help him.
I knew that it was no coincidence that she, the nurse, was there. I knew too that he had planned it this way.
Twenty-two years is a long time to wait for a son to finally be able to talk to his mother. And for me, it was a privilege to be able to say to the nurse, “Rita, your son Christopher is truly alive, and is with you always.”
She had already made an appointment for herself and her husband to see me and was calling now to see if I could change it to a different day. I was about to say no, but something in her voice caught my attention.
“It seems impossible that day,” I said. “Is there a special reason?”
“Yes,” she said, sobbing. “It is my son's birthday.”
“Well then,” I said as gently as I could, “we had better find the time. You will have to come later in the day, but if you can manage that, then I'll see you both.”
Now it was June 21. The couple seated opposite me, in their mid-thirties, waited anxiously for me to begin. I do not remember their names. It is only their story that I recall.
R: (Beginning the sitting very quickly) I have a young boy wishing to communicate. Small, with dark hair. A little shy. I hope he is going to talk to me. (I ask him to tell me who he is.) “I'm Robert.” (I hear him.) “I'm sith today.” (I laugh, knowing that he means that he is six today.) “It's my birthday.”
She: (Crying) Yes, his name is Robert, and he is six today.
He: (Anxiously) Is he all right?
R: Please, don't ask questions, not yet. I want Robert to talk to me. (Now I ask Robert, if he can, to tell me how he died. Gently and with great patience, I encourage him to talk to me.) “I was on my bike [I say this to his parents], and a car came fast round the corner and skidded into me. My head hurt, but only for a little bit, then I came here.”
They: Yes, that's right, that's how he died.
R: Robert says, “They keep crying, and it makes me cry, too.”
She: Oh, no, please, we don't want him to cry.
R: (Very gently) Don't worry, he doesn't cry all the time. But he misses you, too, you know. (Then, laughing) “It's my birthday, I'm sith.”
They: Yes, that's right.
R: (As I work I see Grey Eagle standing close to the child, helping, encouraging him to talk to me—I continue, relaying the boy's messages.) He tells me that he was just four years old when he passed. Is that correct?
They: Yes. He was out playing, just outside the house. Quite safe. A car came around the corner too fast, hit the curb and bounced up onto the footpath. Robert was killed instantly.
R: He talks to me now about his brother and sister.
She: Yes, that's correct. We have two other children.
R: Robert tells me you are having a small birthday party today. He is quite excited. He tells me you have made him a birthday cake. I have asked him if there are any candles on the cake. He nods and I see him clearly. He is holding up six fingers.
She: (Crying) My baby has seen his cake. (Turns to husband, who is also crying) This is wonderful. I can't believe it.
The sitting continued, with Grey Eagle helping Robert to communicate. It lasted a long time, and Robert talked to his parents of many things. Because the accounts of his accident, birthday party, and many other things were so accurate, his parents were convinced, as I was, of Robert's survival after death. They will continue to celebrate his birthday, but now, even though there will always be sorrow, there will be joy in their knowing that he is still a part of them, still a part of their lives, growing happier and content, assured that they know he is alive.
I had visited Hong Kong many times and had many clients in the Far East. One of these was a lovely lady named Celia. It was on one of these visits that Celia and her husband, Bruce, came to see me for a consultation and many family members came through from the spirit world to talk to them. Bruce's grandmother was a particularly strong communicator, and through her they were given a profound and moving message that they were not to understand for some time—a message that helped them greatly when tragedy struck their lives.
Some twelve months passed, and I was back in England. The telephone rang one Sunday morning, and it was Celia.
C: Rosemary, is that you?
R: Yes, who is this, please?
C: (Calmly) You probably don't remember me. I know that you see and talk to so many people. (She then explains who she is.)
R: Yes, of course I remember you. What can I do for you? (Although she sounds calm, something in her voice tells me that she has to make a great effort when speaking to me. I know immediately that there is a problem.)
