Stairway to Heaven

My mother married the dark man two days after my seventh birthday. I left the only family I had ever known at my grandma's to go and live with my mom and her new husband. We moved into a one bedroom apartment above the garage of a friend of my stepfather's. I was terribly lonely and alone. I was use to the constant companionship of my aunt and uncle whom I considered to be my sister and brother. Grandma's house was always vibrant and full of noise from all of us kids.

Moving into my mother's house was like moving into the relationship with her new husband. They were more into their new relationship than they were into having me around as a family. My new stepfather's dark side began showing immediately. Within the first month my mother made some derogatory statement about his father and he punched her in the head. I was scared of him all the time, not only by his actions but by the darkness around him.

I didn't realize it then, but I was very traumatized by this change in my life. Because the apartment was a one bedroom, my parents would put me to bed in their room until they were ready for bed, they would then move me to the couch. While trying to fall asleep, I got into the habit of picking my nose and putting the buggers underneath the pillows. At the time I never considered my actions as strange. I simply enjoyed picking my nose. It was the heart of winter in Michigan and with playing outside and then coming inside with the heaters on created ripe territory for the making of a lot of buggers. I was really into it and never thought about the consequences of putting these buggers underneath the sleeping pillows. I was more into the digging for them than where they ended up which was secondary to how much fun I was having with their removal. Looking at it now, I'm sure it was some small neurotic release brought on from the trauma of the situation. Little did I know that the event of picking my nose would lead to the real first white-light experience I would have. This experience has stayed with me since it occurred, again more real than other memories from that time.

"Aspen" Oh, ouch, the voice is sharp and angry. My body tightens, I can't think. It is my mother's voice. "Aspen, have you been putting buggers underneath the pillow at night?" My body is tight as a rock. Everything stops. I am in trouble. I know I am in big trouble.

"Tell her no, tell her no," the scared part of me cries. The thinking part of me knows, that she knows, it is true. I have been picking my nose and putting the buggers underneath the pillow at night. There is no one else in the house I can blame this on. I can't blame it on my aunt or my uncle. I can't blame it on anyone, there are no other kid's around to blame it on this time, only me. She knows I have been doing it.

Time stands still as my mind ponders and thinks things over.

"Aspen, are you listening to me?" My mother is really angry. I feel like I am being torn in half. One part of me is afraid and trying to find someone else to blame this on. This blaming part prompting me, "tell her no, tell her no."

Another part is pressing me to just tell her the truth and say, "yes" I have been doing this." I feel as though am literally being torn in two.

"Yes, I did it..."  I finally blurt out. "Why, Aspen why?" She screams at me. "Use a tissue from now on..."

But I can't hear her any more. A loud buzzing is ringing in my ears, my body begins vibrating in this buzz, all I can hear or see or feel is this loud buzzing. With an incredible upward force I am catapulted right out the top of my head and end up hundreds of feet above the ground and into Love.

Love. All encompassing, all embracing Love.

The Presence is here, the wonderful, beautiful Presence is radiating. The Presence is Love and Love is the Presence. I am the Love, I am the Presence, and they are me. I am filled with such an all embracing acceptance by this Presence and filled with the radiance of its Love. I am home, at peace and accepted by this Love.

I am so overtaken by the sense of love that being hundreds of feet above the ground doesn't bother me; it doesn't even seem strange to be here. I laugh, and dance, and play, and sing. I think to myself how important it is to tell the truth even if it gets me in trouble. (Something in my teenage years I am destined to forget.)

I am up above the tree tops held by the magic of the Presence. I can see all around me from this high view. My body is far below still playing in the dirt, unaware that I am up here. I watch my body playing. I can tell it is still singing a song but I am so unattached to it. (I still find it interesting that my body had a consciousness of its own and could be playing and singing when I was not in it.)

Its winter and I notice how barren the trees look and how lonely they seem. I can see the tops of the trees below me. I can see far and wide from being up here, so so high. For me, I am once again filled with the wonder of full Love and peace. I can float and swish and tumble. I am safe from harm here in the radiance of the Presence doing things that seem natural and right. Time stands still. The life my body is living is removed from me. For a moment I am free, suspended in an all accepting Love.

