Understanding Death. Death Comes as the End? Or Is It All in the Eye Of The Observer? Part 3 – Kaiti
Shortly after we arrived to live in Cyprus, I felt an inner call to baptise into the Greek Orthodox faith. No-one in my family could understand why, we aren’t particularly religious, my mother is Buddhist, my father a non-practising Methodist and both my husband and son are Church of England. My father had left my brother and I free to choose, and in the past we had both never bothered. It just wasn’t a part of our lives and to be honest, I find religion to be more trouble than it’s worth. At the time, though, I just followed my inner calling, it was only later that I was told by Spirit that it was a part of a massive karmic resolution with the family who embraced me into the faith and their lives.
My godmother was a lovely lady from Peyia village where I live, and out of all the people who offered their mothers for my baptism, I chose her not only because it felt so right, because she was so authentic and unpretentious. Her daughter Kaiti (left) ultimately became like a sister to me, very important in Cyprus where at times I have felt very isolated because of the work I was anchoring. She subsequently became godmother to my daughter, Gabriella, which meant that mother and daughter became godmothers to mother and daughter, itself very symbolic in terms of the situation.
For several years around the same month, Kaiti had been hospitalised with lung infections. Each time I would go to the hospital every day to see her and to give her healing, and I always told her that there was an energetic shadow on her lung, which needed us to work on substantially rather than her putting all her faith in the doctors. “It’ll develop if you don’t,” I used to warn but she never really believed me.
One day, I got a phone call from her husband Andreas. “Anna,” he said. “I have a medical report here. What does… mean” and he said a few Latin words, one of which was “carcinoma”. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I couldn’t tell him what I knew that word meant. He needed to hear it from the doctors who would at the same time give him the prognosis and outline the medical protocol to deal with it. I would write the healing protocol to work in association with this, but knowing their cultural consideration, the medical had to come first.
He rang me later very upset that Kaiti had been diagnosed with advanced stage of a rare type of lung cancer. And so began the journey to support her through the various chemotherapies and other medical treatments that would subsequently come to ravage her body.
It was a journey of about 4 months, during which we agreed that she as she needed to undergo the medial part of it, we would use herbs and healing to keep the body strong and when the cancer had gone, we would then work to strengthen the body for a full life ahead. It was a long shot – she was late-stage, but I knew from experience that this was the only way in a culture that was so dependent on medicine and did not accept that fasting and other treatments are equally effective, with less stress upon the physical body. I knew too from my own experience with breast cancer that it is imperative in all cases to keep the emotions strong. That’s 95% of the journey.
It was a race both against time and against cultural restrictions as I could not get Kaiti to keep to the protocol I had prepared for her, so dependent was she on the chemotherapy as her life-saver. She waited for me to go to her every day so she would feel better, to her I was the lifeline between life and death and there were many instances when I would get angry that she hadn’t done any of the things for herself that I had laid out as her part in her own healing. It’s only when people take their share of responsibility that the healing becomes permanent, otherwise the energy leaks. And I’m not in the business of fixing anyone.
It was a little difficult but anyway, we soldiered on best we could even though at times I would sit and cry at how much faith they had in the medication that was making her so ill, and so little in the simple herbal preparations I asked her to prepare for herself to supplement her energetic healing.
Eventually, I had a sense that she was at a crossroads. Either she would turn around and live, or she would have enough, and die. I was a bit concerned too because the family had so much faith in me to help her, and it was so difficult for me to get her to help herself.
I was about to leave for the UK, and before I left I went to see her. I knew that for a week I was not going to be able to go to her every day, and she needed to start doing things for herself otherwise the whole structure we had set up would collapse. It was already fragile.
“Look, Kaiti,” I said to her. “You really have to start doing things for yourself. I can’t prop you up all the time and it’s not appropriate. Healing is a co-operation,” I pleaded. Her response was to tell me that some colleagues in her office had left her out of a coffee morning, her conversation along the same theme that had been her focus for months before she was diagnosed and it seemed to her now that she and her illness were no longer the centre of attention it had been for the past few months and she would again be on the outside of those circles that mattered most to her.
My heart sank. I knew that her emotional body would now start crashing, along with this would go the immune system which meant her physical body would be badly affected. When this happens then there is no chance of recovery. I felt very bad as I said goodbye and I heard later from her husband that she felt bad too because she thought I didn’t care any more.
The next evening, in London, I received a phone call from her husband Andreas. “Is everything all right?” I asked straight away.
“I’m afraid not,” he answered. “Kaiti dropped dead a few minutes ago.”
To cut a long story short, I was unable to return to Cyprus for the funeral. “Your energy was all over the church,” my friend Effie told me later. She had gone with my husband to support Gabriella. “So I knew you were there anyway.”
Because I was not able to attend, I decided to go into meditation just before the funeral started to connect with Kaiti as I missed her so much. Because I was emotionally involved, I asked a friend in Australia who also knew her to hold the energy with me as I went in to help me stay objective.
Immediately, I saw Kaiti lying upright as if in an upright bier. Her auburn hair was much longer and wavier than in it was in life, she was taller and looked different but I knew it was her. She was naked and her hair was full of flowers, her eyes were closed and she took no notice of me. I was just the observer.
At the time the funeral started (I sensed), I saw her open her eyes, turn and walk to my right. She still took no notice of me, as she walked only once turning to smile at me. Behind her was a tall hedge and she walked purposefully to a high, ornate wrought-iron gate guarded by two Roman Catholic nuns.
I’ll always remember how strange I thought it was to have these Roman Catholic nuns there as Kaiti was Greek Orthodox. I forget now which type they were – I was told at the time – later, though when I looked it up, I understood the symbology. Pity I didn’t write it down at the time (too much going on…..).
Anyway, she turned and smiled at me again in a final farewell and went through the gate. I went to go after her but the nuns stood in my way, I understood energetically, as with my father’s journey, that I could not proceed beyond a certain point as I am still in body. They locked the gate from the inside and I watched them walk away.
A few days later, I went back in again as I missed her so much. I started from the same place where I had seen her lying upright, but it was empty (of course). The hedges looked unkempt, as if no-one had been there for a very long time. As I retraced our steps, the path was old and full of leaves, and when I got to the gate, they looked rusty and the whole thing looked tired, old and were padlocked shut.
I never went back there again in any meditation. Instead, I used to go and speak to her at the village cemetery – you can do this as a sort of telepathic conversation which you do when you know how to tune in. During one visit she told me I had to get Gabriella out of Cyprus. “I can’t,” I said, meaning “I won’t”. I had expected another two years with her at home. “You need to do so, the island will suffocate her if she stays” she said quietly to me. I balked. No. Three months later Gabriella herself announced that she would do her A-levels at boarding school in the UK. Spirit had spoken to her direct, she knew she had to go and she did.
Next – I speak with her widower Andreas.