To thealchemistspottery ,
This is my response to your healing project. WordPress won’t allow me to comment. I have cleared all cache. I can’t even “like” things. I had to do this to get this to you.
I cannot describe adequately how moved I am by your project and its reasons, your givingness and the outcome ALREADY REALIZED FOR ALL HERE READING,WRITING, INTERACTING – you have made a healing circle – and my heart literally goes out to every person here and everywhere, for we all suffer.
Thank you for doing what humans should be doing, which is a system of heart healing, the true magic.
First, let me say that of all the potteries, Raku is the elemental and transformational one. What metals do from earth elements and our intention is of a power that is unquantifiable.
I feel your grief and share with you empathy, love and all connectedness.
I’m gratefully submitting this link https://eatingtoascend.com/2018/12/27/in-memory-of-nichole-daughter-to-me-stolen-from-life-on-december-20-2018/ for you to open, print and transmute with all others in the collective fire of love.
Eight days passed since I was there. I had a silent, alone Christmas, as I have since 2012.
No one told me she had died, my own family shuns me, I am cut off from my granddaughter, Nichole’s daughter, and I had been with Nichole less than 48 hours before she died. I took her shopping for Christmas presents which I paid for, for her daughter/my granddaughter and her other daughter Lola. We stopped at her therapist’s office (state run) who broke pharaceutical protocol and yanked her off of Klonopin a week before Christmas and she was struggling with her Fentanyl addiction, badly “managed” by the Draconian ‘behavioral health care” system. In essence, she was murdered. She came out of that office sobbing, and had begged her therapist to let her stay on the Klonopin (which she had run out of and was already in need of to maintain the ridiculous cocktail they had her dependent upon) and her tehrapist refused. I stayed with Nichole until long after dark before driving the long drive home, talking with her about detox, emotional healing, spiritual growth, and things she could begin to do to regain her life and selfhood. I apologized for “talking her ear off” when she looked strained, listening, and she said “No, don’t! I’m getting it! I’m understanding so much it’s making my brain hurt!” And that’s when I knew she was having an awakening. Her pineal gland was opening up and fast.
Nichole was Rh Negative and of the Tribe of Dann. This is significant.
So the day before her death, an angel visited me and a stargate opened over my home. I gnow (gnosis/knowledge: they changed language to dilute meaning and weaponize it, and disempower the masses) that this was what it was, including the huge DNA spiral of light information.
The next day she accidentally overdosed on Fentanyl as my granddaughter was in the car being driven there to spend her school vacation with her mother.
I have to wonder, did she pass on, or take the dose, at the time on the clock in the photograph I took five years before (in the blogpost). I continued sending her heart energy and emails relevant to what we had been discussing, in particular two TED talks on spiritual awakening misunderstood for depression or psychosis, and the deadening effects on the human soul the “behavioral health system” has in its treatment methods.
Late in the evening on December 26th, her rommate called me, as Nichole’s husband, seeing my emails still coming to her phone, said something about my not knowing yet.
MY OWN SON, HER EX-HUSBAND, MY DAUGHTER, AND NICHOLE’S TWIN SISTER – also someone I have been close to these same 18 years – NEVER TOLD ME SHE WAS DEAD.
I called my son and he hung up on me.
My daughter called – for the first time in almost four years – the day before the memorial service, actually fishing for information but pretending she cared, asking how I learned of her death, but really to see if I had plans to come (to the memorial; she had been cremated), and then after we hung up immediately texted me forbidding me to come.
Nichole is the child who at 15 when she ran away from home, being abused by her stepfather, who I, a divorced working mother of two, took in. And again at 18, she came to live with me, and I drove her back and forth to finish high school – a 30 mile round trip, and I worked at a 45 horse barn, and there was commuter traffic – while her family rejected her.
She was a daughter to me and a friend.
I LOVE HER AND I MISS HER AND I MISS MY GRANDDAUGHTER EMILY, AND SHE WAS FORCED TO HAVE ME REMOVED FROM HER LIFE, AND THEN HER MOM.
I NEVER GOT TO GRIEVE, and worse than that, I myself am treated as if I am dead, with a twist: I’m not missed. (I never got to see her one last time. I could not comfort my granddaughter.)
Nichole was kinder to me in this life, more loving and supportive than any other human being has ever been.
She was heading back to SOURCE and her escort stopped by my house and made itself visible on December 19, 2018. I was wordlessly called to look out the window and see what I saw.
So please accept this letter from my heart, my spirit’s soaring song, and print it with the two printed posts I linked here, and add my love to yours and all of ours.
LOVE. Is. All.
We are ONE. Namaste and hugs to you.
I’ll see you soon, Nichole.