Some See What I Can’t

Kerry Arquette

End of life midwives may be present in that astonishing moment when a person actually inhales and exhales their last breath. The stillness that follows is indescribable. At that moment there are, I am told, those who can actually see the deceased's energy leave the body. I have never had that experience.

My former husband insists that after death there is nothing. No energy left to fly. No soul to move forward. He, a geophysicist, insists that if there was such a thing, scientists would be able to measure it with some sort of tool.

On the other hand, I have read books about those who commune with spirits of the dead. There are documentaries about it. I have several friends who consider it absolutely normal to see and hear dead people throughout their day. It doesn't faze them. Some, they consider friends.

In southwestern New York lies the town of Lily Dale, home to about 275. Since 1879 Lily Dale has been known as a town populated with spiritual mediums. Hundreds flock to the town every summer with the hope that the mediums can connect them with departed loved ones. Lily Dale's citizens even host workshops designed to teach others how to develop their sensitivities so they may, without the aid of a professional, sense, see, and communicate with the dead.

Those that visit Lily Dale and believe they have connected with a departed loved one find great comfort in knowing that their family member or friend is still a presence and is doing well. They hug close the knowing that they are still connected to the deceased and look forward to the time when they will all be reunited.

I cannot swing a trip to Lily Dale although I would love to in the future. How wonderful it would be to hear from my mother and little sister, should that be possible. In the meantime, I spend time meditating, opening myself up and listening. Sometimes I think that I hear a familiar voice speak in my ear and sense the presence of love.

I imagine what it would be like to see ghosts. I create art that brings that imagination to canvas. I'm including a few photos here. These pieces are made of thousands upon thousands of tiny pieces of ripped paper. As I work in my art studio, I think about those who say they witness the soul flying free of the body after death. Being privy to that must be like seeing a color that is only visible to angels.