I Won’t Grow Up! A Deathbed Experience

I’d had a dry mouth as the session started. I almost stopped several times; I really wanted to get up and get a drink. That’s strange. Usually I don’t care about thirst at all during a session. I’m too focused, and in trance to care about a drink.

I didn’t want to disturb the practitioner by asking to get water, but I did anyway, knowing that I encourage my own clients to speak up if they have a request.

And as I asked…

I realized, oh? This dry mouth is an other life experience.

I was my dad.

I visited my dad on his deathbed in the hospital.

For context- This was all BEFORE I went to my “first scene”.

So at the end of the session when the facilitator asked what else wanted to come through, my soul explained: I needed to go into THAT experience more fully…

And there I was…

I was him, for a few moments.
I could feel his feelings.
Hear his thoughts.
My mouth was so dry.

“What do you want to tell him?” the facilitator asked.

So I quickly switched gears and entered the scene as “Julia” .

I’d sensed HIS fear of the unknown, and his guilt of feeling like a bad person. I assured him- for ME? He fulfilled his contract perfectly. He was the perfect dad. And didn’t need to play any “villainous” roles again, if he didn’t want to. The part of him that was already in the light understood that, but this aspect? He still needed to be TOLD that by ME, specifically. He can be anything he wants to be. He can go FULLY into the light. I’m there, he’s there. Even his dog is there. It was nice to be there for him.

Also: I don’t have to play any role I don’t want to play.
I don’t have to FEAR being like him.
I’m like me.

I don’t have to fear making these choices, or fear failure. I’m here to be human, to appreciate my form, and to have a human experience.

The worst case scenario isn’t that bad.

My soul says, “the evidence that she’s worthy and valuable is piling up. She’s having a more and more difficult time ignoring that evidence. She has the free will to do so, and she is stubborn in exercising that free will. Yet we will persist in proving this truth to her. She is worthy. She is valuable. Being an adult only adds to this unquantifiable value. It does not diminish it.”

Dad was an atheist. He didn’t believe in God, but he was curious about the afterlife. He’d told me, “I think we create our own reality”. He called it his, “Theory of Reality”– we aren’t separate from our experiences, he surmised. He insisted on telling me, if there is an afterlife- He would reach out and contact me.

And he did.

My Dad contacted me in a dream not too long after his death. In the dream I’m at a hotel front desk when the phone rings. The hotel employee working the desk hands me the phone; it’s for me. It’s Dad. He sounds a bit frantic. Excited. Rushed. He blurts out, “I’m not dead, Julia. I need you to know that. I’m not dead. The doctors are wrong“. He sounded confused and excited.

I guess we got our answers about the afterlife! The Soul doesn’t die…

Pictured: My Dad at his Baptism. Despite being atheistic, he participated in a baptism and assured me: He experienced a spiritual reaction during this ceremony.