I am up here above the world in this Love with my familiar friend, the radiant Presence, the Being Of Light. The Presence calls me higher and it's as if a magic hand lifts me up. I enter an opalescent flowing light. The landscape below me disappears; the physical world is nowhere to be seen and doesn't exist. As I move deeper into this flowing light I can see and feel other Presences', other Beings Of Light.

The buzzing is intense and it feels as if I will explode. Thoughts are in my head. I can hear hundreds of Beings communicating to me all at once and I understand them all too. Visions upon visions enter my mind, the dawning of humanity, what an important time we live in, I have a mission to carry out on earth, my time is short and I will get to come home soon, I will grow up and when the time is right I will remember much more than this. I can see mankind and bombs, terrible hunger and children dying. Oh, children dying. Hundreds of men are talking loudly over on another. Humanity is in trouble. The thoughts and images go on and on, all simultaneously. I am flooded with information that I am not to forget. I am loved and cradled in this information. I understand.

The Beings Of Light merge with me and fill me with their Presence. I am calm, deeply eased about my life on earth. I am to grow up and fulfill my mission and then I will return, I will return here in the light and take my place. Yes, I can do this. It is important. Yes, I understand my mission, my task and the importance of the time frame I live in. (Today I cannot consciously remember what my task or mission are. They seemed so clear to me when I was in the light. Even as a child, I understood so much more then than I do today).

My mother calls for me to come in. My physical body stands up on her command and the real me up here with the Beings Of Light withdrawals. I am once again up above the trees; I am magnetized, automatically pulled towards my body.

I float down from above the treetops back near my body. As I approach it, I can see this black, tarry goop oozing out from my chest and flowing away. I think to myself that the goop must be the black spots on my soul from all the lies I have told and now they are all coming off because I told the truth to my mother about the buggers and now my soul will be white. (We had been told in Catholic Sunday school, that you get black spots on your soul for every lie you told and that is how God could tell if you were bad. Some people were so bad that their souls were all black and those were the people who went to hell. I still don't know what that black goop was. It was bubbling out the center of my chest and disappearing. Maybe it was some sort of karma releasing from my soul. I have no better explanation for what it was).

My mother's call pulls me back into my body. I am a little reluctant to enter with the goo coming out of it but all of a sudden I am back in it. I am fully in my body and go upstairs to wash my hands for dinner. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

I don't ever remember telling my mother or anyone about this experience when it happened. I simply carried the sensations with me. Now it is still a warm memory filled with deep appreciation for a connection that could not be broken. If I focus deeply enough at any moment the memory becomes a loving sensation of connection. There seems to be no time. The Beings Of Light that smiled at me then are smiling at me now. They are the same Beings, it is the same smile, there is no then and now.

The Beings Of Light in the opalescent light have stayed with me since this experience. They are connected to my inner thought process. They exist one layer deeper than my own thoughts. I am able to deeply focus past my own thoughts and they are always there. I can sense their Presence simply by focusing deeper than my own thought process. I don't hear them, I sense them. They communicate, not through telepathy but through the sensation of all knowing. This type of communication is difficult to describe. So many others talk about telepathic communication but this is different. I am not aware of telepathy. I am filled with an all knowing presence. Most of the time this communication is a sensation of connection. There isn't any knowledge communicated, I am embraced in full union, oneness.

From that moment forward, I always sensed I had a purpose. In many ways I feel complete in my life today and am ready at anytime to return to the light. But I am still here and keep waking up in this body day after day. I remember they kept showing me how important this time frame was. This time frame seemed to have significant importance. I knew I would need to be grown and mature to be able to handle what was required of me. I knew what it was then but do not know what it is today. So I am still here, on earth, in body, seeking to fulfill my purpose with humanity just like everybody else.

