Linna, Family Counselor
Note: The story of Linna’s life and how she passed away and was memorialized is beautifully and lovingly written by my friend who knew her well. She and I were the persons working on this material as the The Round Table began to reveal bits and pieces of their stories. Her touching tribute (in its entirety) will be included in The StoryTellers book, now being prepared for publication.
These are a few points of the reflections made in that tribute:
Living—and dying—with Linna was an education. The meaning of life crystallized so much more clearly when we who love her saw her slip "away." But the most important point and what her legacy bespeaks is that she lives today! She did not die—the dry-sense-of-humor and feeling-guilty-when-she-had-feelings-of-guilt Linna we knew. From her vantage point, perhaps it is we here who have slipped "away."
Although I feel the loss of being unable to see Linna and talk with her face to face, I consider myself wondrously blessed because of the lessons I have learned from her.
We know she must be growing, and we applaud that. She was an educator but also someone who relished broadening her own education. It makes me smile just to think of her in the classrooms of the spiritual world, formulating insights and noticing subtle nuances of whatever she is studying and creating, just as she did while on earth. I feel that she is just waiting to show us from this world all about life in that world once we fully "arrive."
And once we arrive, all the rhetoric and philosophical maybes within our minds will give way to an unearthing of what is truly important—the state of the heart. Through living and dying with Linna, we witnessed the quintessential knowledge that love should be the primary consideration for all of us now.
All the worries we have today—from making the mortgage payment to making life here "perfect"—will be seen in true perspective once we leave here. The freedom we are all looking for is something we can accomplish through acceptance—from accepting ourselves to accepting God and others. It is simple. Living should be natural gestures of love—moment to moment, day by day. We who, for the most part, live mainly focused on the earth make our journey so complicated.
The afterlife is not merely life...after. It is life now. And preparing for it is not meant to be an afterthought. Our preparation is now. Today. Whether we realize it or not. This moment. The success-oriented books affirming positive thought are powerful and essential to everyone's life--for good mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health. If we are positive that we will continue living after our body is laid to rest, then we might just have the courage to start to be about the business of living life fully rather than filling our days of busyness.
To me, Linna became ever-more wise before the advent of passing. Wise not in the amount of facts she was learning, but wise enough to live with more desperation of purpose. She was wise in her comfort to family and friends. She wisely prepared them to look at their lives and that hers was taking on a new dimension.
Even when I met her years ago, Linna talked about her resolve to live in Heaven's realms. Sometimes, much as it troubles most of us from time to time, that nagging fear of wondering where she would "end up" came through as she prepared to die. But the closer she came to entering the spirit world, the calmer she became, and the easier it was to sense her confidence that when one lies in love, the looming threat of living in hell dissipates. At that point, I saw that the need to pretend to be a certain way for certain people was no longer important. And that living in love here will make the transition to living in love there easier. In naturalness, stripping away the false walls, we saw the true spirit of our Linna emerge, even as her shell began to disintegrate.
Her meditations helped her focus on visualizing a place of peace, which must be where she takes refuge now. She created that place where her spirit was at home, even as she lived on the earth. Creating such a place for my own spirit's homecoming is something I learned from Linna.
(N.S.)
This is a portion of Linna’s message channeled from the spirit world:
Going Home—on Earth and in Spirit World
Just before my passing, I felt my only real option was to go to my childhood home because I needed to feel safe and secure; my parents welcomed me. Going home was a really important part of my passage. Almost like a little girl, I had once more to experience the comfort and solace of my parents and revisit my childhood dreams. These were not the dreams I could experience as a grown woman with children and a husband of her own. I died trying to love.
In some respects, the home my husband and I had built for our family didn't have that same feeling. I had not understood enough about family, and I had also not understood enough how to make that net on which my husband, myself, and our children could bounce back—higher, further—whatever. So I went to my parents' home. I'm not the only one who has ever done that, of course; others have needed that same peace. But now I see why I felt compelled to do so: I was unable to make my own family a priority. I needed intimacy. I went where I could experience it.
As I objectively observed what I did, I realized it was a good choice because so many dear friends visited me before my death. We all couldn't have easily fit as nicely in the home my husband and I had--physically, yes, but mostly emotionally. That, to me, is painful. Can you understand? It doesn't make my passing any less beautiful because it was beautiful and wondrous!
The carpet of highway I traveled at that time was well laid out for me. However, because my family is dispersed now, I feel anxious. I couldn't be the glue to affect our coming together as I should have. I didn't find enough balance between doing my work and tending to them.
I do feel differently now, although I am still anxious about my immediate family—husband, and children—{Note: since this channel began receiving this information, my father, mother, and just recently my husband have all passed to this side of life. But more about that later.} being together sporadically during my last weeks on Earth. My "family" of beloved friends, my parents, and my siblings were with me. This was a comfort, but sometimes, when I consider my husband and children, I know I had not focused on our bonding as a family unit. At the time of my passing, I guess I just didn't have the strength to pull my husband and children into a deeper relationship with me. From here, I have that perspective, and although it still causes some anxiety, I can smile about it now.
My understanding of the tremendous depth and purpose of building a family is growing. I could not see or understand why so much before. Logically, it made sense. I saw my parents do it—I literally experienced it! And trying to do so was definitely emotional—because all kinds of emotions jutted out and made me have a meltdown. In my "liquid phase" (reduced to tears in moments when I was alone), I had no power or strength to work on making my family stronger. I loved the idea of white picket fences. But our home, emotionally, never had one. I only erected the plot markers in hopes one could someday be built.
I hope people can comprehend that no matter how much loving friends seek to make you whole if you don't feel the freedom to travel your life with your children--in some way--something is missing. They add a dimension of wholeness you cannot get from anyone else. Loving friends, loving parents, and loving brothers and sisters help you gain a perspective of yourself. But somehow, if there is a hole in the relationships of your immediate family that isn't filled in, the gap remains once you come here.
Even now—several years hence—I still feel a big gap. I do. I'm working on it from here. It wasn't easy to face on Earth, but it's even harder now. I am determined to work on filling it in. What I am mainly doing is to make the home here that I couldn't make there. I don't just mean in terms of gathering building materials and putting things together in designing a house—a home—that my husband and children can use here. I speak more about creating a substantial welcome to my husband and children, that I could not do as well while on earth.
If you put tons of energy and focus on developing your friendships or fulfilling your career, but it isn't balanced with making a good family home, then there will be a hole—one you will surely see, one you will surely feel. I am sure you won't be able to miss it.
You may consider this a bit crazy since my children are grown now. I am not talking about putting in a playroom or a swing set. I am talking about constructing a hearth which they can sit near later. It is much more about the intention of honoring them for who they are who they are becoming. The ideals of lacy curtains and rugs and memorabilia, which tugs at their memories of their own childhood, is not what I am getting at. I'll explain a bit more later.