CHAPTER 8
COURAGE AND SPIRIT
Ron and I continued to see Sharon on a regular basis. We held firm with our decision not to replace the feeding tube the next time it needed to be replaced, but certainly were not ready to pull the tube. We informed the head nurse at the Rehabilitation Center of our decision. It was at this time that she informed us that the center did not feel comfortable having Sharon stay there if the feeding tube would not be replaced. She offered several choices, one of which was to place Sharon in a Hospice facility. At first astonished that they wouldn’t keep her there, my husband and I looked at each other and determined that when the time came, we would bring her home and care for her at home with the aid of Hospice. Not knowing how to arrange any of this, I called Hospice the following day and a very pleasant lady answered the phone. She answered all my questions and concerns, and I was told they would need about two days to set everything up at our home once we made the decision to bring Sharon home. I thanked her for the information and told her I would call her when we needed her assistance.
Months passed, and in October 2002, I decided to journey once again. I laid down, listened to the drumming tape, and spiritually went to the area where I journey. I was immediately transported to a higher level than where I usually go. I found myself on horseback galloping very fast and following a gentleman wearing a long robe. He had white hair and a long white beard, similar to what I imagined to be a wizard-like figure. I ended up in a small Old English town with cobblestone streets and little shops. I followed this gentleman down the street. As I passed the people dressed in the clothing of that age, they stopped and looked at me and parted as I came down the street. The message I received was “People need to hear what you have to say” and I was to “administer to the dying.” I was told to begin to write Sharon’s Journey Home. Immediately my thoughts were, what a big undertaking. Would I need to publish it? Immediately the thoughts came to me that I was not to think about any of that, and it would get to those who needed to read it and to just write it.
I came back from the journey with the understanding this was something I had to do and within two weeks started to write this story, and I set aside two to three hours each weekend to do so.
Weeks went by and Sharon still showed no signs of improvement; however, the feeding tube was stable. Our faith was definitely being tested, but we held to our beliefs, and I trusted in my visions. In November 2002, Ron and I decided to go to the Oregon coast for two days. We needed the time away and the peace that the ocean gave us. We visited a gallery while there and once again saw the painting Strikes at Sunrise that we had first seen in Taos, New Mexico the year before. This gallery was going out of business and the painting was discounted 50 percent. This was the second time this painting had appeared, and intuitively I felt we needed to purchase it. We got the painting, had it framed, and put it on the wall in our living room. Within two weeks we learned this same gallery was having an auction and everything in the gallery would be auctioned off. We decided to travel back to the coast and attend the auction. We got there early in the morning and began to look around at other paintings. Ron and I were both drawn to another painting by the same artist entitled, Reflections from the Shadow Spirit. It showed a Native American male looking out a window and seeing the spirit of a woman on horseback. We bought the painting and placed it over our bed.
Ron had been experiencing headaches for the previous week, and on December 16, he called me from his doctor’s office. He was advised to go the emergency room because his blood pressure was so high they needed to control it intravenously. With his complaint of headaches and his blood pressure so high I feared he might be going to have a stroke. I became quite concerned, left work and went to the emergency room. Five hours later he was admitted to the hospital to stabilize his blood pressure.
The next morning while at work, I received a call from the head nurse at the Rehabilitation Center. She told me, “Sharon’s feeding tube is leaking and we presently have it held together with tape, but I don’t know how long that will hold.” I told her we had made our choice to not replace the tube and would be back in touch with her once I called Hospice.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Sharon was dying and my husband was in the hospital suffering from severe high blood pressure. Although I didn’t want to cause him more stress in his condition, I felt I had no choice but to tell him the bad news. When I broke the news to him he started to cry. We hugged each other and both cried. This was going to be the hardest thing we would ever have to do, and I questioned our ability to see it through.
Hospice made all the arrangements to bring Sharon home. The Rehabilitation Center arranged the ambulance transportation. Sharon arrived home on December 20, 2002 the day after Ron was discharged from the hospital. We had the hospital bed placed in the living room, and when Sharon arrived, she looked more peaceful than I had ever seen her since the accident. The Hospice nurse along with the social worker and caregivers arrived shortly after the ambulance. I reflected back on the journey I had a few months before about Chris being dressed in a dark suit and the ambulance bringing someone into our home on a stretcher. I felt I was being given information to prepare me for what was ahead. Ron and I sat down at our kitchen table, and the Hospice nurse explained their program and assistance they could provide to us. The nurse then took out Sharon’s feeding tube. It came out very easily, since it was only being held in place by a piece of tape. Sharon was still very unresponsive, yet seemed very much at peace with her surroundings. We arranged for caregivers twenty-four hours a day. Sharon required skilled care, still had her tracheotomy, and required medication every two hours. I was determined to be a part of the care as much as I could and helped with bathing, and medication and tracheotomy care.
Several times throughout the day, I would come and go into the living room, and each time I would glance at the painting we had purchased, Strikes at Sunrise, and the thoughts would come, “Courage and strength.” Indeed I then knew why I had been so strongly encouraged to purchase it.
We were determined that we wanted Sharon to be surrounded by friends and family, so Chris returned home from Austin, Texas. Each evening for a week we had friends over who knew Sharon. On one of these occasions, several of our friends who practiced Reiki came over to our home. I asked if they would be willing to do Reiki for Sharon, and they all agreed. We spent one hour administering Reiki to Sharon. I was at the head of her bed with my hands over her head area, and the others put their hands over the rest of her body. I could feel the heat from my hands on Sharon’s face. I closed my eyes and saw a boxing ring with people seated around the ring. The boxers began to fight. All of a sudden they both fell backward, the people in the area were gone, and there were empty seats. The thought came to me, “Give up the fight.” After the session I asked the others if they had gotten any information, and the only thing they could relate was that Sharon wanted to be hugged and cuddled. I took their advice and spent each day for about an hour or more just lying in her hospital bed with her. One day as I lay there next to her with our arms intertwined, I had the overwhelming feeling that this was just like giving birth to her. I felt I was helping her cross over into a new life. There were definite stages to her passing. Sometimes her face would get very red, and she would sweat. At other times she would shake, but these stages were very brief. Her medications were adjusted and these reactions disappeared.
It was Christmas Day, Ron and I attended to Sharon since the caregivers had plans for Christmas. It was a special day for us. We each spent time with her individually lying down with her and talking to her. Even though there were no visible signs of recognition on her part, I felt she could hear us.
Ron and I got little sleep, and this process was taking its toll physically and especially emotionally. It was very hard to watch our daughter die, but I knew it was the right thing for us to do. She had given me the message she did not want to return, and I needed to abide by her wishes.
Chris did some shamanic journeying to see if he could reach Sharon. When he journeyed, he found Sharon sitting on a throne surrounded by African artifacts. Sharon moved the throne, and around the corner was a brilliant white light coming down from above. She asked Chris if he wanted to step into it. At first he was hesitant, but then later agreed. He said it was like an elevator, and the light brought him up, and in a distance he could see all these people waiting, and he thought they were waiting for Sharon. He mentioned to Sharon he had felt guilty about not journeying more to her. Sharon put her finger on his lips and said, “No need to be sorry. The practice of journeying was more for you.”
Ron’s cousin, Brenda, called us from Connecticut. She also had been able to reach Sharon through journeying and meditation. We had asked her to ask Sharon if there was anything she needed from us now. She did journey and called back the following evening. The information she gave me was that Sharon wanted me to walk her into the light. Not knowing how exactly I could accomplish this, I thanked her for the information and was determined to spend more time just lying down with her and letting her know it was okay for her to walk into the light.
On Friday, December 27, I awoke from a light sleep and felt there was a presence in the bedroom. Out of my peripheral vision I thought I saw Sharon dressed in a long white dress. I looked in that direction, and it was gone. Also that day I kept getting the information that we should sit down and watch the video we had of Sharon and the family together at the Oregon Coast and in Central Oregon. I was reluctant to do this, because I felt it would make me cry and one of the caregivers was there at the time and I didn’t want to cry in front of her. Later that same day, I still kept getting the message I needed to view the video, and so I decided to do so. While I viewed the video, I remembered how funny and carefree Sharon was. She had a wonderful personality, and as I viewed the videos, it made me laugh and feel better. I was very surprised at my reaction, but it left me with a sense of peace, and indeed what I saw on the video was Sharon and not the lifeless body in the same room with us that day.