Today December 20th, 2019 marks one year since my daughter-in-law Nichole, the mother of my granddaughter Emily, left the body. I have been wanting to post all day in honor of her, but have been busy, then catching up on emails and reading when suddenly just now I heard a soft knock and simultaneous tinkling of a bell!
The voice of the bell is the song of spirit.
I looked over past my left elbow and my meditation bell was knocked over with enough force to push it forward enough to also flip over the box of matches I had just lit a stick of incense the universe gave to me today on the road to Laxman Jhula here in Rishikesh. This just happened. Nichole, thank you for gracing me with your spirit and ringing the bell next to me. Let this be truth for all – especially you, my dear, dear granddaughter Emily: Mommy is not gone, we are all one in love and consciousness, and she is right here, right now, always with you.
Yesterday I was telling a love how Nichole’s spirit visited when I photographed the shrine vigil I kept the night of her memorial service I was forbidden to attend by my children, as I am prophetically shunned. It is difficult to see in the two photographs but flits in each like a small yellow/greenish flame, a jhoti, in Hindi.