Why Am I Here?

A question I have asked myself a thousand times plus. What did I come here to do, to be, to accomplish? How will I know if I have done what I came here to do? How will I know I’ve lived my life on PURPOSE? How do I want humanity to remember me? What will my legacy be?

Within the last month I have personally witnessed more death than I have in all of my 46 years here on earth. Most recently my husband had open heart surgery and spent several days in the surgical intensive care unit. The unit itself is very imposing, but more imposing was the way I was forced to look at my own mortality.

In this little cubical of a room surrounded by glass and monitors telling us the status of our humanness I realized at some point these machines were the only thing keeping lungs breathing and hearts beating. I began to feel a sense of panic as I watched all the action while quietly posed in a small chair shoved in the corner almost as if I were hiding from death myself...as if one could!

As I watched from my corner I could see a family across the way who sat vigilantly by a loved one’s bed side. As I later learned she was the young man’s mother and the wife of the elder gentleman. The young man I had recognized from earlier in the day in the waiting room. He was a happy, courteous young man who had an amazing energy about him. It was as if he was glowing. He very cheerfully sang good morning to me as if we were at a local coffee shop enjoying a cappuccino and not waiting to see the fate of our loved ones. I remember thinking what a beautiful Soul.

I bonded with this family in an odd way. Here I was, not knowing them and yet feeling extremely connected to them. What I learned from the family was that their loved one had not done so well after her surgery. I witnessed first hand some of the trauma. I saw how quickly the little cubical grew into a full fledged operating room as they worked endlessly to stabilize her. As this was going on, all the visitors were asked to leave the unit and would be called back when things settled.

As the unit vacated I realized it seemed I was the only person who knew who the family was of the person “coding”. I watched in amazement as people moaned and grumbled, “Here we go again, pushed out of our loved ones rooms.” They were hashing and rehashing their own agenda and to do list. I decided to turn my focus to the father and son at the end of the corridor. I guessed they were hoping to hold a space closer to where their loved one was fighting for life. I observed how sad and extremely lost they looked. I realized this was the look of surrender, after all what choice did they have.

Communicating as I always do with Spirit, I found myself having dialogue about this family. Asking what could I possible do that would make a difference. What I heard loud and clear was that I should do what was in my heart. Coming outside of my body and watching myself walk down this long corridor toward this family I never once questioned what I was to do. It was with love and compassion I approached them.

I simply walked up to them and took the hand of the young man and placed my blessed angel in his shaking hand. As I closed his fingers tightly around the angel I held his hand whispered that it wasn’t the token that was significant, but rather the energy of love behind it. I told both of them that this angel had gotten me through some very troubling times, but it was apparent to me they needed it more than I did. I also shared with them my belief in a Higher Power that loves and protects us unconditionally.

All the while I am talking the young man has tears streaming down his face as his father stands there staring and slightly smiling at me. He very quietly told me his beloved was dying and there was nothing doctors could do. He proceeded to tell me what an amazing woman she is and all that she accomplished within her lifetime. Tears rolled off his face as he spoke but there was a sparkle in his eye as he recalled her life to me. At that moment I had never felt so privileged in my life.

I see death as being a very private event and for this family to allow me to share in their last moments I was deeply honored. To witness something so intensely private and personal as a Soul preparing to leave the earth is nothing short of a gift and certainly life altering. It occurred to me that death, a Soul leaving is a lot like birth, a Soul entering; the anticipation, the angst of when?, the pacing etc… The obvious difference being what we do with the time in between. This leads me back to PURPOSE, why am I here?

I was witness to the instant the machines were turned off and the life moved on. I saw the lines on all the machines go flat and I could hear the sobs from the father and son. Again, Spirit encouraged me to step out of my corner in the room and go to them and I did. The moment they left the room they saw me. The son came to me with such sorrow and sadness and all I could do was hold him with all the might a mother holds her child. I rocked him in my arms and spoke words of love and blessing to him. It seemed like an eternal hug and it was as if I could feel his sadness be absorbed into me and I too began to sob with the two of them right there as their family member’s shell lay waiting to be officially shut down and in plain view of my husband who was healing.

Later that day I ran into the father and he asked me if I had a few moments to talk privately with him. When we got behind closed doors and he began to tell me a bit of his life story and family history I once again felt honored. He said one thing to me that rocked my Soul in a way I have never known. He told me that he never really believed in a Higher Power, it just wasn’t something he thought about… until I approached him and his son in the hallway with the angel. He said after that experience he could begin to look for something bigger.

So I leave you with this thought… I now know what my legacy will be and the way I will live the remainder of my earth time. I am a messenger, a messenger of the Divine. What message will you deliver and how will you go about listening for the message?