Handling the Death of a Friend

Posted on Jul 22, 2009 in Healing, Spiritual living

I recently lost a very dear friend – she was the first person I really connected with when I moved to this area and she was a big part of the reason why I felt so welcome and at home here. Apart from my Nan, a good many years ago now, this was the first time I’d had to come to terms with the death of someone important in my life and it has been an illuminating experience.

Although I knew I believed in the immortality of the soul and the everlasting bond of love, I have realised just how deep and true that belief is. My friend Sally spent her last weeks in a hospice and although I could not physically go to her, I visited her in spirit and knew with certainty she could feel my presence. In the days following her death, I chatted non-stop to her in my mind and knew without doubt she was listening – it never occurred to me that I couldn’t speak to her or she couldn’t hear me any more. So vivid was this experience that on the morning of her funeral I remember saying to my partner that I had the weirdest feeling I was going to actually see Sally there, enjoying the celebration of her beautiful life, and we would discuss it all together.

As we drove back from the wonderful and moving service, I found myself questioning the quality of the support I had offered to Sally during the last weeks of her illness. Had I gone to see her enough? Contacted her enough? Helped her enough? How like my friend to give me an immediate answer, for on arriving home a small voice in my head asked me to go and look in the journal I kept by my bed to record my dreams. In the back of that journal I found a card that Sally had given me after she had recovered from the major operation resulting from her first diagnosis. In it she said:

“I do not think we need to be in constant physical contact as I feel a bond that sits out there somewhere – in time and space.”

She was and is so right. I have cried and still do for the physical “loss” of this lovely lady, and I will miss the coffee mornings, the afternoon teas, the laughter, the dancing and the performances we shared. But I know she has not really gone, her spirit lives on and is still a very real part of my life. For the early Christians, the butterfly was a symbol of the soul. The other evening, although no doors or windows were open, we found a butterfly flitting playfully around our lounge. “Hello, Sally,” I said.

For Sally, beloved friend and inspiration, and her amazing husband George.

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Semele Xerri

© Semele Xerri is a psychic intuitive healer, animal communicator, and Reiki Master Teacher. To find out more about her and her services, go to her Work with me page.

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