While this is my story, it’s also ours. We’ve been together since we were kids. Steve’s a main character in my story. If it wasn’t for him, I may not have reconnected to my truth so early in my life. His love became the foundation of my awakening. He grounds me into this reality so that my dreams might manifest.

When our daughter was only five, she described us as a helium balloon.

“You’re the balloon, Mommy.”

“Then what’s Daddy, Kyra?”

“He’s the string!” She rolled her eyes. “Without him, you would fly off to outer space.”

After tucking her in with a kiss and a story, I related our conversation to her father.

He laughed. “She’s right. I am the string to your balloon. You need me to keep you on earth. And I need you to get me off the ground.”

It’s sometimes eerie how well we fit together.

When my youngest sister was pregnant with her last child, one of my twin sisters and I gave her baby shower. It was a couple’s shower so Steve came along. Exhausted from working a night shift and getting so little sleep before the afternoon shower, he had a headache and went inside to lie down.

I had a great game for the dozen couples to play. It involved diapering a “baby” the old-fashioned way with cloth diapers and pins. The trick was that each couple had to do it together using only one hand. Needless to say, there was a lot of laughter, poorly diapered dolls, and when my pregnant sister and her husband took their turn, a lot of blood and cursing. No one could do it under two minutes.
My other sister had an idea. “Let’s see you and Steve do it.” I protested. The game was for the guests. “Please,” she begged. “I’ll get Steve!” And she hurried into the house.

We had never played this silly shower game before but Steve could not resist my sister’s pleas. So we linked arms. He was the right hand and I was the left. And silently in perfect unison as if we were one body, we diapered the “baby”. My sister held it up, “I knew it! Less than 30 seconds and perfectly diapered. And look, no blood!”

It was so natural to be in perfect harmony with my beloved even for a silly shower game. Like I said, my story is his too

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon


After nine years of working as an employee first at an urgent care then with an ob-gyn, I had a dream…to start my own holistic health care practice.

So I left a private practice seeing 27 or more patients a day as an employee to slow down and spend quality time with my own patients; time that they gratefully compensated me for and then submitted their completed bill of services to their own insurance. Finally I was independent of the insurance industry. Soon a trend began as patients invested in their care became increasingly more responsible for their health.

My dearest patients supported my entrepreneurial nature by following me into my new integrative medical practice—Full Circle Family Health. One day I was evaluating a woman with postmenopausal bleeding and had an uneasy feeling. A few years earlier my intuition led me to discover a rare growth on her liver. She trusted my feelings and did not hesitate to agree to an ultrasound. That’s when we discovered the tumor.

I had diagnosed patients with cancer before. I had even lost a few to the disease. But this beloved patient was different. Her cancer became our dance floor. I learned to partner with Barbara to the rhythm of her dis-ease, to the changing beat of her desire, to the symphony of her life’s purpose. I held nothing back, dancing with her through choices that I may not have chosen, orchestrating a care plan that fit her needs—physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I researched every option, conventional and alternative. She fought the good fight, but in the end…she showed me how to slow dance.

On the morning of her death, I felt Barbara as a bubble of delight floating through me. Not an hour later, her daughter called to tell me she had just passed. For the first time in 25 years of healing, I experienced the grace of death.

Like most health care professionals, I had viewed death of a patient as a failure and could not fully receive the gift of their passing. But hers, I embraced. I surrendered to loving her as a person, to getting close to her family, to being a part of her circle—truly Full Circle Family Health.

At the funeral, others commended me for coming. How could I not? I came to honor her, to support her family and to let her go. Like many of her loved ones, I shared my thoughts. Mostly I thanked her delightful spirit, free now from pain playing with her little grandson.
This is the way it used to be. Before insurance carriers and malpractice, we used to get involved with our patients. We knew their families, we birthed them, we helped them get through tough times in their lives, and we buried them. We understood the circle of life. They understood too. We respected one another; we were part of a community.

As I dance my dreams into reality, they expand to encompass all I love. Transforming my health care practice into one that supports my relationships, my health and my soul purpose—my LoveDance®—has allowed me to model a healthy balanced life which helps my patients achieve their goals. And those who are ripe for healing arrive from across the globe. They come because I dance their dance.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon


Sultry music warms the desert air. And I’ve been dancing—Brazilian Samba—all night. Once, twice with my beloved, but dancing is not his thing. It’s mine. I cannot keep still when the drum calls. I dance with whoever asks. Men, women, children…or just with the drummer.

