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A week of forgetting

A week of forgetting

My Father leaves the Planet

My Father Paul Sydney Swain made his transition, back to our eternal reality, on the 29 November 2005. 36 hours after his 75th birthday. He had been suffering complications of lymphatic cancer and was in a private hospital in Melbourne having more radiation treatment. They told him this treatment might extend his life.

They didn’t listen to his soul wanting to go home and so proceeded to bombard his weak and fragile body with radiation, in the hope it would kill off the cancer cells. Even dad didn’t accept that he wanted to leave, for the most part, as he had been trying all manner of healing treatments trying to stay alive. But it was always evident to me that his time here had come to an end for now. He had achieved all that he wanted in this physical life and felt content to return to his source and broader perspective. A perspective which would not include the pain, trauma and confusion he was experiencing at the end of his days, while he was coping with his illness and the many treatments he endured.

All his children from all his marriages flew down to Melbourne to say good-bye, something he really appreciated, as he waited for us. It was a wonderful experience in Melbourne. I flew down with my two brothers, we spent the night in an apartment near the hospital. It was wonderful to be with them alone, just the three of us, like when we were children. It is not often this happens when we grow up and get married, or have friends with common interests. I don’t think we had spent time alone like this since we were children. We stayed up most of the night discussing things we had never spoken about before.

When we arrived at the hospital late in the afternoon to say our last words to Dad, he was still sitting up talking with an Oxygen machine pumping air into his lungs, as he was having difficulty breathing. He thanked us all for being there to say goodbye and see him off on his next adventure. And while there were seven very sad faces surrounding his bed looking on in bewilderment, he said… “Come on who is going to sing? Someone sing a song!”

He was joyous, I think relieved he had finally made up his mind he was going home. Or at least trying to lighten the mood. He spoke his words of peace looking back on how he had tried to include and look after all of us in the only way he knew how. Then he started to apologise for giving us pain at certain times in his life. So I replied, ” well you could call it pain or you could call it variety, which is always the spice of life!”

After an hour or two, he asked us to leave as he was tired and wanted to rest. As we took off down the hospital corridor, I turned to have a last glance at the only father I had ever known in this lifetime. He looked up from his resting position and caught my gaze, he waved goodbye with a twinkle in his eye. This was the last time I saw my father’s face while his spirit was inhabiting his physical form.  His vital signs ceased at around 4.40am the next morning, but I believe he left pretty soon after we left when he went back to sleep.

When I think of him now, I see a smiling face very content and joyous, surrounded by golden light. He said all he had to say, he has no regrets (as he did in life) and is now happy to be apart of our lives with renewed vigour and confidence that all is well. The word that comes to mind when I try to describe my feeling of him now, is ” Radiance.”

It is a bitter-sweet time for his family and friends. His wife Veronica Swain,  Dad’s third wife, is not dealing well at the loss of her  companion and father of her three daughters. She is now looking to build a new life without him and not sure, at this stage, how she is going to do that. I know all will be revealed soon and a full life lies ahead for us all when our grieving is done.

The knowing that he is no longer in physical pain and has reemerged back into Pure Positive Energy again is a wondrous thought and feeling for me.

I will always be eternally grateful for all that he gave to me, the good times and the bad. It is those trying times that had me reach for understanding, compassion and acceptance of the differences we all experience in this profound time space reality. It is what made me and why I love life so much today. He leaves here to continue reaching for more exciting physical adventures seven children, Paul, KAren, Peter, Sinclair, Alicia, Christiane, Catriona, and four Grandchildren, Anika, Olivia, Julliette and Thomas.


A week of forgetting

December 2005

What a time it was leading up to the day of my fathers funeral. For the best part of 23 years, since my father married his third wife, his four children from his first marriages have not been apart of his existence. An only child, my father’s third wife was not willing to share Dad with his other children or his past. Understandably she wanted to create a new life with him that centered around her, which meant doing her best to create difficulties around contacting our father.

During the past three years Dad had been dealing with physical illness, so from a place of  wanting him to have more to live for, his wife decided it could be a good idea to include us more. We didn’t have many times together, but the times that we did spend together were great and I will always be thankful for that. It was during this time, especially leading up to his eventual departure from his physical experience, that solidarity of the family grew, and earlier this year we had a family reunion for the first time.

