My original plan was to post an entry on August 3, 2018, the eleventh anniversary of "Tony's" death. The day fell apart for a variety of reasons, none of them interesting. I let sadness and regret smother me for days. I procrastinated. On 8.7.2018, at 1:20AM, I made myself write him a letter. Of course, something happened. I didn't expect him to take over. First I heard him and started to write down what I was hearing. And then I closed my eyes and let him write through me. It was easier. The outcome of that effort follows. You will know when he's speaking.
Hey -
I've been putting this off because I didn't want to face that you've been gone - crossed over - transitioned - for eleven years as of 8.3.2018. And this year has been especially difficult, but you know that! I had to relive so many things writing the first draft of the screenplay. The operative word is first, because there will be many revisions. 'Tis the nature of the business. So I will have to go through this again and again until it's right with the truth still in tack.
I know you're not "dead." You're over there, in that other realm, and the older I get the more appealing that other realm seems. Seems is a misleading word because you've given me more than a glimpse. The vastness and beauty of the afterlife is truly beyond articulation. (You think it means anything that a white moth just landed on the hand written copy of this?) But this is for our readers. It's because of you that we have readers. It's because of you I'm finally doing the work I always wanted to do. It's because of you that I want to go on living. Funny how that worked out, isn't it? I see you grinning, leaning against something that looks like a half wall. You have those khaki Bermuda shorts on. Your arms are crossed. How many women melted when they saw that grin?
What do you want the readers to know? (What follows came directly from him through me. I hesitate to use the word channeled but I think that's the most accurate word we have right now.)
"...death is not the end, but life must be met, confronted, engaged, mastered...
...don't fear the moment of transition, the path to that moment is in our hands...
...be prepared for a busy afterlife...
...your spiritual life is critical, don't keep it separate - weave it into your life on earth, you keep telling people that. They should listen!
...everybody does have a mission ranging from the very personal to the public enormity of making social change... You would've said that differently but they will understand.
Your uncle was right and the time is coming. He told you that you would make a difference and you are. (You made a difference with me.) Lucinda was right, you keep secrets my love, not bad secrets but secrets born of humility and shyness. I've gotten much smarter over here.
Tell them to make use of every minute they have over there, on earth. I didn't.
...work for happiness. You were destined to be my happiness.
...embrace love. I blew it. I didn't do that soon enough with you. I waited. I wish I hadn't - but you are formidable! I want you to be happy while you're still there, and I know what you've told me. I wish it were different. You are so different.
Tell them that love is the magic, the miracle, the truth.
All the things you've heard about earth are true. It is a school - a spirit school. Scientists will prove the afterlife exists. They're on the verge of it now. They're struggling with how to present it in the face of so much materialism. That's not a word I use. It's fear that's stopped them. Fear is the struggle.
Tell them what's coming.
Tell them to prepare.
You were born for these times. Many around you won't survive earth.
I'm always here for you. Don't doubt that. Don't doubt the meditation. Tell them about the meditations. Tell them about the colors over here. Eben Alexander is focusing on the sounds, the music, but it's the colors you're amazed by. I have to stop. You're running low.*"
I love you, and the Spirit of all that is loves you too.
(*He was referring to the energy I need to sustain the connection.)
This is one of many blue abstract pastels I did when writing White Roses. Why blue? It's his favorite color.