All my sisters and my mother came with me to this Cinco de Mayo celebration in the rosy desert glow of Palm Springs. Our dear friends invited us to partake of their Mexican feast, margaritas and music. Most of the celebrants are gay…and I am in heaven with no shortage of dance partners. Although my mother ventured onto the dance floor, my sisters kept to themselves, later wondering why they danced so little. At the intermission, the band leader told me why.

He had put on some recorded music and the other dancers left. Still captivated by the energy, I stayed. He asked me to dance. When I slipped into his arms, he made a comment, “Your body is perfect for dancing.”

And I said, “My husband is right over there.”

He laughed. “Forgive me. I have been watching you dance all night. Partnering with dancers of all abilities. And each one you received and danced with beautifully. Your body is perfect for dancing.”

Perhaps he’s right. I have yet to encounter a person I cannot dance with. I just follow their lead. They may be awkward or shy or overly trained in a particular style of dance that may not match the music. It doesn’t matter. Somehow their inner dancer comes out to dance with me.

Years ago, I attended a Science and Consciousness conference in New Mexico. The conference began with Dances of Universal Peace. A large group of us circled around a makeshift band of musicians with drums, flutes and stringed instruments. I was enchanted. The music was so enticing. I danced joyously with each and every one in the circle. And many people approached me afterwards complimenting me on my dancing. “Are you a professional dancer?” I just laughed. Far from it.

I never thought of myself as a dancer. In fact, my husband used to tease that I danced to the beat of a different drummer. But I didn’t care, enjoying the music, the camaraderie, the energy. I called my guru friend. I thought Anika would love the dances, especially since she had been taking ballroom dancing and had started dancing competitively. She huffed at the idea that anyone would think I was a professional dancer. “You’ve had no training!”

Hmm. I didn’t know what to say. But since then I have had many people express enchantment at my dancing. Then I wrote LoveDance® and finally understood.

Dancing is my way of connecting with the energy. A means of celebration, of expressing my feelings, of being present. And life is a dance of love. Steve suggested that LoveDance® is my expression of Self. Love is at the center of the triad of Relationships, Soul Purpose, and Health. I include Health because as a Holistic Nurse Practitioner, Health of Body, Mind, and Soul is paramount in the Process of Enlightenment. It is not enough for me to talk…but to walk my talk…or rather…to dance my truth!

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Available on Amazon


After meeting Annette, I started to barter services with other spiritual gurus. To me they were gurus. They had a name for their gifts, unabashedly used the energy and charged a great deal for their services. It’s true that I used my intuition to diagnose and treat my patients. They trusted me or rather my intuition. And I had diagnostic tests to “prove my knowing”. Annette said I was still in the closet.

“How do you think you diagnose them so easily?”

When I started my private practice, I wasn’t ready to admit that I used the energies to diagnose my patients. But it was true that none of my colleagues seemed to be able to “hear” the carotid bruits that only Dopplers detected. Nor could they “smell” the cancer in our patients later confirmed by pathology. Even the gynecologist I worked with could not “feel” the cysts that he could only find with a laparoscope. One physician would perform surgery based on my “findings”. He did not wish for the others to know, but when I described tumors to a tenth of a centimeter that he found in the operating room, he too was a believer. Yet I had not come out to them.

So I saw one of Annette’s colleagues. She too was hormonally challenged, one of the most physically frail people I had ever met. More ether than substance. I was curious as to her “abilities”, yet certainly did not wish to trade my strength and vitality for her ethereal experiences. It’s as if she could not physically hold all the energy she was bringing in to this dimension. She’s not the only one, just my first encounter.

So after I got her hormonally balanced, I went to her for a session. I did not know what to expect. Annette’s sessions reminded me of Healing Touch—an energy therapy started by holistic nurses to certify health care professionals. Anika’s sessions were more like channelling. And she said, that never before had so much information came in. She was not the only energy healer/channel that related amazing transmissions during our time together. I thought it was them. My mother said it was me.

As soon as I sat in front of Anika, I felt a winged presence behind me. Anika described it as a seraph. I felt embraced, held, protected. I “heard” the being’s name—Constantina—and it “said” she had been with me since the beginning. Although Anika related some of this through her channelling, my own imagery and sensory experience filled in the gaps, making this very real for me. “Constantina” assured me that I was not to worry about Steve. I was to step forth on the path before me and trust that he would follow.

