The other day, in the early morning, my five year old snuggled up on my lap with her blanky and her stuffed fox and her sleepytime hair. She was crying. She had had a bad dream. “Mommy, I never want you to die. I never want to lose you.”
I set down my coffee and my computer, took out a notebook and some pens, and drew her this:
“We are all bigger than our skin,” I said as I colored. She watched me quietly. “We all are part of our own Big Me, which is our soul. See? Yours is pink in this picture, and mine is yellow. And our Big Me lives on forever. When I die, the part of Big Me that has been here with you will simply leave my body and go back to the Spirit Realm, where I can love you with all my might, even more, without the boundaries of this body. Even after I die, and you can’t touch me, I’ll still be with you. You can communicate with me through your heart and your mind whenever you want. I’ve always loved you and I’ll always love you. We were together before and we’re together now, and we can choose to be together again, both in the Spirit Realm and back here on Earth in another life, if that’s what we want to do.”
She sat for a while and looked at the picture.
“Like when I was your mommy before and you were my baby?”
“Yes.”
“Will we always be mommy and baby?”
“No. Not necessarily. We might be daddy and baby or friends or brother and sister. You see?”
I watched her thinking about it. She traced her fingers over the arrows and touched the figures.
“Ok. I get it, Mommy. But who will give me Reiki?”
“Oh,” I smiled. “I’ll teach you how.”
“It won’t be the same.”
“I know. But is that ok?”
“Yes. I will just use my magic mind powers to call you and we can do it long distance.”
I laughed. “That’s a deal.”