Dear TAT Friend,
Woohoo! I closed on my mom's house yesterday, and it felt really good. After leading the Closing Up a Home and Moving On webinar, I felt a new sense of clarity and energy about this transition. I had all the help I needed for getting the house ready, packing everything up, and actually selling it. In fact, once we put it on the market it sold in five days!
A couple of things the buyer wanted changed came up as we got ready for the closing, but they never felt big or unmanageable. When I had any thoughts or feelings come up that didn't feel good, I did TAT about them. I made the usual intention that the TAT was on behalf of everyone involved, which included the buyers, the real estate agents, the inspectors, the bank -- everyone. TAT definitely helped make this a pretty easy process for me.
I cried my last day in the house -- missing my mom, remembering family events and knowing this was the end of this part of my life and our lives together in the house. Then I thanked the house for supporting all of us for all that time -- we'd been there almost 50 years. I asked my mom to be with me. She appeared to me like a big, bright, softly glowing divine motherly angel centered right in my heart. Then I knew I didn't need to be in the house to have her with me and felt good again.
Dear TAT Friend,
My mom's house is almost empty of all of her things now. I got sad. I felt how the house itself has been like a mother to our family. And I started to feel sad thinking about missing all the fruit trees my dad planted and my strong feelings of my living relationships with all our family's plants and the land itself. So I did the TAT Pose and had a silent conversation with the house, the land and all the plants to say "thank you, I love you and our love will always be with me." I felt the house, the land, the plants and trees warmly say back to me, "You'll always have our support, no matter where you are."
You can always do the TAT Pose and have silent conversation with whomever and whatever you want without even doing any other Steps and it can be very calming and healing. It was for me. I ended up with sweet feelings of love and affection and a sense of freedom about where I live - even after the house is sold.
Dear TAT Friends,
You know how when you’re feeling really happy and good inside, the whole world looks brighter and lots of people smile to see you? I’d love more of that for us — that’s what the Drenched in Love webinar is for.
At the start of doing a big "pot" of TAT stuff, I usually feel stuck and grumpy. Thoughts like "hmmph, this can never change…it’s how I’ve always been" come up. Almost always, after about five minutes into doing TAT, I’m grinning: it feels like an irresistible fountain of happiness is pouring up through me and life feels good. And stuff that gets cleared up has stayed cleared up — life keeps getting better.
Yesterday, looking alternately out the window (gorgeous view across half a mile of trees and homes to the blue Pacific) and at my computer as I worked, I heard two creaks in the floor behind me. I turned to look. There was nothing there. I suspected it might be my mom walking through the living room. (In case you haven’t read newsletters from earlier this year, my mom died at the end of January. You can read more here .)
Later in the afternoon, I was chatting on the phone and heard those same creaks. "Maybe it was from the attic", I mused to myself…we’d heard some critters up there recently. But then I realized that I wouldn’t be hearing all the way to downstairs from the attic and besides, it was the floorboards I heard. Our family has lived in this house since 1963 and I have never heard squeaking floorboards when someone wasn’t walking on them.
I just realized tonight that my connection with my mom has been embodied by being in this house with her. Our family has lived in this house since I was 11 and I was the trustee for the family trust, so I took care of things like legal affairs, paying bills, and going through the mail with my mom. It’s only dawned on me tonight that having that relationship winding down now is stressful. So…you can believe that by the time you get this newsletter, I’ll have done TAT about it.
During the teleseminar on grief that we just finished, missing my mom didn’t come up. What came up was missing my dad, who died over 14 years ago. There was some distress that happened the last time I saw him before he died, and I had never cleared it.
Thank you for your prayers and good wishes. Please accept my love and thanks. The tender, connected quality of our community is lovely.
I’ve been surprised at how much has gone on between my mom and me since she left her body.
One central thing I did TAT about not too long before she left that body was something about completely accepting what’s real for me in the moment…not trying to bend my experience even a tiny bit to suit someone else’s ideas. For instance, at one point, I had the strong feeling that I was going to be in the house with my mom till she died. I couldn’t have consciously known when that would be and there were many times in the past year that I felt pretty certain she was going to die soon. But one day, I felt “I have to be with her till she dies”…not knowing how long that might be. So I did it. I immediately left my then current happy surroundings to be near my mom. In fact, one person said something like, “Oh, this has happened so many times before with your mom. Don’t you think this is a false alarm?” I didn’t. So, I recommend you do TAT for believing in or accepting your own experience just as it is, completely independent of anyone else’s thoughts.
It’s been a long time since we were in touch. My mom appeared to be getting close to death over the past six weeks and so I spent a lot of time near her. About a week and a half ago, she became more inward. Last Thursday night, my brother and his wife and my boyfriend and I were up late at Mom’s, sharing a lovely evening in front of a fire. We stood near the front door about a quarter past midnight, laughing and carrying on and said our good nights to each other. My mom was in her room just within a few feet of our boisterous, warm good-byes.
Maybe five minutes later, when I went in to her room to help change her nightgown, her face was very pale and I thought she’d died. I leaned close, put my hand on her chest and she took a gentle breath. That was her last.