What a great relief to have my greatest fear addressed. I was afraid that if I forged ahead on my spiritual journey that I would leave my beloved behind. My fear was mirrored in my husband’s distrust of Anika and the other spiritual gurus to follow. He tolerated Annette but she respected him. The others did not. Some even advised that if I was to achieve enlightenment in this lifetime that I had to leave him. I left them instead.

One thing I know is Love. My husband loves me with all his heart and I love him. If this was the right path, then we would take it together. Well, more like in tandem. Rather me going first and him following. He told me once that he was a gatekeeper. He felt his job was to be sure that everyone he loved got through. He knew I was a leader. He encouraged me to grow, to explore, to learn, to make change. He said if I kept looking back for him, we would never get anywhere.

Now at the time, I felt held back by my love. But the more I got to know the gurus, the more I realized that their “gifts” were not worth all they gave up. Most of these women lived alone. They did not have significant others in their lives—no husbands, no lovers, no close friends, no children. They had left everything they knew to follow their path.

I felt so strongly that everything I knew and loved were part of me. I was willing to go first, to lead the way, but I vowed not to leave them behind. Constantina’s message was very reassuring. Since then I have come to see that leading is flying in triangular formation like a flock of geese. One goose is up front with a clear view of where the flock is going. All the rest of the geese are just flying nose to tail, trusting that the leaders know the way. I am not alone. The other outer geese are there. Sometimes that goose is my husband. Flying up from the rear to relieve me.

Excerpt from My LoveDance. Get your copy Now!

Disentangle Your Cords of Attachment

We tend to become entangled with those we love, those we hate, those we have any strong emotion. The old paradigm is to cut the cords of attachment, but we can never cut ourselves off from anything in creation. The time is ripe to learn a new paradigm. Learning to disentangle from others can be a challenge and a blessing.

“As we loosen our bindings to this reality, the hayye (energy) of potential can shift. When we surrender those we love to the One, we free them to experience life without the limitations of our relationship.”
From page 453 of LoveDance: Awakening the Divine Daughter

Here’s an article I wrote on how to Disentangle Your Cords of Attachment

May you be Free to Receive Abundant Joy,



I’ve been dancing with death. I believe that death begats birth…and I appreciate the tender new soul growth emerging from the soil of loss. Truly I understand the circle of life…yet my heart grieves still… 

Before we could bury Gran, I had to attend another funeral. 

Just one day after Gran passed; I chose to join my husband’s family at the beach. One of Gran’s favorite places. But they gathered without me…instead I drove 95 miles from the foggy coast to the high desert to see a patient. 

I don’t usually make house calls. Most of my patients live 50 or miles from me. Some are out of the country. So making house calls is not really practical. But I did this time. 

Anita was one of my favorites…not that I should have favorite patients…but we had been working together for almost four years…really tough healing work, the kind that shifts the soul…hers and mine. Anita had cancer. 

She came to me for a spiritual healing. Her cancer had advanced and her family thought this was it. I asked her. “Do you want to live or are you ready to die? Either way I’ll help you.” She chose life. So I did my best to help her live. 

Nearly four years of research, trying the best in alternative care—that was her desire—and integrating with some conventional therapies…the best of both worlds. It was a rollercoaster ride—thrilling and scary. I am not a cancer specialist. I’m a hormone specialist. But I’m really good at medical detective work. And I favor the underdog. I hate when patients are not given choices. So I try to investigate the root cause of their dis-ease and usually find something we can work on. Sometimes the root is physical. Sometimes it’s psychological. Always I dig up spiritual roots. 

So in our very first consultation, I got to the heart of the matter. Clearly there was not time to waste with stage IV head and neck cancer.  The conventional physicians she had consulted had not given her much hope…so she explored alternative treatments on her own. It’s sad that we don’t integrate medicine as much as we should. We are all on the wheel of health care together…why can’t we partner? 

Well, at least my patients are willing to partner with me. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s their dance. They pick the music, I follow their lead. And I love to dance! And I haven’t met anyone I can’t partner with on the dance floor. The secret is being open to receive them. Same with patients…if I am open to receive them…our dance is harmonious. 

So I danced with Anita. Followed her lead through the slow laborious melodies and the rapid tumultuous tunes. It was always her dance, not mine. Not that I didn’t have to remind myself on more than one occasion. Like last year, just before her daughter’s wedding. We were nearly there…having accomplished the last of her goals. She wanted to attend her daughter’s wedding as healthy and happy as possible. And all looked well…except I had a niggling worry. One that wouldn’t stop pestering me. Her daughter’s wedding was what she was living for…there was nothing beyond seeing her daughter all grown up, graduated from college and happily married. 

So I brought Anita home…Yes, I work at home…in an office on my property, surrounded by healing herb gardens and great energy…but never had I invited a patient to stay with me, until Anita. It was a deep healing journey for both of us. I helped her discover where her “death wish” originated. We all unconsciously and sometimes consciously direct our bodies towards dis-ease. Sometimes towards death. It begins as a belief that manifests in our body as dis-ease. Anita had hers…and I felt that my job was to enlighten her…then help her reverse the “death wish” and replace it with a “life wish”. That meant finding her purpose. 

She named a possible purpose…yet before she left I asked what she learned…and her “purpose” had not stuck… She said, “Being with you, watching you take care of yourself while you take care of me, makes me realize that I’m not taking care of myself as well as I could be.” 

Anita taught me a crucial lesson. BEING is more important than DOING. Walking my Talk…Being my Truth. Taking excellent care of myself physically, emotionally, spiritually left the deepest impression on Anita.  When we parted, she thanked me. The following month, she attended her only daughter’s wedding—as whole as possible in the face of her disease—pain-free, able to dance all night, as she wished. 

And afterwards her health diminished. Plagued by complications of metastatic cancer, she rallied for months. She tried a promising alternative therapy, yet the cancer progressed. I hesitated to order that last MRI. I knew she didn’t want to know. And we discovered the worst—the cancer had spread to her brain. 

It was time to let her go…to follow yet another path…this time to a major medical center. A path she had resisted…yet at the end she had to try one more possibility. I knew the specialists would want to try more than she believed in…so I went to the hospital to see her before surgery…to be sure she understood that it was palliative, not curative. She understood but had to do it for her family…to show she tried…everything…even though she was tired…even though she was scared. That was the last time I saw her walking and talking…clear headed…determined…yet knowing there was more. She wasn’t quite ready to go then, but she had accepted her death and felt the extra time would help her daughter let her go. And the last ditch effort to save her would help her husband feel they had exhausted all possibilities. She told me then that she did not want to die in the hospital…reminded me of her wishes…and thanked me for my care. 

Over the last three months, she was enmeshed in conventional cancer treatment. The specialists kept telling her everything looked good…but our phone consults, the reports from the visiting nurse, the lab reports told another story. I knew she was dying but her family did not. So I went to her home to help them let her go. 

All the way there I reminded myself why I had become a Family Nurse Practitioner. This was the circle of life. I birth them and death them…it’s a dance of midwifery into the body and out of the body. Yet still it’s hard to let go. 

When I arrived, Anita’s husband let out a great sigh of relief. I could feel the heavy burden he had carried for so long. I gave him a hug and greeted her daughter and son-in-law. They too were delighted to see me…and escorted me to Anita’s room. 

Anita was a lilac flame…a bright and beautiful energy…very loving, a bit tender, yet strong willed. But that night her brilliance had faded. The energy of the dying fades back to white. Hers had concentrated in her heart chakra only a faintly purple glow. She didn’t have much time. 

Carefully I examined her, describing to her family what I saw. Anita was resting, not comfortably and was barely lucid.  Gently I explained the process of death. What would happen to her physically, mentally and energetically.  They wanted to know why the doctors had not told them the truth. Just two days before, she had radiation and they had to cancel that day’s appointment. Clearly she couldn’t go. Clearly… 

As hard as it is for me to let my patients go, it’s harder for doctors. Death is seen as a failure in medicine. Anita’s husband felt the same. “I don’t know what to do if I can’t fix it.” 

I reassured him that they had done everything possible, but now it was Anita’s time to leave her body. I suggested things that they could do for her to help her be more comfortable and how to be with her energetically. I told them their job now was to imprint themselves with her energy, so when she chooses to come to them, they would more easily receive her. Her husband wasn’t sure about what I was describing, but I could feel his desire to know. 

Her daughter got excited by the possibility and remarked how strange it was that Anita seemed to be seeing things. I perceived the energy of Anita’s mother, dead now some 20 years, in the room as soon as I entered.  I smiled, “Of course, that’s your grandmother! And we’re tripping over a big dog that won’t leave your mother’s side.” Her daughter cried, “That must be Savannah! She died just before Mom came to you.” 

At that moment, Anita opened her eyes and nodded vigorously. Weakly, she waved me to her. I leaned close and she barely grasped my arm and whispered, “Thank you.” 

Anita died just thirty hours later. We got hospice involved just in time so the family had support. In fact, I believe her husband was finally able to let her go when he signed the hospice paperwork the next morning. I called the team who worked with her…my collaborating physician, the dedicated pharmacist, the caring nurse. Tears flowed for all of us…as we supported one another…but for Anita…she was free of her pain, finally. 

Her memorial service was so well attended…she had asked her sisters-in-law to organize a family reunion that weekend. She never made it, but they were all there to say goodbye.

Her family spoke eloquently with pictures of Anita as a young woman floating in the background. But it was her husband’s choice of music that touched my soul… 

“The Dance” by Garth Brooks…”I’m glad that I didn’t know.. the way it all would end, the way it all would go. Our lives are better left to chance. I could of missed the pain, but I would had to miss the dance.” 

Thank you, Anita, for allowing me to dance with you.


Gran’s funeral was a great day of celebrating a life well lived.

And the Italian side of the family cooked for two days before Gran’s Day. Steve squeezed over 100 lemons for lemonade and picked tomatoes and basil for the bruchetta. Everything came from our garden…the garden Gran loved so. While my Mom cooked up sausage and peppers, marinated shrimp and zucchini, and Mediterranean wraps, Kyra and I baked Italian cookies. In the middle of baking, I had to leave her with a particularly difficult cookie—bruttis—meaning ugly little cookie—made of ground toasted hazelnuts and meringue, they were delicious! So handling her baking emergency calls while driving to pick up Jarys at the airport…well, it was a very busy day…yet filled with joy, because we were doing it all for Gran. 

As Jarys got settled, I whipped up lemon icing for the agnolettis. Kyra had just put magic bars into the oven (Gran’s favorite). “Jarys is home and here we are baking,” she said with a bit of powdered sugar dusting her cheek, “it feels like the holidays!” Yes, it did. And Gran was with us enjoying every moment. 

Not that I didn’t cry at her funeral. I tried to hold it together with everyone looking to me for direction—not unusual since I tend to lead—but I didn’t have time to cry while setting up for the reception so I just got frustrated. Mom blamed it on hormones (or lack thereof) but all the cookies got plated and the buffet laid out nicely. Flowers from my garden graced the tables…Gran loved to arrange bouquets and her presence was strong while I placed the roses and hydrangeas in vases. So strange how my roses all perished the day she died…then new buds blossomed in time for her funeral. 

Before entering the chapel, I had to stop and cry under a tree. I know Gran wasn’t in that fancy coffin but with me and each of us…in our hearts…yet the tradition of burying the dead…it’s hard. I do not remember my own grandparents’ funerals. I remember their deaths…too well…but their funerals were not celebrations. I didn’t want that for my children…nor would Gran…so we celebrated! 

The chapel was filled with people dressed in…bright Hawaiian prints. Gran loved color! No somber black to dishonor the brightness of Gran.

During the service, Steve honored Gran first. He spoke of her energy and how attached we all were to her energy of hope and home. How by being loved by her, we would always know her energy; she would be attracted to ours and always be with us. Since her death, Gran has come to Steve. He is amazed but not surprised at the clarity of their connection. I am so grateful that Gran has become his spirit partner through the veil…there is no separation. 

Gran was home for the entire family. She never knew a stranger. She loved freely and as Jarys said “accepted each of us for who we are.” The pastor could barely contain us as we stood to speak our love for Gran. 

Five generations attended her funeral…she left a legacy of hope. The reception afterwards turned out to be the party we wanted for Gran. Sharing our memories, loving each other, enjoying the food…of course we made way too much…so Steve’s family was sent home with leftovers. 

Yet I kept some biscotti…to dip in coffee, a cup for me and a half cup for Gran.

Let’s Not Say Goodbye

We said goodbye to my husband’s grandmother. No, Steve insisted, not goodbye, but so long. My grandfather used to say the same thing. Poppop hated goodbyes. I remember his sad long face as he helped my father take our suitcases to the car.  “Say So Long, not Goodbye,” he would tell me.

“Why, Pop?”

“Because, Poppy, Goodbye is forever but So Long means ‘sooner than you know it, we’ll be together again.’”

At nearly 91, Gran was on her death bed. Yesterday we surrounded her with love. And afterwards I wondered how much longer it would be…my medical mind said less than 24 hours, my intuition said at the 11th hour. And she died today at 11am.

Just before the eleventh hour, I asked her through the ethers, “Will I feel you go, Gran?” A lightness of being floated through my soul. And then I got a call she had passed.

Steve then called our son. And Jarys already knew. He wouldn’t say how, but we know he’s intuitive. I reminded Steve of our conversation last night.

My husband and I sat up late talking. He had heard me commenting to his mother how faded Gran’s energy had become. And my mother-in-law, also a nurse, agreed. “Yes, no more irritable reds. She’s resting peacefully pale now.”

Gran’s life force was a soft watery turquoise color. These last few months as her health had been failing, she had been fading. Steve asked about how energy fades at death. I believe we come into this life as pure white light and through the prism of this reality become refracted into our life color. Gran was turquoise. I’m violet. Steve’s green, very green. Jarys is blue—indigo blue. Kyra’s gold.

“Well, what about the other colors—the chakras—you’re always talking about?”

We are all made up of all the colors. The chakras in rainbow order from first to seventh are red to violet. All shades of the colors…like the first chakra—the root chakra is red, but can be any shade from rusty brown to bright cherry. Yet these colors are within the life color—the color of the aura—like a brilliant inclusion of carnelian in a rose quartz.

Being a police officer, Steve has seen lots of death. “When a person dies rapidly like in a car accident, it’s more like an explosion of energy out of their body.”

That’s sudden death, but when a person dies from a terminal illness or old age they slowly fade back to white. He was confused. “I’ve seen old people dying in nursing homes and I would describe their energy as “dimming”.” 

Yes! He perceives energy as light. I perceive energy as color (and light and sound and sometimes smell…but that’s another story.) It’s the same thing, we just describe it differently.

Then we discussed whether the energy that made up our life force had consciousness. He wasn’t sure comparing the body to a car and the energy to the key. “It’s potential that creates consciousness.”

I believe the energy that makes us alive…our life force…our soul…is conscious. It gathers the energetic imprint of our life experiences and then is attracted to those energies in this life and beyond. When we get a visitation from a dead loved one—I believe their energetic imprint triggers our memories of them and we experience them—their voice, their touch, their smell.

Years ago, I was driving to my sister’s house with Jarys and Kyra in the backseat. They were little—6 and 2. I didn’t want to go without Steve, but he had to work that Thanksgiving. And I was nervous. I had been having visions of crashing the car. Suddenly, Old Spice wafted through the car and I felt an oiled leathery hand caress my cheek. Poppop. And I heard, “It’s alright, Poppy.” I felt safe and protected by his love. And Jarys piped up from the back seat. “I smell Poppop!” Yes, he did, thank goodness, so did I.

My grandfather died in 1983 nearly twenty months before Jarys was born. So Jarys never knew him. Or did he? My mother and I were sure Poppop helped guide Jarys to us. Mom was holding Jarys when he was a baby and he reached for a picture in her hall and said “Poppop.” It was his first word. And the picture was of my dead grandfather. So, I do believe the veil is very thin between the worlds. And some of can perceive through the veil. Jarys can.

Kyra, on the other hand, had a close relationship with Nana. When she was just two to three years old, Nana sang to her at night and picked four leaf clovers outside her bedroom window during the day. My grandmother died in 1984. Kyra was born in 1988. Kyra described Nana just as she looked as a very young woman. Not my memory, not even the lullaby Kyra sang for me. My Mom recognized it as one Nana sang to her, but she had never sang it to us or to her grandchildren. And Nana loved to search the lawn for four leaf clovers. Kyra also can perceive through the veil that separates this reality and the next.

Lots of children can and many adults retain or remember their abilities. It’s a gift.

In fact, death is more like a spiritual birthday. While we cry tears of grief here, in the spirit world, Gran is being joyously welcomed. We mourn her physical presence instead of celebrating her freedom. She is free from a body that no longer served her. And we were blessed to have so much time with her. Nearly 91 years!

And the past two years, my family has gotten so very close to Gran. A series of synchronistic events brought her to us. Two autumns in a row, she spent precious time in our home. We’re so fortunate. Gran’s energy, her personality is one of delight. She was delighted to meet you, to share a meal with you, to be with you. She was delighted with the sunshine and the stars, with the birds and the butterflies. She was especially delighted with flowers. A professional flower arranger…she taught me how to make the perfect bouquet…for every season…we collected blossoms, and herbs, greenery and leaves to make delightful arrangements for every table in the house, even outside. I have vases filled with gifts from my garden throughout the house and all the outdoor gathering places. A little bit of Gran…always. 

