Talk to Me (12 page)

During the reading, Ron's father also came through with Kelly, saying ‘Happy St Patrick's Day'. We knew immediately what he meant: that was Ron's dad's birthday. Allison explained this was Kelly's way of letting Ron know that she was with his dad and he was okay. This meant a lot to Ron. His father also said Ron needed to get his heart checked. I keep telling Ron he needs to follow through on this. He says he had a complete physical a few months ago and his heart checked out fine. I'm working on him, though . . .

Allison said there was also a white, fluffy cat with Kelly and we should ask the family who it belonged to. We later found out. My sister June, who lives interstate, called me a few days after the reading. As we were talking about it, she said when her cat had died she thought she had felt Kelly sitting on the bed next to her. I asked her what colour her cat was and she replied, ‘White with some brown, and long hair.' I told her that her cat was with Kelly.

Ron and I are both so grateful for being able to have this reading with Allison. It was a great gift for all of us, and it has helped me accept my daughter's absence with a little less pain. Kelly mentioned in our reading that I talk to her every day and that I'm not crazy. I do talk to her every day and I have asked her if I'm crazy. It's good to know I'm not! She also said I send her love every day and she sends it back. I will never stop missing her being here physically, and I will never stop missing our daily phone calls. But, now, at least, I know for sure that she is happy and with my grandmother again—and that she is still around us, too. Thank you, Allison . . . and thank you, Kelly.

4
Living with life and
dealing with death

T
his chapter is dedicated to our friend Dr Jim Hayes and his wife, Dot. He inspired the writing of this chapter when he opened my eyes by sharing his journey of dying with me. I've dealt with the grieving for years, but I haven't delved into walking with the dying and hearing in their own words how they cope with a death sentence. Jim was admired by all who knew him, and I hope by sharing his story that maybe he can teach you something, too (see pp. 18–33).

Obviously, when a friend or family member finds out that someone they love is going to die, they're at a loss for words. What do you say to the person whom you love who's searching your eyes for the answer to ‘Why me?'

They are waiting for you to tell them that this isn't real, that it's all been a big mistake. Nobody prepares us for death. We are barely prepared for life. But life somehow feels more natural because we have some control over where we go in it.

Because of my gift, I've served in the trenches between life and death for as long as I can remember, and this gives me a unique perspective. When someone is diagnosed as terminal, they start thinking of all the occasions and special moments that they're going to miss when they pass on. Their life runs like a home movie in their mind, leaving them thinking, ‘This is it? This is how it ends? There has to be a way out of this nightmare!'

The terminally ill start thinking of all the things they must somehow consolidate and ‘cram' into whatever time they have left with the ones they love. I remember when my friend Domini was dying of cancer, she shared that she really revelled in being a mum. She said it was the best thing she'd done in her whole life, and to please remind her kids of that fact. She wanted her friends to know she regretted some things in her past that she'd change if she had the chance to, and that meant a lot to me. She shared this feeling with many of us at a party that we had in her honour a few months before she passed away. At that moment she was saying the things that she might not have said for twenty or thirty years, because time was precious and it was running out. I wish I could have given my friend some more time.

My own experience of losing loved ones to terminal illnesses, coupled with counselling thousands of grieving people, helps me to suggest soothing words to give to the dying that may provide them with some sort of peace, and—equally powerful—what
not
to say to the dying.

When a person is sick, often people don't know what to say to them, or what to do to lift their spirits. Friends and family will have a mixed response to the news of the illness. Some will want to ‘fix' the situation by looking up alternative treatment methods, and I do encourage taking that approach. It can't hurt, and sometimes it can lengthen a life. Others will immediately start planning the funeral. It seems to occupy their mind; it keeps them busy and they feel useful. We have a propensity to switch to autopilot when our mind can't deal with something so painful.

I think it's important for all of us to put ourselves in the shoes of the dying in order to begin to understand where their head is, and what we can do to ease some of their fear. Can you imagine being told you'll never see another Christmas, birthday or wedding anniversary, or that you won't see your children grow up or your grandchildren be born? It is mind-blowing. When you learn that you will be taken from the life you've grown to love and expect, from the people you cherish, an immediate overwhelming fright grips you because you think, ‘What will happen to them when I'm not here? Will they be okay?'

I find the movie
The Family Stone
a great tool in learning to empathise with a person who finds themselves faced with a terminal illness. Diane Keaton's character has breast cancer. Put yourself in her shoes. If you practise stepping into the shoes of the dying, this can help you decide if you could shoulder being there for someone you love, so you're prepared when the day might come. The movie also makes you appreciate your family even more than you can imagine as you watch Keaton's character focus on her family's needs.

If you were dying, you would most likely question God, and whether there is an afterlife waiting for you. You might wonder if your family and friends who preceded you in death will greet you with open arms, and part of you might be comforted by the thought of seeing them again. Shedding the body that's become the enemy seems like a kind of victory at some point, knowing that your spirit will live on. So many conf licting thoughts and emotions race through you, including the feeling that you just want to climb out of your body to be rid of the heavy burden that you simply can't shake.

Now that you've put yourself in their shoes, let's talk about what
not
to say to someone who's terminal. One of the big no-no's is ‘Be strong, you have to be strong.' No dying person wants the additional burden of having to worry about their pain ‘offending' others. If they need to fall apart, so be it! If they want to take a final life trip, support them. It's about them, not us, not what we need, not now. If there is ever a life stage when we can't handle others running an agenda, it's when we're dying. The terminally ill want everything to slow down so they can stretch out every single minute they have left, and they certainly don't need to lose even one of those minutes to petty nonsense. Each and every minute is so precious and fragile that it should be spent making a delicious memory and feeling each and every facet of life.

When a baby is born we celebrate them at this delicate stage of life. We cater to their every need because we love them. The same thing needs to happen when someone we love is dying; we have to love them enough to put them ahead of our agenda as they enter their final stage of life and they transit into the afterlife. You want to make the transition as smooth and calm as possible for them with the assurance that you will stay connected, no matter what.

Don't start sentences with ‘You should . . .' Who are we to instruct them? Unless you've been in their shoes and died before, only then would you know, and I'm certain that's not the case. Telling them that everything will ‘go back to normal' after they die isn't very comforting. They want to know you'll be all right, but at the same time they want to know that they'll remain a part of you always, so convey that message thoughtfully.

They need to know they'll be remembered fondly and that you'll share their life with all of the younger generations, so they stay connected. Let them know your whole family will ‘expect a visit' from them regularly, so that everyone gets a turn to see how full of life they still are and also get a rather large hug.

Definitely don't ask the dying for a loan, because money for car repairs or your rent is the last thing they need to worry about at such a delicate time. You'd be surprised at how many people do this without thinking about how insensitive it is.

Hopefully, a will has already been established and distributed in the family so there are no divisions over material items. I myself experienced such a conf lict in my family after my dad passed. It's no fun and it's unnecessary.

Try not to bring your everyday problems to the sick; they need to conserve their energy to fight their illness. We need to lend our positive energy to the sick and be there when they need us—period.

I find it very helpful to suggest recording messages for people whom the dying love, to be watched on special days in the future. This allows the dying to be a part of days still to come. Letters are also great for birthdays for grandchildren or younger generations so they can stay connected and receive advice on how to get the most from life from the people who love them and have the answers to their life questions. Letters for wedding days to come are also invaluable, and such a meaningful surprise on emotional days. Letters can really be written for any occasion.

Music is incredibly healing, too, and should be a part of a terminally ill person's daily life because it evokes good memories and lifts their spirits.

When a person is dying, they ref lect on every facet of their life, and often they will reach out to make amends. I always tell people to live life without regrets; and as hard as forgiveness can be, it is freeing. Those who choose to carry venom and judge others will be their own worst enemy, and ultimately their own undoing. It's okay to be a strong person, but try not to wish others ill. It's not healthy for anyone, and the older you get the more hardened you will become. So, if there are some relationships in your life that left you bruised, do yourself a big favour and leave the hurt in the past. Accept family members for who they are. It doesn't mean you have to like them. Instead of hoping they'll see it your way, try to come to terms with simply having different points of view. Sometimes family members are like oil and water, and that's just life. It's easy to become stuck in our own emotional turmoil. Sometimes you just have to cut the strings that connect pain to you and choose to rise above it.

IMMERSED IN DEATH

I travel the world doing media appearances, book signings and VIP events. I work with smaller groups at my events so people are more likely to get a reading, and it's a little bit more intimate so I can connect to my audience and they can connect with me. In our lifetime we learn various lessons from a garden of unique people, and we can strive to leave the world in a better place than we found it.

I've read thousands of people and I've learned something from each individual I come across. I try to write about a few of the souls who touch me so that my readers can place themselves in my position, and maybe even relate to me, realising both how fortunate I am to possess my abilities and how, if I forget to come up for air in my own life, the exposure to illness and death can take a great toll on me. If you deal with heavy topics in life, remember how necessary it is to have a place to retreat to when you're stressed, so that you can revitalise yourself. You're basically doing this to rid yourself of the trauma that you carry around from your everyday life, so that you can actually do some living when it counts. In my professional as well as in my personal life, I've observed some heart-wrenching struggles where I've seen someone entirely change as a person as they attempt to move past the pain they've walked into.

People who lose
many
loved ones in their life in a traumatic way are often left wondering why they're still here. Why they ‘dodged the bullet' and continue to survive when the ones they love weren't so fortunate. They often have a traumatised look in their eyes, and you can feel the pain radiating from their skin. You'll see their guard go up high and thick. Grieving individuals often hold their breath and take very shallow breaths. They seem to almost be ‘white knuckling' it through life, trying to avoid vulnerability, and they seem to become quite numb. I've found this can also apply to parents who feel they were unable to save their child. Parents and their children are indivisible, so the parents become the walking wounded due to the trauma of losing their baby. The child died, therefore the parents become dead inside.

The other group of people that I notice carry quite large burdens are those who endure death regularly through their profession, such as doctors, nurses, police officers, hospice volunteers, firefighters, soldiers, morticians or even mediums. If I've left anyone out, I'm not excluding or minimising any profession; I'm just short of paper. Many members of these kinds of professions learn to put the deceased first and fall apart later, or begin looking at the deaths as an element of the job, their life now, or both.

Obviously, at my events I'm immersed in some of the most traumatic deaths, which is why the living often seek me out. I sometimes have trouble sleeping because I replay the details of a savage crime scene or relive the last moments of someone's life over and over in my head, wondering if deaths could have been prevented.

I've seen occasions where the police respond to a call and arrive at the scene of the crime in time to see the f lash of a firing gun taking the life of the innocent. A 30-second difference determined whether or not that victim would die that day.

I've seen devastating cases where the lady of the house answers the door with an ashen-coloured face and tells her neighbour she's not feeling well that day. An hour later the family of four is found murdered. What if the neighbour had picked up on the fear in the face of the woman and called the police? Would the family be alive? I'm certainly not blaming the neighbour, of course; no doubt she would have helped if she could have. It's just one of those ‘what if ' scenarios.