Grandma

There were seven of us kids growing up at Grandma's house. I have been told that my mom had her own apartment when I was first born and that I lived with her then but I have no recollection of it. My earliest memories were of living at grandmas. My mother had me when she was eighteen. I had an aunt who was just a year older than me and an uncle a year younger. My grandmother's other children, my mother's brothers and sisters were all teenagers. It was a full noisy household. I have fond memories of living at grandma's house.

As far back as I can remember I was part of grandma's family. When I was three I remember my mother being very upset that I was calling Grandma Mommy like the rest of the kids in the house. I was confused by their fight but my mother won and I was told that I had to call grandma, grandma and not Mommy any more. My feelings were hurt and I could not understand at the time why I had to be different from everyone else but from that day on I followed this new rule.

My mother married when I was seven and I left the only family I had ever known to live with my mother and her new husband. Looking back I can see how traumatic this event was in my life. At the time, I closed down and went within to the Beings Of Light who had become my friends. As I withdrew more and more the inner realms consistently became part of my reality. It was a wonderful, natural place for me to be. It was also a familiar place for me when so much around me on the outside was new.

Within the first year of living with my mother, my grandfather died of a heart attack. I remember my mother being devastated. I was eight years old and knew what death was. I grieved my grandfather. He was a big round rolly polly of a man that ruled his household with a loving heart. We all listened when he spoke and we all did what he said. My mother and I never spoke about his death after I found out he had died. I was left to try to understand it on my own.

My new stepfather was strict and abusive. I was miserable. My only hope was to somehow escape and get back to my grandmother, maybe I could run away, or maybe my parents would just give me back. They didn't seem to like me much or want me around anyway. My mother was pregnant and they were going to have a baby of their own. I figured once the baby was born they would have a child of their own and I could move back in with my grandmother and my aunt and uncle.

My sister was born and then nine months another sister was born. My desire to get back to my grandmother's stayed with me constantly. I devised plans to run away. I tried to bring it up to my parent's but never really asked straight out to move back. I tried to drop hints here and there. I felt scared of my stepfather most of the time and was afraid to ask.

And then it happened. Three years after my mother married, two years after my grandfather died, one year after my second sister was born, my grandmother died. I was ten years old. My world came crashing down. There was no way out of this hell hole. I hated my stepfather, I didn't like my mother, and now my grandmother was dead. My prayer, my quest, the only thing I had to hold onto, was gone.

"Aspen, Cheech (my family nick name), wake up. Come on sweetie pie, wake up." "Grandma, what are you doing here?" I am filled with ecstasy, giggles bubbling all over. "Cheech, listen to me." She's serious and her voice is kind. "I am going away now. I think I can come to see you sometimes but I'm not certain." I am dazed, confused. "I have to go now, remember I will always Love you. Be a good girl for your mom. Everything's going to be okay." She disappears and my room is dark again.

The phone rings in the middle of the night. I know something is not right for the phone to ring this late. My mom screams and continues to howl. And I know, I just know. My stepfather comes into my room. He sits on the edge of my bed, I hate him. I can't even tolerate him being in my room and now he is sitting on my bed. I sit up and he tells me my grandmother has died. He's still talking to me, saying something, but I can't hear a word he's saying. He asks me if I'm okay. I tell him yes, I don't want his comfort or his words or even his presence in my room. He leaves and returns to my howling mother.

The pain in my chest is so intense; I have to gasp for air. I guess this is what a breaking heart feels like. The commotion in the house sounds like it is coming from the other end of a long tunnel. My chest is crying. The pain wells up and explodes out of my face. I don't make a sound. I don't want him to return. My body is shaking beyond my control. My face is wet and all squished up. My dream plan, my escape is over. I have nowhere to go. I am stuck here...in this house...with them...forever. The pain is too much to bear and I drift off to sleep.

But I'm not asleep, I'm awake.

