Greetings!
The 48th day was a Sunday. I did not tell my son about the Chinese tradition **. ( ** In our Chinese culture, it was said that those that died might stay around for up to 49 days before moving on with their journey.)
With his warrior nature, my son looked at life's situation as a challenge, and one should fight to win no matter what. After his father moved on, he had occasionally said that he wished his father had fought to live; he would have taken care of his father no matter what the consequence of his illness would be. Therefore, I did not tell him that the next day was the 49th day since his father moved on.
Sunday night I quietly sent my husband love and blessings for a safe and smooth transition back home / heaven.
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A little bit after 5 a.m. on Monday (the 49th day), I kept hearing Music in the Air . I knew it might be one of those nursery rhymes, but did not know what it was. (I did not grow up here, and knew very little about nursery rhymes.) I went to the bathroom. I walked to the family room to check on the cat. I heard my son snoring. I came back to the bedroom, and the music was still very much in the air.
Since I knew my son was deep in his sleep, I decided to hum the tune softly on my phone to find out what it was. I listened to the song on YouTube. I could not help but let out a "WOW!"
This old man, he played seven, he played knick-knack up in heaven . . . . .
this old man came rolling home.
Later, I heard my son seemed to be talking in his sleep. Then he woke up to use the bathroom, and went back to sleep.
In the morning, I talked to him about the music in the air. I said the song made sense because his father was truly going home / to heaven. I told him the 49 days tradition. My son said he dreamed about his father too! He saw his father rushed in. Son greeted him. However, his father seemed to be in such a hurry that he gave no response to his greeting. His father rushed toward the bedroom. Son followed behind, and asked, "Dad, what are you doing?" When Son was a few feet away from the bedroom, he saw sparkling blue light in the space in front of the closet door and his father's bed. The light faded, and his father had disappeared.
After hearing my son's dream, I realized the small space between my husband's bed and the closet might be an energy portal. Looking back, that was probably where his soul left his body the evening that he died. (I would write about it in another post.) I supposed my husband had to rush to the portal before the sun rose because it was the 49th day.
LIfe is an experience, and each experience is unique in its own way.
Love and Light,
Q of D
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