C: Rosemary (now struggling for control), there has been an accident. My son. Yesterday. He slipped and fell into the river. We have had such heavy rains here. All the rivers are flooded. The current was strong. (Now crying, still struggling for control) My son is missing. I know he's dead. (I feel Grey Eagle draw close to my side. I talk to her, try to calm her, and even as I do so I see her boy. “My name is Michael,” he says, and I wonder how I tell her what I see. She cuts into my thoughts.)
C: I don't know, Rosemary, if you can help me, but I have to know if he's safe. I know he's dead. I feel it. I know that it is a lot to ask of you, but could you just ask someone up there if my son is safe?
R: (I hear him call to me. “Tell her I'm safe. Please. She must know that I'm safe.”) Is his name Michael? (I ask this tentatively.)
C: Yes, oh yes! Is he safe?
R: I have a young boy here, Celia. He is around eleven years old. I can see him quite clearly. (I describe him.) He tells me his name is Michael.
c: Oh, thank God. He's safe, he's safe.
R: He tells me he was carried downriver.
C: Yes.
R: This is puzzling. He is talking about the waterfall. He says he was carried to the waterfall. Does this make sense to you?
C: Yes, yes. The river leads into a huge waterfall, which goes directly into the sea.
R: Michael is talking to me. He wants you to know that he did not go into the sea. (Now Michael shows me, and just as if I were watching a home video, the picture unfolds before my eyes.) I see first of all not a large river, more a stream.
C: Yes, that's right.
R: I see Michael sliding down the bank. The bank is soft and crumbles. His body is carried downstream, and now… I can see a huge waterfall. (Celia is now sobbing, and I ask her gently if she would like me to stop.)
C: No. Oh, no. Please, Rosemary, I need to hear this.
R: Michael is describing what happened as he reached the edge of the waterfall. I can see his body as it goes over the edge. But wait… Oh, this is wonderful. Michael says, “Tell her, tell my mum …” As his body goes over the waterfall, I see Michael. I see him leave his body. He seems to fly upward. I hear him say, “I flew like a bird, up, up, up. Angels came to fetch me. They carried me, up, over the waterfall, to fly like a bird. It was bright. A bright light shining. They (angels) took me into it, and now I'm safe. Mum, can you hear me? I'm safe.”
C: (Still crying) Thank God, thank God. Oh, Rosemary, thank you. You don't know how you have helped me.
A few days later Celia called again. She had been listening to a tape she had made of her sitting with me in Hong Kong, prior to Michael's death, when her husband's grandmother had come through to give them a message.
“
My husband's grandmother had talked to us about God and about the ways that God can help us in our lives. But one thing she said to us that we did not understand at the time. I'm sure she meant for us to know now. We were told, ‘God may sometimes ask of us a blessed sacrifice, just as He asked of Christ. A sacrifice we may find so hard to give, so painful will it be. But remember what I say to you. When God asks this of us, there is a reason. We may never know what that reason is. But God knows. And when He asks of us this blessed thing, He gives us the tools to cope, the strength to survive.’
“You cannot know, Rosemary, how hearing this makes me feel. I play the tape over and over. It comforts me greatly. I know that Michael's death was meant to be. For what reason I do not know, but I know that he is with God, my blessed sacrifice, so painful to me. But I know that he is where he belongs, where he is meant to be. I talk to him every day. I feel he is with me. I know that he is safe.”
There are many reasons why people here on earth are “good” or “bad.” Some of us are “good” or “bad” because we enjoy our lives better that way. Others perceive that living a “good” life will earn them brownie points, that somewhere God is watching and keeping score. Living life in a “bad” way is, for some, an open act of defiance to a God they perceive as a judging God. Others might say, “Well, what is the incentive for being good when I don't believe in God?;
But life is not about being good or bad or earning points. Life is about learning and about the discovery of the soul and the needs of the soul. And “good” or “bad” can simply be a right or a left turn on the path which leads to that discovery. Life is not about earning a place in heaven. It is enough for the soul that the life of the soul continues on. That the soul grows stronger.
Throughout this book you will read stories of survival after death. Each tells of a journey, a breakthrough, and the embracing of the light. But do we all journey toward the light? Does God accept us all? Even those who have committed evil deeds?
It is my belief, based on my experience, that the answer is yes.
The Eagle and the Rose Page 11
