Messages of Comfort: Coping with Grief and Loss by Sheri Leigh Myers
I was back in New Orleans, it was two months after my mother passed at our lake cottage in New Hampshire. Something woke me up at 4 a.m. and I couldn’t go back to sleep, despite the calm and coziness of my husband and two cats breathing steadily next to me in bed.
I got up, fixed a cold coffee and went up to my office to “catch up” on work. But all I could manage was a good, long cry as the sorrow rose up in the semi-dark.
I’d been stoically maintaining as much calm as I could muster. Now that we’d buried my mother, we were now fully focused on my husband’s cancer, his odds and his plan of treatment. But my Soul made time for weeping, in these wee hours before dawn.
And what’s extraordinary and wonderful are the words of comfort and love and grace that came through. If you have endured a loss, I truly hope these simple, pure words help you.
Here is the first message that came through:
“Oh my Darling, Angels were everywhere, waiting with open arms. You knew. I flew.”
To let the person you love go, is the most difficult experience of being human. If you can imagine your loved one, free of pain and suffering, a being of pure light and joy, surrounded by everyone they loved, then DO. Because that is what beckons from the Other Side.
Incidentally, we were certainly not raised to believe in Angels. Throughout my mother’s church-going life, which ranged from Ohio Methodist to Ocala, Florida Presbyterian to Contoocook, NH Congregational I don’t think any discussion of Angels ever went beyond placing something winged at the top of the Christmas tree.
But as I became more steeped in the world of Angel communicators through my podcast, HOW TO CONNECT WITH ANGELS, I dared to share a few books and amazing stories with my mother. She came to believe in the power and purpose of Angels in our lives. Her experience deepened from calling them “Sheri’s Angels” when something wonderful and miraculous happened, to sharing with me in her last months that she often felt a comforting presence at her left shoulder, when life felt too exhausting to continue.
(Of the 80+ interviews I’ve done, this is one of my very favorites.)
In her last years, our mother collected pretty Angels with a passion. Here is a photo of her bedoom window at our beloved lake cottage, where she was able to gently pass away: