The sun beat down on us. Summer clinics and riding. We were mesmerized with the antics of Mark Rashid and Jim Masterson, going back and forth entertaining and educating. Dust rose around us as and covered weathered leather chaps and jeans. The anticipation of this clinic was finally a reality and our energy high, light-hearted and hopeful when I received the phone call in the afternoon. "Amanda, your Mom has not gotten out of bed all day." I knew that things had changed, and a fear and unease overcame me.

Mom had been moved to an in-home care facility two blocks from my home. She was the only resident at the time, and I have immense faith in the care and companionship that Kay provided her. My sense of safety and calm were quickly escaping. I left clinic and drove directly to see Mom and assess the situation for myself. I walked into her room and laid eyes on her. My core knew that she had made a huge shift in her state of awareness. Having companioned many people as they transitioned in the last days of their lives as a soul midwife, the feel in the room was clear and instinct gnawed. Naomi, my mom, was beginning the process of her ascension and separating from this plane. Naomi, was previously and historically ambulatory, animated and agitated at times. Most days she walked and paced for up to 12 hours. The primary motor cortex no longer made connection to her limbs, and her ability to walk had ceased. Her color was pale, she did not want to eat or drink. Naomi spent time venturing behind the veil.

Battling Alzheimers

As a beautiful, South African raised woman, 73 years of age, she bore the resemblance of a gorgeous 55-year-old lady. Alzheimer's disease had begun to change her perception, cognition and emotionality, when she was in her late 50's. My mother, a fiercely proud and private woman, did not have voice and choice in her adult life.

Knowing that my dear mom was in her final days, I prayed and hoped for her to find her voice and strength to overcome those things that bound and tormented her. I visualized and summoned a herd of white horses to accompany and empower her as she detached from this world. I recall an image of a print I had on my dresser, a Susan Williams photo that spoke to me. My three brothers, and their families came to visit Mom and say their goodbyes. We spent beautiful moments in vigil for the woman who birthed and cared for us. This unfolding and letting go was in its firth week. I was beginning to memorize the words to all of her favorite songs. "It won't be easy, you'll think it strange, when I try to explain how I feel, that I still need your love after all that I've done."

I took my father to say goodbye to his wife of fifty years, on Friday morning, August 5th. Naomi was less responsive, her breathing interrupted, her body weak and laboring. The keeper of my heart, my new granddaughter, Nora, and her Mom were sitting on the couch across from the bed and my attention was on their loveliness. I turned my gaze to the bed and held my breath. I watched. Nothing. Moms breathing had ceased, and she presented with no movement in her chest or heartbeat. I walked over to assess her vitals with no response. My dear Mother had crossed over. I let out a cry, "Mamma."

There were two Hospice nurses in the kitchen at Walden Place. I asked for them to please come and assist us. One of the nurses entered the room and affirmed that Mom was dead. This is after she too checked for a pulse and respirations. She went to get her stethoscope and summon the other hospice nurse to call TOD. While checking Moms heart rate one last time, Naomi took a breath and looked at us. All present, were in awe of what we had been witness to. Naomi crossed over and spent about five minutes in the light, to return.

Journeying Back to this Plane

The question now was, what was left unresolved for my Mom. I did not understand, all of her children, and husband had visited and said adieu. I received a phone call from a friend, Megan Powers, a GEIR mentor /counselor and Shaman, checking in on Monday August 7th. She too had just lost her Father, and was offering her love and support. I hesitantly shared with her the story of Mom's dying and then resurfacing. Megan offered her guidance and came to visit Naomi. The following day, Megan spent several hours with Naomi alone and entered into a shamanic-soul journey, with her permission. At that time Mom was virtually not responsive in verbal communication, with stable vital signs.

Megan after working with Mom shared with us that Naomi's spirit guide immediately showed up in the form of a White Pegasus. Speechless, with goosebumps we listened intently. Naomi showed up to do her work and resolve the generational imprints of blame and shame, releasing the ties that burdened her. Naomi battled her demons and let go of the patterns and found her voice. That evening, some friends and I spent time with Mom as she rested. We drank wine as I shared the astounding details of her shamanic journey. I brought the picture of the white Pegasus to her room and placed it on the bedroom dresser intently facing her. At midnight I returned home as Kay promised that she would call if anything changed. I had confidence that naturally several physical unfolding's needed to occur for Mom to die. Her heart rate and respirations were far from one who is in their final hours.

