Eight Difficult Deaths:

Terry Summer 1995

Terry was an active social worker, responsible for programs helping children all over the state. She had the power to bring warmth and laughter wherever she went. Her death in her late thirties shattered a huge network of family, friends, and colleagues.
She had a normal Friday at work, went grocery shopping, then home. Her partner Melissa was to pick her up about seven. Melissa called to see if Terry was ready to go to the potluck they’d been invited to that evening. Receiving no answer, Melissa just went ahead and jumped in the car.

Arriving at Terry’s house, she walked in and discovered her “asleep” on the couch. It soon became clear that Terry was no longer living. She had suffered a brain aneurysm and died almost instantly. 

Sunday morning I got a call from Melissa telling me of Terry’s death. She asked me to help with the memorial service and to meet with them later that day. I told her I’d be happy to help out, but that I needed to talk with my family before I could meet with her and Terry’s family. After re-figuring our schedule, I sat for a moment and thought about Terry. I got an image of her, the body very soft, the face strained, gaunt, and frozen. 

I called Melissa back. As we talked, I decided to share my image with her. She said, “That’s exactly how she looked - her body was totally relaxed, let go, but her face looked really tense.” Melissa and Terry had shared more and more spirituality the last couple of years of their ten-year relationship. Melissa felt she was communicating with Terry, trying to send her healing and reassurance, and was very comfortable with my input. She told me their communication served to heal some of the hard edges of the loss for both of them in those first days.

My work was mostly pastoral care - helping Terry’s family and friends to create a fitting memorial service. At the service itself, I got a chance to work on Terry.

Hundreds of people attended the service, their hearts torn open. The energy, despite the August heat that filled the over-crowded church, was powerful and loving. About the middle of the service I saw Terry suspended in the air over the congregation. She seemed to reach and “unzip” her body along the midline. It peeled back and she emerged from it. She looked like a being made totally of light, her outer shape featureless but human. The “bodysuit” seemed to be stuck at her feet - I began to work with her, sending energy from where I sat near the pulpit. Her feet slipped out and she did a sort of rising swan dive, stretching out her “arms” and arching her back. She looked beautiful, filled with joy and freedom, soaring and moving upward.

Later, I thought that maybe she moved through stages that normally take longer after death. It felt like the energy and love and special celebration that flowed through her memorial service fueled her transformation. She was conscious in shedding her identification with her body, and the human shape of the light form I saw suggests to me that something about her identity crossed through the dissolution of her form. I felt that I had witnessed something special: the love of a community enabling a profound letting go and realization on the part of the beloved. Months later, in a moment of contraction, and fear in the face of my own spiritual unfolding, I heard a voice say “...Terry showed you how”.