February 14, 1974~~February 17, 2010
Our beautiful daughter, Beaunet, 36, passed from this earth just last month. She was diligent in eating a vegetarian style, only organic foods that were good for her. She spent time every day either doing Pilates exercises or walking. She loved life and acted like it. She did the things one is supposed to do to live a good, healthy life.
But around 10:30, on the morning of February 17, I got a call from the University Hospital in Tampa. “I’m calling for Melissa or Charles Leath.”
”We’re calling about a patient who came into emergency this morning in distress…” [what does that mean? ...distress?] I was puzzled.
“She was brought in by the parametics.”
“What’s going on?”
Needless to say, this was not the most diplomatic way of delivering the news that your child has died, unexpectedly. Being 1000 miles away didn’t make it any better.
“NO! That’s not right. You’re wrong. That can’t be…” I was hysterical. Literally, hysterical. “She isn’t sick, she just was at a routine doctor’s appointment last week…there’s nothing wrong with her…I just talked to her last night!”
The nurse confirmed next of kin information she had in her hands. She confirmed Beaunet’s birthday (just three days earlier). It was her information. But it couldn’t be.
The story continues to unfold: Beaunet called 911 when she had problems breathing. It was around 7:00am when they got her to the hospital. She had unlocked the apartment door for them. But after they got her to the emergency room, she passed away. They worked on her for another hour. But could not revive her.
We didn’t know anything ahead of time. She didn’t call us when she felt bad. She did what she was supposed to do. She called 911. When they have you on the phone, they try to keep you on the phone to relay information to the paramedics as they are preparing on their trip to the emergency.
So she couldn’t call us. I feel badly that she didn’t have us there with her. Even if she called us, 1000 miles really keeps you apart from each other. There was no way we could do anything.
But, still…I didn’t know anything. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t come to visit me in spirit. After all, I am a medium. I didn’t understand that at the time.
I was able to call my husband, Charles. He was out doing errands. “I need you to come home right now,” I said between sobs. “Just come home right now.” I had enough sense to know not to tell him on the phone.
As he came up the walk, I opened the door and let it out. “Beaunet’s dead!”
The next few hours are a blur. We walked around in circles, crying, sobbing, calling Beaunet’s name…not knowing what to do. I had to go to her. We had to go. We had to call people. We had to…?
As I cried out, “Beaunet…” I heard my dad, who passed away in 1980 say to me, “She’s here, I’ve got her.”
It was a double edged sword. Hearing my dad confirm it, made it too real. I felt worse. Horrified. But it also made me realize she was indeed alright in the spirit. And that loved ones were taking care of her. It was all so fast, so soon, so final. It hurt like a raw sore in the core of my stomach.
No one ever told me about the physical pain. Emotional pain is one thing. But it physically hurt. Just like she had been ripped from my stomach.
As Charles and I were holding each other, I cried out again…”Beaunet, no, I don’t want you to go.”
Immediately I heard her say, “But now I can sing with Michael Jackson!” Beaunet, like so many others her age, was a fan of Michael Jackson all her life. She dreamed of him, bought everything he ever recorded. But she was also pursuing a singing career. And to sing with Jackson would be the best thing ever!
These two statements from the spirit world, were evidence that she was in good company. She was totally aware and fully in spirit. They were good signs. If I had not been a medium, knowing about life after death, I might have not heard this information. It was comforting then as it is now.
But still…I wondered why I had not seen her after the death of the body. It puzzled me.
We flew down to Tampa immediately, arriving late in the evening. The next day were interviews with local officials, medical examiners (death was from a blood clot in the lungs), funeral director. Finally, on the second day, we were allowed to see her body.
This is something I insisted on. Maybe there was a huge mistake. Maybe she was still alive. Maybe this was really someone else. But most of all, if it was no mistake, I had to see my baby one last time.
As we walked into the parlor of the funeral home, there she was, on the table, covered with a lovely patchwork quilt. It was definitely Beaunet. No mistaking. Her color was still good. Her hair soft and sweet (she had just washed it the night before).
Her eyes and mouth were closed, of course. We saw such a relaxed and serene look on her face. We hugged her, we talked to her, we kissed her. All of a sudden, Charles said, “Look at her lips.”
Her lower lip had separated and her teeth were showing…It looked like a smile…like she had managed to physically move her mouth to show us she was fine. This is called physical phenomena. Then I looked up at a picture above her head. It was a huge field of iris flowers. I cried.
My main spirit guide is Iris. She always presents physical evidence for me when I need confirmation. Yes, my baby was fine. She was alright. I could finally let go.
And at that moment, I felt like Beaunet let go too. She let go of the body. She had been hovering around the body until we could get there. All could process now.
That is why I could not see her around me at the time of her death. She was attached to the body just enough, waiting for us to come to her. I could hear her thoughts and messages, but she was not ready to appear.
How wonderful Spirit is to help us through our grief, by bringing such confirming and consoling evidence. It would be so impossible to deal with if there were no way to understand the transition. But in Creator’s loving way, we have resolve.
The shock and pain is still there. If I did not know the things I do about life and passings, I think it would be unbearable. But now, we are able to work through our grief of losing the physical connection of our daughter. And look forward to the growing connection with her spirit in our lives.
“…For nothing loved is ever lost, and she was loved so much…”