Sinclair  my brother from Dads second marriage had never really met his three sisters from his third marriage. He made a special effort to fly up to Sydney from Melbourne to do so and be a part of a history making event. A lunch I held in my home. We took lots of pictures and tried our best to look like a happy family. It was a beautiful day with great food, great weather, nice conversation and a dream come true for my little brother Peter, who had requested we all get together before Dad left the planet. Although for the younger members of the family it was a bit confusing as they tried to understand how all these strangers are related.

But during the week leading up to my Father’s funeral, my stepmother reverted back to her old ways. Despite many offerings from Dad’s adult children to be of assistance organizing the event, she went ahead and organized the day the way she wanted it. This meant the exclusion of any input at the service from my three brothers and myself. When we found this out my older brother Paul and I put in a phone call to our stepmother imploring her to let our younger brother speak at the service and honour our Father on behalf of us all. She told me that it was going to be a very elegant funeral and that my brother was not sophisticated enough (in her eyes) to make a speech. Well! You can imagine how this went down with me. I told her that he may seem like that to her but that he was the most caring, giving, loving, generous man I had ever known , he would give you the last shirt of his back if you needed it, and in my book that FAR out weighed her opinion of him, and that it was important to him to honour his Father at his funeral. She informed me, ‘she just didn’t care.’

Something I had always known, if she did care, she would never have behaved as badly as she did for the last 23 years. I am sure she made this decision from a place of disconnection to her source and her inner knowing. As the minister of the service reminded me, she was speaking and acting from her grief and fear. Unfortunately I let her disconnection inspire my disconnection, and allowed myself to be very upset about this. As it turned out I spoke to reverend Canon Jobbins the night before the funeral wanting to know if he would allow my little brother to speak. He informed me, that even though he was in charge of what happens in the church and on the day, he has to follow my stepmother’s wishes as she was the person who was paying for the funeral.

We spoke about how it would be nice if people, especially families, got along better. We finished the conversation satisfied that even though we had two very different ideologies, we held a similar vision for the world based in Love and Peace.

The miracle occurred on the morning of the funeral, my stepmother had a change of heart and called my little brother to say he could speak at the service. When I informed the Reverend minutes before the service began, he said to me. “It is wonderful the power of prayer.” He had prayed that night that my brother could participate in the service and honour his Father as he had intended.

He had not allowed himself to feel disconnected to his source, as I had, and his prayers were answered.

The disconnection, or anger, hit me strongly and I came down with a cold and flu symptoms which left me feeling like I had been hit by a truck. This pain in my body reminded me that my anger at someone else’s bad behaviour was not hurting them, but it was hurting me. It was a powerful message to stay focused on feeling good no matter what anyone else is doing, being or saying, and how I am in control of how I feel regardless of the emotional crimes of powerless people looking to control their circumstances.

I had a week of forgetting, and it was just so great the universe put the blessed Reverend in my path to remind me to feel good and how feeling good lined up with the power of focused thought, or prayer, always achieves a good result.

My Brother Peter honoured us all with his magnificent speech. We all knew it wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to do, out of all of us he is the most sensitive to the wounds of others, and for the most part he kept it together pretty well. We all knew he would lose it when he mentioned the grandchildren, but it is that raw emotion that makes life so rich. As it turned out his speech was the highlight of the service as he enlightened us all about Dad’s life and loves.

Peter told me after the funeral, he was going to speak no matter what. He was Not going to let my stepmother and her stressful thoughts and controlling ways stop him from speaking his peace at his father’s funeral. “Who would stop me if I rose to speak in a church” He said… We are all very proud of Peter’s courage and the enormous compassion he displayed, by allowing others to be who ever they want to be without this affecting his loving opinion of them.

Today, the day after the funeral, I am still recovering from my place of disconnection but as I reread the Reminders from Home messages from Blissful Beings on my website, I have once again been reminded to focus on what feels good, and my body is enjoying a speedy recovery from the aches and pains I had last night and this morning. Although I may not live it in every moment, I am so grateful for the beautiful words of inspiration that funnel through me when I speak from a place of connection to my inner being.

It is just so great to remember and I am grateful to the many people who live to remind us.

Compassion is such a delicious feeling, and now I can say peace of mind reigns supreme again in my life.

Love is all… And we are ONE

KAren Swain…

mum dad
Mum and Dad the old days

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