The Good in Good-Bye…

I get asked A LOT of questions when people find out that I am a Psychic Medium, and I get it- it’s extremely interesting and I love the fact that people are so curious about life after “life” …. But some questions I get asked are truly ridiculous. I was out a few months ago and a guy came up to me and said (and I quote) “so do you still get sad when someone close to you dies? Because, you know, you still get to talk to them and stuff?” WHAT.THE.ACTUAL.FUCK!?  

Contrary to popular belief, the stairway-to-heaven is not located in my house and I cannot just call up to heaven like “yo grandma, where you at?” Unfortunately, it does not work that way. So yes, mediums do cry and we grieve the same way everyone else does and sometimes, the people we love will even ask us to help them transition to the other side. Here is my story on just that. 

Disclaimer: The story below and the details contained in it, are extremely personal to me. The situation and circumstances that I am about to share still affect me to this day (if anyone was wondering).

My beautiful Aunt Doe…She was my go-to person for just about everything. She was right there for EVERY major milestone in my life.  She made the good times better and the bad times more bearable. She is the one to thank for my incredible sense of humor as she was by far, one of the funniest people I have ever known. She was one of the first people I told when I discovered I was a Medium and although she laughed at first, she later told me she was not surprised at all, go figure. 

Aunt Doe was truly the center of our entire family. So, in February of 2016 when Aunt Doe was diagnosed with cancer, it became our mission to get her better. My sister spent most days researching alternative treatments and sharing in the responsibility, along with my parents and my Aunt Diane to take her to doctor appointments and chemo treatments. Aunt Doe worked for a large pharmaceutical company for many years and wasn’t buying into our “alternative” medical treatment options (or as she liked to call it “our voodoo shit”).

In early January of the following year, the disease progressed and Aunt Doe required 24-hour care. I was afraid to see her, afraid to see what this disease had taken away from her. Instead of running towards her, all I really wanted to do was run away, like if I didn’t see it, it wouldn’t be true. I guess that’s a normal reaction, no one wants to see a person that they love, someone that they have admired, looked up to and depended on their entire life, suffer the way cancer makes you suffer. But, as the saying goes- when you love someone, you put their needs above your own. And something in my gut told me, she really, really needed me. I decided to sleep at her house one weekend and when I arrived early that Saturday morning, it seemed like it would be a usual day. We made jokes, we laughed, Aunt Doe told my sister her boobs were pathetic and all seemed well and normal…until it wasn’t. It was about 9 o’clock at night and the rest of my family was getting ready to leave, I was getting ready for bed and she became extremely agitated. I could hear her in her bedroom yelling at the aides, that we had hired to help us care for her…Aunt Doe tortured them (which, in her health days…was really not like her at all). 

As I entered my Aunts bedroom, she looked at me and said “no Judy, I’m not ready- I’m not going yet.” I looked behind me and then back at my Aunt and said “who the hell are you talking to?” She responded “I’m talking to Judy- she’s trying to take me with her to the party- but I am not ready to go!” (Ummm what party? was I invited? what drugs was Aunt Doe on and did she have any left for me??) I was so freaked out that I did the only thing that I felt was appropriate at that moment…I went outside and chain smoked. 

This went on for hours, and although it was 3 o’clock in the morning now, I called my mother screaming that my Aunt was dying and I begged her to come back. I was honestly afraid and hysterical crying. The only thing I could remember my mother saying was “she’s not dying and do not under any circumstance, let her see you crying”. As I walked back into the house, I could still hear her yelling, there was ping of terror in her voice. She wasn’t just agitated, she was afraid… and I had had ENOUGH! I walked into her bedroom with tears still pouring from my eyes (I never listen to my mother anyway). My Aunt looked at me and immediately calmed down. I asked the aides to leave the room and I closed the door. As I turned back around and started to walk towards my aunt, I saw Judy, right there – standing in the corner of my aunts’ bedroom (I found out the next day that Judy was her cousin who had passed away years before…..Judy was there to bring her home, a thought that was to unbearable to handle ) I tried to ignore the fact that dead Judy was in the corner and turned my focus back to my Aunt. As I sat down next to her on the bed, we locked eyes and I vividly remember this: My Aunts eyes looked different, very different. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time, like really seeing her, into her soul.  She looked at me and said “my baby you’re crying” and I said “no shit Aunt Doe” she took my hands and said “well, I brought you here for a reason. Baby, I’m dying- I’m scared and you are here to help me crossover.” After I caught my breath, I looked at her and said “um no thanks, I’m good.” She laughed for a moment and then said “no baby, you have to, I need you to help me. Think of all the times I helped you… YOU OWE ME” (she laughed) but she was right…. I definitely did owe her but I had no idea how to help her cross over but apparently, I was going to have to figure it out and fast. After a few moments I answered her “okay Aunt Doe, I will help you, but it’s not happening tonight” She shook her head in agreement. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and grabbed my face, I thought she was about to give me some life altering advice but instead she said “you should really put some make up on, you look terrible!” 