I'm floating, in the love, the beautiful wonderful love that I've experienced before. The Angel Lady is stroking my hair and everything is alright. Way down the tunnel I can see my grandmother. I'm not allowed to talk to her, she's not supposing notice me, but I think she does any way. She is greeted by so many of our relatives. She is over joyed to see Edward, her eldest son. There are a lot of people here to see my grandmother. She is so happy. But my Angel Lady has me watch from a distance. I can watch what's going on but I cannot take part. My grandmother's presence smiles at me and fills me with her love. She is closer to me now than when she was alive and living in Mich. I am watching my grandmother and how happy she is, I drift off to sleep.

Waking in the morning I am filled with dread. My mother offers no comfort, no words of support. She hugs me, or rather has me hug her and continues to wail. They are making plans for us to fly to Mich. for the funeral. I am to watch after my two baby sisters while my parents make the arrangements. I am crushed trying to come to terms with being trapped. All my escape plans foibled. I can't make myself believe this. How will I ever get out of here?

I am more crushed by being trapped here with my mother and stepfather than I am about my grandmother's death. Grandmother was my only way out. She isn't really dead anyway. She went to go see Edward and be with my grandpa. But I have to be here with my mother and this terrible life. I want out. The Angel Lady told me I could not stay with my grandmother and that I have to stay here in my body with my new family. She didn't really say this to me, she communicated it through her embrace and I knew fully what she meant.

But why? Why can't I go with my grandma? She's the one who has always loved me; she'll take care of me. My mother has her two new children. She doesn't need me anymore. I was trying to find a way to tell my mother I wanted to go back to grandma's house. But now...now I am stuck here. Grandma's gone and told me I have to stay here with this family and my Angel Lady told me the same thing.

Each night the pain is unbearable. My chest aches, my body trembles and my face cries. Night after night I use the dark to deal with my grief, alone where no one can see, where no one will make fun of me. I don't want their hugs. I didn't want their hugs when things were okay, I definitely don't want them now in my pain. The nights are long and filled with aching. I feel so all alone. I want to go home to the light and the Being's of Light.

"Aspen, Aspen. Wake up sweetie pie." Grandma is in my room, stroking my hair. The Presence of the Angel Lady is here too. My pain lifts away. I am calm. Everything is calm. Life is calm. The room is filled with light blue fog. The pain is gone. (It never fully returned after that first visit.) What joy, my face is smiling, so is my heart. Grandma strokes my hair and comforts me. She doesn't say anything but I know. Everything is said without saying anything. I am filled with an embrace of encouragement; I know I can get through this. Everything's going to be alright.

With this experience, the pain in my body left and never fully returned to its devastating level. I stayed calm about grandma's death after that. I resolved myself to being stuck with the life with my parent's and get by the best that I could. For the next four years I was visited by my grandmother's presence at least ten more times. She always came to comfort me. The Presence of the Angel Lady was always with her when she came except for the last time. What I remember most was the calm and stillness of their Presence. My head would fill with a swirling light and I would hear a loud buzzing. The pain of my home life abated for a moment while I was deeply comforted. I loved being visited by my grandmother. There was nothing strange about it, it was completely natural.

A tunnel of swirling light appears in the space in my room. I can hear the buzzing in my head and body. I am not alarmed. I am excited and know something is going to happen. The buzzing turns into swirling light. The light in my head matches and blends with the swirling light in the room. A small figure about four inches tall walks towards me from the depth of the light. I know it is my grandma, it has her Presence, and she is radiating love.

"I am going away now. I have other things I need to do." She is so loving and kind. I deeply understand what she says to me. "I cannot come when you call any more. I am moving on. I won't come when you call." Her words speak to me with such full awareness. I know she is leaving to go do other things for her own growth, that she has stayed here for me and available as long as she could, but it is no longer in her best interest to be in this realm of existence. I know that she is leaving one place of being to go to another. She tells me that she is leaving both for herself and for me. She is both stern and loving with this message. She tells me I will be okay and that things will get better. I realize she will not be coming to comfort me anymore. I am happy for her and strong in myself. Her communication to me is filled with all knowing. I can tell she has changed in many ways and that she must go.

This last visit occurred when I was fourteen. I haven't had a visit from my grandma since. She is a beautiful memory now. A memory worth having. I sometimes wonder where she went and what she is up to.