04/26/2015 11:04 pm ET Updated Dec 06, 2017

Putting Away the Little Sneakbox Sailboat -- Moving on After My Husband's Death

I began making space in my private living quarters at Peace Awareness Labyrinth and Gardens for new things. While I wanted every piece of memorabilia visible as a way to keep Kenny's memory and his energy near me since he passed into Spirit in 2010, I realize these last five years of poring over volumes of material for our book, holed up in this room every spare moment is beginning to get old. The book is published, sharing our message that death can be a peaceful, loving, and sweet experience while grief can be transformational, is under way. I need to broaden my horizons. But for now, I'm still putting away the symbols that keep me looking to each one as if they would bring Kenny back to me.

Three days ago I put away his jam-packed retrospective photo album lovingly assembled by his sister as a parting gift.

Two days ago I put away our wedding album, but not before I looked over every photograph, harkening back to that fun and touching day when Kenny's heart was so open that he cried throughout the ceremony, recognizing, and might I say foretelling the tender yet powerful union we were promising each other.

Just yesterday I attempted to put away a three-dimensional tableau of a Barnegat Bay Sneakbox sailboat -- a depiction of the Jones family pastime of sailing on the bay -- every summer for decades, but it just wouldn't be hidden. Dusting it off, shining it up, I placed it in view once again. Oh but this morning while I was in the shower I heard a thud. Looking about after the shower, I found that the little sneakbox had fallen from its perch down behind the TV, unreachable -- for now anyway -- a sign I was on the right track?


Purposely avoiding the oversized portrait of Kenny, taken just 17 days before he passed, his forever smile and bright blue eyes beaming at me, I realize I am fraught with sadness and a bit of anger -- "Not okay that you left me, Kenny!" I would say to myself. "Not okay we couldn't save you." Eventually even this portrait, telling of Kenny's luminescent bright light still bright only a few days before his death, will need to come down.


I couldn't have anticipated the day I would strip this sweet and beautiful space we once shared, of my memories and symbols in order to make room for change in my life. But here it is upon me, right here and right now. I knew it would take intention and action, but not my memories, not my precious photographs. Not the little clay ducks from the Jones family's beloved Island House at Barnegat Bay. Not those too!

Why all this intentional change? Five years with manuscripts sprawled all over the floor. Five years of steeping myself in the grief that birthed Through Kenny's Eyes. Five years of transforming regret into forgiveness. Forgiveness for my inability to face the truth that might have brought us more joy and greater learning -- while he was still in his earthly body. Understanding and forgiveness for how myriads of choices led to Kenny's inevitable parting. Acceptance of how I am left here to pick up the pieces of my own broken life patterns -- alone. And finally gratitude for the avalanche of learning I have opened myself to since Kenny's passing. It took a life for me to get God's message -- Kenny's life.

Truth matters. Truth can bring down any life pattern rooted in illusion. Truth can bring peace and relief from struggle. Truth wells up only so far, and then it is up to my Conscious Self to uncover its riches. To wade through the muck and the mire, searching for its brilliance as it bubbles up. Even if there's only an inkling that truth exists, mindfully awakening to it, I can bring forward the kind of life transformation I never thought was possible.

I say this from my own experience of unraveling the embedded, twisted and miasma-locked thought forms so that more of my True Self was, and is, emerging daily. And thanks to the power of writing and the way my creative mind strives to give life to the very processes that help me let go of illusion and come present in reality, the reality of the truth as I know it.

The best, most comforting, most real, and breath-taking truth is that instead of human beings who happen to have a soul to which we may or may not pay attention, we are indeed Divine Souls, designed to have the perfect human experience that can bring liberation from our karmic flow. And why? So we may learn to love ourselves and each other unconditionally. So that we may serve each other in our greatest need. So that we may learn to give from our heart's desire to touch another human being.

So now as I put away the ducks, the photos, the miniature cast iron biplanes, the bright red Valentine's Day beaded evening purse, and all the rest, my soul touches into my heart, freeing a space for newness, for fresh air, for love and forgiveness to reign here within my consciousness, in this temple we call the physical body -- in this perfectly designed human experience. Blessings abound on every level of consciousness, breathing life into every corner that once was hidden from view. The truth shall set me free.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO SHARE? Everyone will pass from this world and nearly everyone will have a loved one pass before us. I welcome your comments and stories of transformation about the loss of a loved one or any major newness you have birthed in your life. And what have you learned since your loved one left their physical body?

And if you'd like to read about Kenny's uplifting and brilliant, Light-filled outlook on his own death and dying, take the opportunity to order Through Kenny's Eyes -- A Magnificent Journey from Illness to Ecstasy.