After that interesting chat, I asked the aides to help me move her back to the chair in the living room where she was more comfortable. We spent the next few hours chatting here and there about everything and anything other than her impending death and the role she was forcing me play in it. My family returned the next morning and although I did not tell them about the conversation we had or the fact that, I too, saw Judy, I did tell them that I thought it would be Aunt Doe’s last day with us. They disagreed (but I expected them to). I think they did notice that there was a big change in Aunt Doe from the day before and this caused everyone to be little on edge. I now know that my Aunt was actually starting to transition. As the hours passed, our conversation from the night before was weighing on me. How was I supposed to help her? This was torture, she was fighting it, she was so afraid and so uncomfortable and my heart was completely broken. My Aunt and I would make eye contact from across the room and I kept giving her the sign that it wasn’t time yet (I was secretly hoping it would just happen and I didn’t have to coach her through it…who the hell asks someone to guide them to the other side? I mean, she knows I have the worst sense of direction).

As day turned to night weird things started to happen. The lights in the house started flickering like crazy and I started shivering uncontrollably, it was as if my bones where actually FROZEN. It got so bad that, at one point, my sister said to me “what’s wrong with you? You’re not going to die, too are you?” As I sat on the couch shivering, I saw the spirit of my grandfather walk in, he was all dressed up in his military uniform and my aunt said “hi dad” … I officially lost my mind. 

At that exact moment, my family members stood up and announced that they were going home (why were they leaving? … the party was just getting started!!) I looked over at my sister and told her she didn’t have a choice, she was staying with me. As everyone started saying good-bye, I had this sinking feeling in my stomach- as only I knew it was going to be the last time. As things started to quiet down, Aunt Doe took my hand and said “my baby I’m scared, it’s dark here.” I squeezed her hand tight and said “No, Aunt Doe it’s not, I promise” (I was clearly lying, what the fuck did I know, I was just assuming the road to heaven was probably not going to be dark) I felt her body totally relax, she closed her eyes and said “ohhh you’re right it’s not.” About 45 minutes later, as I sat on the couch with my sister, I heard my grandfather’s voice tell me “grab her hand, its time” I jumped up and yelled at my sister “grab her hand its time!!!” My sister looked up at me, genuinely confused and said “it’s time for what?” I said “Aunt Doe is dying Dina, it’s time now!!!” I guess she heard the seriousness in my voice because she didn’t question me again. We both took Aunt Doe’s hands and rubbed them. We told her how much we loved her and how important she was to all of us. My sister started to sing her the song that my Aunt used to sing to my nephew to help him sleep and when we thought she took her last breath, we both started crying. However, Aunt Doe started breathing again. One of the aides ran over to us and said “she came back because she heard you crying, she won’t go if she hears you cry, so don’t cry!” In my mind I thought “are you fucking kidding me Aunt Doe? You’re going to make us do this all over again!?” and so we did, we grabbed her hands and told her again how much we loved her and my sister re-sang the song, and Aunt Doe took her last breath…again! 

At the exact time of her death, I felt her spirit move through me. It was a feeling that is truly hard to describe. I don’t know, kind of like complete and pure joy, love and happiness, something I have never felt before. I sat back in the chair and yelled “Oh My G-d, that was the most beautiful and life changing experience!” Then, jokingly, called myself a death doula (I had no idea at the time that a death doula was a real thing).I immediately asked the aide to open the window to free her soul and my sister and I poured ourselves a glass of gin and tonic (my aunt’s favorite), and said cheers over her dead body (don’t judge me…it seemed appropriate at the time) and then I had to call my parents and break the news to them. 

I still replay the moments of those two days in my mind all the time. And, to be quite honest, I am still tortured by it. I am very thankful that I was able to provide her some comfort in the last few moments of her life and so grateful that the last thing she heard was how much she was loved, but I still wish I could have done more. I wish I knew then what I know now after studying and researching what it is to be a Death Doula. I wish I knew the signs of transitioning like I know them now, as I would have been able to recognize that she was dying sooner. I would have been able to better prepare her and my family for what was to come. I would have asked her how she wanted to pass and what she wanted those last moments to be like. I would have made sure there was no tension in the house and most importantly, I would have made sure that she was not afraid MUCH SOONER. We live in a society where death is feared, and that’s understandable. But whether we like to openly talk about it or not, all of us, at some point, will die (SURPRISE).  On average, 1,500 people die every day of terminal illness and more than 50% of those people, wish to die at home. This is why, in memory of my beautiful Aunt Doe, I am making it part of my mission to change the way we look at death, to give dignity back to the dying and to put some GOOD into Good-Bye. 

Please feel free to email me at h0lyshiftnyc@gmail.comif you have any questions on what a death doula is and the services that they provide.