A Message for My Son
Reiki in Peru
I went to Reiki for the second time this week on my trip to Peru. Before the session, the lady senses what you might need for the session and sends prayers your way. Usually, Reiki works on the energy centers of your body. I aim to balance out the centers so the energy will move freely. Apparently, she also does some work with "Family Constellations," whatever that is. She sent this to me before the session amid other things:
"There is also a man of white light who watches over & protects you. It could be an ascended master or a grandparent of yours with beautiful energy."
—
The session was primarily focused on healing my "inner child," but I think someone else had something else in mind.
The session started, and I tried to open up and relax. Relax. Relax. I didn't want to force it, but after some time, I wanted to see who my protector might be. My grandpa Ford recently messaged me saying that his dad loves to travel and would have loved to do what I am doing now. So I thought he might be the guy. But I hesitated because I hardly knew him.
After relaxing some more, I began to see the white light. Relax. Relax.
I asked why Great Grandpa Ford had come, but it wasn't him. It was Grandpa Pea.
The white light morphed into the Eberwine living room. I found myself in the living room near the chair he passed away. I was little like 3rd grade so I looked up on the chair on grandpa in his frail state.
For some reason, I had the stupid question of what death was like?
[Words will fall short of any description I try to make in the following text. There were clear words at times, but often, there was a non-propositional essence to the things being communicated. It's like trying to describe what music is to an alien. It will fall short.]
Nevertheless, from the living room scene, I entered a wave cresting from right to left. I was the crest until the last wave crashed into geometric patterns and nothingness.
I thought of the quote from Ram Dass: "Like slipping off old clothes."
Then we were in a new place—a light hill. I looked up to him, and he looked more like his younger self, like the photo below. He seemed to have a bounce in his step, especially compared to where I first saw him.
I wondered why he was helping me. I thought maybe it was because he has more male energy, and that is what I need. I don't know.
I asked, "Why not Grandma Pea? I was much closer to her?
[I sensed some apprehension. Some avoidance like he wanted to communicate but wasn't sure how.]
He said, "She made me."
I felt that Grandma cared for me and encouraged Grandpa to come out. I could now sense Grandma Pea from afar, also looking young.
But I felt the sense that Grandpa had something more to say. Yes, of course, they were loving me, but there was more.
More was to be said, but I hugged her and flashed memories of being with her. For some reason, mowing the lawn and how she would occasionally throw out the guilt treatment, haha! More about that later because, at the moment, that felt like the side mission.
Me: Why are you here?
[Once again, he felt apprehensive because there was a lot of emotional weight]
Grandpa: My Son
[ the perspective of a father (grandpa) loving his son (dad) washed over me. From the first moments seeing him to growing older. Loving him through all his faults and flaws. I see the baby picture in the pink room near the living room. It is hard to put into words the depth of the words "My Son" quivered from Grandpa's mouth. Paternal love pours over. He cries, and I begin crying beneath my blindfold because of the weight of the sincerity of the love.
[In direction to my dad]
He seems proud of you for taking the leap with locksmithing and what you have done with your family.
[I see my dad's face with the new perspective of him once being a son. He reminds me that a lot of the stuff I am working through, like expressing myself, not being hard on myself, and feeling more deeply, is the same for him. ]
Grandpa: Don't be afraid.
My mind wanders a little bit, and I ponder what it's like where they are. I notice the sense that I am going off-topic. They say it's beautiful, but damn, they miss their kids.
[ I see visuals and emotions of what the wild family must have been like. Almost like they are replaying the memory thinking of you.]
Grandma and Grandpa: We miss you and love you so much.
They now stood together like the image above.
Speaking of children, I know I thought of Jim! I saw Jim beside them. First, I saw Jim of old and then Jim of young, with a bowl cut happily waving from the side like someone from the Beatles. He was just happy to be there and listened like five feet away.
I continued to feel SO MUCH LOVE FOR THEIR CHILDREN. It still chokes me up to write it now. Them grandma said
Grandma: Love each other. All of you.
From there, I embraced grandma, thinking of memories with her and other stuff like playing qwirkle with her or her sharing how she was proud of my faith. She was proud of me for doing the eulogy on behalf of the grandkids at her funeral. I could see from her perspective her loving embrace as she watched me a couple feet behind as I gave the speech. Then, there were more hugs and some humor. I told her not to cheat in qwirkle in heaven. She cackled.
I forget when this happened, but for some reason, I saw her in the laundry room, now older, as if she never passed away. It seemed like a deja vu moment, as if I had been in this scene before. I felt guilty because I hadn't seen her in a while at her house, and she was all alone. Then, a wave filled the room and washed away the guilt.
She was again herself in the photo. She seemed to admire me seeing her brother, Deacon Earl, a couple weeks ago.
I was thanking them but also felt like, "Are you going to stay here all session?!" "I love you, but I have some more stuff to do," I asked for their help in other areas, but they were unsure what they could do but tried.
It was clear they had a purpose: to remind their son and his brother and sisters how much they love you.
They left the center of focus but remained a felt sense.