At 3:40 am Kay called to tell me that she had gone to the bathroom, when she returned my precious Mom had died. The white Pegasus accompanied my Naomi and her herd on the breath of dawn, and they soared to the light of a distant star. I drove to Walden House. Climbing into bed with Mom, snuggled myself under the covers with the baby doll she held in arms. Was this really it? Yes, my Mamma had really left her earthly body. The room that once was filled with angelic guides was empty.

Realizing She Finally Let Go

My Mom was really gone. She let go. She let go on her 74th Birthday, almost at exactly the same time that she was born, in Cape Town in her grandparents' farmhouse. Full circle. Choice. Despite her cognitive disabilities, her soul maintained its intention and path. I stayed in the bed with her for hours soaking up every bit of her warmth and smell, taking every bit of her in. I chanted Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. We assisted in bathing, dressing, and accompanying Naomi to the Funeral Home's removal van hours later.

My husband asked if I wanted a ride home, but chose to walk. My legs were weighted, my breath slow, my limbs extended as the Banyan trees roots system, deep into the earth. I was present. I was peaceful. I was vulnerable. I was home. I questioned my mindset, as this was such an unusual state and physical and emotional feeling and response to losing my Mother.

Several months later in Mark’s Aibado class he offered a grounding exercise. With eyes closed we circled in different directions, bringing the circle inward more and more, then dropping our energy back to the center of the earth. Mark asked us to open our eyes and then walk when we were ready. This grounding exercise took me back to the day I walked home alone after my Mother had died. Overtaken with emotion, I shared the story and the brilliance of how I felt at that present moment after completing the exercise. Grounded, whole, present, profound peace. I was beginning to understand. The feeling that we seek to achieve in softness and connection with our horses was offered to me as my Mom shared the joy of her state of being in ascension. Her gift to me was to continue to seek out this space of joy and connection with myself and my horse. The perfect synchronicity of congruence, being and letting go that Mark described made sense.

My journey with horses is in the infancy stage. My husband suggests equine therapy after a brief trail ride the previous winter. Conflicted I was, the longing to hold presence with beautiful horses was undeniable, my fear palpable. In the unfolding I found Happy Dog Ranch, and eventually adopted one of the horses, a chestnut Arabian gelding, Sundancer. We spent a lot of time in Mt Crested Butte. There is a horse, Ghost, with whom I spent time trail riding. The connection and closeness I feel with him is uncanny a homecoming, if you will. We understood one another and bonded. When visiting in the winter, we would stop and see him in Almont where he wintered. I cried with joy when seeing him. I have photos of him in my home. He would visit in my waking and in my sleeping. This past September, we were celebrating our wedding anniversary and I scheduled a ride with Ghost. Ghost was for sale; the decision was made instantaneously to provide him a shelter with us. Ghost is now a part of our herd. Our earthly white Pegasus is home.

I am growing, evolving, and finding my true self in the presence of my equis partners. The depth and breadth of joy and peace that is found in the company of horses, when we listen deeply with intent and partnership. In gratitude with mindful breath we go and BE together. Naomi, you are felt on the breath of horses in the early morning frost. I feel you in the golden sunshine on bluebird sky days, I feel you in the changing of the leaves, I feel you as the crisp cold makes contact with my cheeks. You shared with me the greatest gift in your final days, I listened. I listened to you. In the silent stillness. I listened and felt the joy and connection and eternal. I strive daily to bring this same softness and relationship, with presence to my growing connectedness with Sundancer and Ghost Soul-Shine. Listen to the horse. Your heart will be filled with an expansive love and shared connected consciousness with the sentient horse.

This blog post was a gracious contribution made by Amanda Laramore, Sacred Passage End-of-Life Doula graduate of 2019.

Amanda’s passion for end-of-life care began with her work as a Funeral Director. She is a long time hospice volunteer and has completed certification with Dr. Alan Wolfelt with the Center for Loss and Life transition, in Death and Grief studies. She is also certified with Felicity Warner as a level 1 practitioner Soul Midwife; Level 2 Reiki certified.

Amanda envisions bringing death and nature together so that her friends can die at ease in the company of nature and animals, with all of the comforts of home. Imagine bathing in the moonlight of a barn with the soothing sound of horses breath holding sublime space with you as you enter your final days.

Amanda’s life is rich with her enduring relationships with family and friends, and her 5 dogs and 2 horses. She has an affinity for food, wine and music.

Have you been called to become a sacred passage end-of-life doula?