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When the souls leave..

When the souls leave..

 

For six months now, I've been going to physiotherapy and lymphatic drainage twice a week. After my hip surgery, this became necessary and I am always happy about the progress that every visit brings with it. During this time, there are also discussions with the therapists that go beyond the actual reason for my therapy.

 

Yesterday was such a day and my therapist told me about his experiences with the afterlife.

 

'When my mother died,' he began, 'we children all stood in her room and wanted to be with her.

 

It wasn't easy for my mother to go, which is one of the reasons why I noticed how her initial struggle was turning more and more into relaxation. She had not yet taken her last breath when I felt something going past me, also because it smelled like my mother. I looked at the clock, it was 2:30 p.m. and I though... then she'll make it until 3 p.m. to have coffee chat with dad ... as always. '

 

And then he continued: 'My mother was an enemy of funerals and asked us children not to organize a funeral service, not a big thing at the grave. But we didn't think about it  and organized a 'normal funeral service' ... When we left the chapel, it had started to rain. The rain got stronger and stronger, it poured heavily and behind us the rows of visitors thinned. Once at the grave, only the relatives were still there. We smiled and agreed that Mama had got it the way she wanted it.

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