I’ve known Gran since I was 17. She’s always treated me as one of the family…”our Debbie”, she would call me. And my Granny died a few years after my Nana died. Gran was my grandmother too; I shared her with Steve and his two brothers and nine cousins and lots of great and great-great grandchildren. Gran was my only grandmother left on earth.

Gran was unique—someone who accepted everyone for who they were.  She saw the good in everyone. Steve said Gran has a Pop soul—my Poppop was by far the most generous man I’ve ever known. As my brother-in-law said yesterday, no matter how hectic their lives were, Gran was always there for them in that little house in Van Nuys. You could call anytime or just show up and she would take you in and get you what you needed to feel whole. She was home for her family.

Years ago when I was going to grad school at UCLA, I stayed with Gran. She took care of two year old Jarys while I pursued my advanced degree. I depended on her to take care of us and she did it so well, so graciously—delighted to spend time with me and especially with her great-grandson. The memories are so clear for me, for she was home for me too.

I’m so grateful that we have created a home for us. Gran loved it here. She loved the garden, the flowers, the butterflies and hummingbirds. She loved being here and we loved having her. Two years ago, she came to stay when my mother-in-law had to be hospitalized. Gran was a bit unsteady using her cane, so Steve took her to the pharmacy to test drive a four-wheel walker. No, no let Medicare pay for it…the family protested. No, no, I was not going to risk her falling on our wood floors or Saltillo patios, so I took her back to the pharmacy and got the walker. Gran cried. And became really mobile for the first time in over a year.  She pushed that walker all around the house, into the outdoor room and out onto the patio overlooking the herb garden. We had to stop her from trying to negotiate the steps on her own. The walker had a little seat that she would stack with dishes to set the table or laundry to fold while she watched “Ellen.” She loved helping me cook. Her coordination was not such that she could safely work over a flame, but she was a great prep chef, chopping and measuring. When my mother-in-law got out of the hospital and came to our house to recuperate, she was surprised to see Gran using a knife. “She’s on Coumadin! What if she cuts herself?” I smiled. “No worries, I can stop her bleeding. She’ll be fine.” And she was and free for a long time.

When Gran lived with us, she needed help bathing. The first time, I drew her bath in the guest room. I thought the tub would be perfect…a sitting tub with a little seat inside a shower. I helped her in and helped her sit down, and she said, “Uh, Oh!” Well, not so perfect. The seat was too low and her knees were higher than her hips. “You’re not going to be able to get me out.”

I said, we’d deal with that after her bath, and planned to call Steve if necessary. She must have heard my thoughts. “I’ll be so embarrassed if Steve has to help.” Yikes!

Well, by the time we finished, it was clear that I would not be able to get her up from outside the tiny tub. So I stripped off my soaked nightgown and stepped into the tub with her. She laughed; her youngest daughter did that too. No wonder. I had given bed baths as a nurse but not tub baths and this time I had gotten as wet as washing three little kids.  I bent my knees with one between hers, gave her a big hug, stood up, and we stepped out of the tub. She didn’t let me go. “It feels so nice to hold you like this.” I squeezed her tight. It did feel nice. Then she laughed, “But there are only three breasts between us!” I nearly dropped her slippery self. She was right. She had a mastectomy some 15 years before!

A great sense of humor in a vast pool of sweet wisdom spiced with more love than most people ever know. That was Gran. That still is Gran. Because I know she will come to me and to my children and husband and the rest of the family whenever we need her, if we are open to receive her.

So long, Gran. Not goodbye, because we will meet again.

For more on the Spiritual Transformation we call Death: read my article Death and the White Light  

7 Remembering Mary Magdalen: Synchronicities Abound

We returned from celebrating our anniversary in Italy more in love than when we married twenty years before. My healing practice slowed down but thankfully Genesis Gold® sales made up the difference financially or we might not have survived my obsessive writing.

  November 1st, 2003 The insights are tremendous, releasing fears, misperceptions, experiencing the merge. Yeshua my constant companion, calling in the angels as I desire, the One coming in at peak times. I am truly blessed. I see the birth of the goddess in my patients, in Kyra, in Steve. The chapters keep coming clearly. I am well. Still I get thrust into the future book of political upheaval, but much yet needs to be recorded about our early lives, many lessons. Strange but our cat who has never been affectionate has taken to sitting on my lap while I type the story. Perhaps at 17 she needs to soak in the creative energies. 

