We are here to eat, sleep and to dream.  Then we cross back to our Creator.  We go home.  Some of us stall, struggle, fear for our souls, fear for our spirits.  Some deliver ourselves with relief and gratitude to be home again.  This is the dignity of death.

Sam, Lindsay's husband is a simple man with honest ideals.  He does not know how to express them and has not actually had a spiritual consideration in his life.  But much to Lindsay's dismay and heartbreak, he knows when it is time to go, it is time to go. 

If any one person could exemplify for us the truth in dignity of death and natural death, Sam is the one.  But Lindsay releases her will in life so beautifully, accepting the natual death process, and so, here we shall read the excerpt of her passing over, instead of his.

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Excerpt from....

                                                              Author Thayne Hudson

The Twilight

Sometimes a breath floats by me
An odor from Dreamland sent,
Which makes the ghost seem nigh me
Of a something that came and went,
Of a life lived somewhere, I know not

In what diviner sphere.....
A something too vague, could I name it,
For others to know:

As though I had lived it and dreamed it,
As though I had acted and schemed it
Long ago.....

       James Russell Lowell, 1819-1891

somewhere in chapter seven...…

................Lindsay is at the final point in her life—she has requested that Daniel and everyone leave her alone with Heather Laurel, the one who sings others over in their crossing to the afterlife……

They were insulated from the world now, she and her friend.  Heather Laurel murmured how warm they were with the squat Ben Franklin, near the fireplace at the end of their sofas, roaring then crackling within to heat the room.  A tempered door exposed flames to undulate across the walls and ceiling.  A fine place to die.

She must not waste time when they were alone.  “It used to be easier to leave, in other lifetimes.  Close our eyes and move beyond, almost effortlessly.  Now we struggle to stay, we cry at death, even our own.”

Heather Laurel waited a long time to speak.  “Maybe because we are not raised with death being the most natural, comforting and fulfilling progression in our lives.”

Lindsay waited as long.  “I think so,” she whispered.  “Though some do become ready.”
Heather Laurel looked at her but Lindsay could only gaze into her beautiful eyes for a moment before she looked back to the fire.  “You are so sad.  What can I do for you, dear one, what can I do to help you?”

“Help me go.  Sing me away.  I’m ready to go on, I don’t want to fight the pain any longer.  And I feel so wonderful tonight, stronger.  Tonight would be the easiest to leave.”

“Sing you away… how beautiful a gift.  No one could be given a more precious gift than I have been given.  To sing spirits to meet at the veil, then away to their Home.”

“Yes,” Lindsay said.  “I know I shouldn’t ask you, to give you so much-”

“You give me trust.  And the singing departure is not new, dear one.  Not at all.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“You’re certain you are ready to go on?”

“I already have been to the underworld of life.  I already left several times.  But no, I don’t want to leave anyone at all.  It’s just that I have to go now.  I see no choice for me.”

Heather Laurel sat very still for the longest time, watching the stove fire.  Lindsay watched her, so erect in the dark, blanketed from the waist down.  The pale pink of her sweater glowed warmly from the moon peering inside the windows, the fire from the glass stove front dancing amber around them.  Her dark blonde hair shone radiant, lifted from her face at the sides. 

Lindsay trusted her.  She thought that she could be afraid, asking to die.  But she wasn’t.  If the Maker of Life would accept her Home now, she would go willingly.  If she was not accepted yet, she would remain here.  Trust and allow. 

She had awakened from her lifelong dream, the illusion was gone.

Outside the long windows over the lake, she could see a strip of the milky haze over the stars and she wished on them, to dance among them again.  Something one could do in eternity, dancing in the stars, a pastime like gardening.  Soon please.

Heather Laurel began to tone softly, an enchanting tune she realized her friend heard within her soul, a song long forgotten by most.  “Sleep, beautiful,” she said after awhile.  “When you wake, love, we’ll talk more.”

Everything will be done when you wake,’ Lindsay heard whispered in her mind as she drifted with the song into precious, sacred dreamland.

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Introducing Lindsay—Heather Laurel—Gooee—Daniel and Sam…

Death—passing through the veil—crossing over.  An all natural process of dying that modern culture does not embrace as we often struggle at all costs to remain in this single plane, this dimension.  A unique novels which includes a death doula of musical thanatolgy.
 
Inspiration, spirit, wisdom.  Miracles and sacrifice.  Life itself.   

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Novel: fiction, women's fiction, book, dignity of death, dying, cancer, terminal illness, women's fiction, romance, drama, spiritual, inspirational, visionary, Ojibwa tea, Ojibwe, Midewiwin Grand Medicine Society, medicine carriers, Native American, cancer tea, natural  cures, cure for cancer, Afterlife, the veil, passing over, crossing over, the light, death doula, music thanatology, sacred dreamland, funeral vocalist

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