Nov 4th, 2003  Another harmonic opening, on the last one in 1987, I conceived Kyra, my delight. Always I have found joy in creating this life, certainly there has been pain, but suffering is a choice. No longer do I choose to suffer. I choose to embrace the light of love. It is my relationship with Uriel (G-D’s light) that has propelled me through many lifetimes of sadness to pick the flowers of joy. As I awaken so does my family. When this book emerges unto the world, the souls who choose to partake of it will remember their highest destiny, overcoming the archetypal consciousness that binds the density of the world. This is a healing for all and yes, for you, my love Yeshua. You released your fears to reunite with the One, but left behind the sacrificial energy of martyrdom. The world has immortalized you but is veiled from your truth by fear. Perhaps through this book, the truth will be set free and you shall be free as well. You shall not leave me alone, for only in my ignorance, in my fear, have I perceived the illusion of separation. Bless your patience for waiting for me to come to this realization. I had a vision once of my guides and angels watching me with bated breath as I stumbled through my existence, but became tickled pink when I finally made progress. Just as in this life, the birth of my son was so traumatic—a result of our tumultuous existence that I had to examine our belief in sacrifice and suffering: Steve ready to martyr himself to save our son, both of us floundering to find love before emerging with an amazing opportunity for growth. Then conceiving our delightful daughter fully invested in our relationship and with her birth moving into a profound happiness, a new home, a new life. We have been together through eternity, both Jarys and Kyra fully cognizant of our connection, of a time before, of their profound purposes reminding me that when I was a child I too remembered the connection and through them reawakened to that which I forgot. Following two steps behind, Steve picks up the rear, holding the door until we are all safely through to the other side. Time to heal ourselves, our families, our communities and our world. No soul left behind.

3 Remembering Mary Magdalen: In Aramaic!

I have always been open to that which is unseen, unheard, unfelt by others. Although traditionally trained as a family nurse practitioner and in spite of  post graduate courses in molecular biology, quantum physics, neuro-immune-endocrinology, functional genetics and integrative medicine, I trust my intuition to guide me. It is my innate ability to perceive the root cause of dis-ease that patients seek.

Bridging the gap between the physical and the spiritual, the energy and the matter, I made profound insights into health and well being. My colleagues and patients enthusiastically encouraged me to write a healing book. In the summer of 2003, I struggled to compose a self-help manual, but nothing. So I prayed to be shown a way…and it came in a dream.

I believe in dreams. I dreamt of my children before conceiving them. I dreamt of the house we live in now. Even my nutritional formula, Genesis Gold®, came to me via dreams. The first one in Aramaic! Was I being prepared to receive a forgotten story?

 Sept 22nd, 2003 Just before dusk on the vernal equinox I was literally shown– experienced in body– how fear interferes with the connection. What went from a 24/7 experience in the emotion of gratitude, love, joy, delight, desire was absolutely cutoff by sheer panic while riding my high strung mare. Although hesitant I trusted Yeshua’s guidance but when Shane became spooked at something in the field, I perceived what felt like a divine set up.  Yeshua kept coming in and out, advising me to massage acupuncture points on her ears, to walk slowly, to breathe consciously, but terrified, Shane bolted. Unable to control her, I literally screamed for Yeshua, but it was as if we were cut off, barely making contact, like a radio station going in and out. Shane’s half ton of equine terror greatly magnified my fear. Even after I dismounted, she nearly trampled me. Shaking with anger, feeling abandoned, betrayed, the fear of separation from all I know was at the heart of my despair.Finally I began singing to calm us both—a lullaby I sang to the kids—“Do you know where you’re going? Do you know where you’ve been…” and through the song I answered the proverbial questions (why am I here, what is my purpose?)  I was shown that in my childhood I had constant connection. I remember speaking to G-D, but as I got older, I felt unsupported by the world and vanquished my emerging womanhood through anorexia. Somehow I believed that once I came into my feminine power, my mission would begin. How many years did I take the masculine stance in a world where only fierce competitors survived, imparting my intelligence, my strength, my courage, my leadership, but sacrificing the fullness of the sacred feminine. My fear cut off the divine connection then and now.Slowly settling, neck arched, head tucked into me as if I could protect her, Shane no longer trembled and snorted. Just before Yeshua finally slipped fully back into my consciousness I realized that the low vibration of fear had prevented me from connecting to his higher vibration. Only fear veils us from the Divine.