This post was started a couple of days ago as a tender musing around Wednesday evening’s passing of my dear friend’s 42 year old son. Out in the field, watering his beloved drought-stressed trees with his father, Kalvin was stung by a bee or wasp. Known to be very allergic, Kalvin hopped in the truck and took off to the house to get his epi pen. He made it to the house, and he used his pen, but it was too late. His father, having had to walk in from the field, found Kalvin unconscious on the kitchen floor. They tried to revive him, but he was pronounced dead at the hospital.
Wednesday, at 10:35 PM, Kalvin’s mom had sent me a text message with three life-altering words: Kalvin is dead.
Driving from Kalamazoo to St. Joseph early Thursday morning to be with Linda, I listened to the talk I had given at Unity on the Lakeshore October 25, 2015—the morning after our family had completed the family-run estate sale for my mother-in-law, who had passed just three weeks earlier. The title of that talk was “Celebrations of Life.”
As the mile markers counted down from 72 to 27, I had a felt sense an expanded theology was stabilizing in my broken heart and my swirling mind. I had a sense, just as Linda would never be the same, nor would I.
Saturday, a wonderful friend, who often receives sacred messages from those in spirit, sent this message from Kalvin, to his mom:
Hi Debra – Would you pass on a message to Linda, if you think it’s appropriate. Kalvin wants her to know that he made it “Home” safely and she can stop worrying. He would also like to thank the large contingent of loved ones that bid him “Bon Voyage” and to let everyone know there was an even bigger group waiting to welcome him Home. “It was quite the party.”
He says that he is so grateful having Linda watch over him all these years and now it is HIS turn to watch over her and the rest of the family. Please let Linda know that even when it appeared that he was in pain, he was able to” remove himself” from it.
He would have her know that he had a great time while he was “here” and he wouldn’t change even one experience including his method of transition. He would also have her know that he is no more than a “whisper” away and to be on the lookout for him. She will “know” when he is around.
He is very insistent that I get this out right away. As a matter of fact. I had to stop in the middle of cleaning the garage so he would leave me alone. He’s a bit pushy when he wants something done………just kidding………….Love & Peace, Mike
Linda’s response to my having sent Mike’s words to her was significant, “Oh Debra. Thank Mike for me. I heard Kalvin say ‘I love you Mom’ already.” I may need to remind her of this truth again. I will remember…
Sunday, the church was filled with co-workers, neighbors, friends and family, and Wiley—Kalvin’s faithful four-legged companion. Love poured out from the eyes of many. Pastor David Stout gave everyone permission to cry, and he asked us to be faithful in providing ongoing care for one another. I will remember… He said we wont get over the passing of Kalvin, but we will get through it.
At the service, Linda’s dear friend, Kathy Zerler, shared this poignant guided meditation she wrote as a tribute to Kalvin.
A Guided Meditation for Kalvin K. Higbee
You are invited to settle in for a moment of meditation in Kalvin’s honor and memory…please close your eyes and relax, as you listen…
Imagine that you are walking in Higbee’s orchards, the trees are heavy with fruit and so fragrant that you slow down and stop to inhale the sweetness of fresh peaches. Nearby, plowed fields are ripe with cantaloupes and watermelons.
It is a warm summer day in Millburg. Sunflowers are blooming next to cockscomb in Kalvin’s flower garden. The contrast of yellow and black sunflowers bring to mind Vincent Van Gogh’s painting of sunflowers, at once reclusive and joyful, impressionistic, lasting forever in your mind. The soft magentas and reds of the cockscomb give you pause, and you stop again to admire Mother Nature’s magnificent color palette that Kalvin crafted into a lasting legacy of growth and renewal. You feel the warmth of sun on your face as you appreciate the delicate efforts that Kalvin made in planting and nurturing God’s perfect flowers, knowing that they worked together with angels to make Higbee Farm a place of blessings and everlasting peace.
Beyond the orchards and fields you gaze at the sky; it is limitless, one with the soil, part of our earth. There is no end to the sky and the soil. Like the generations of farmers before him, Kalvin was drawn to this. He spent endless days caring for fruits, flowers and vegetables that give us sustenance. Kalvin planted, fertilized, watched and waited for sweet corn knee high by the fourth of July, sweet and hot peppers, Brussels sprouts, kohlrabi, bountiful beans and squashes. Imagine Kalvin walking barefoot in the warm troughs between the rows, see him now enjoying the gently swaying flowers, the fruits and vegetables thriving under his care. Farming is a generous gift, one that Kalvin delighted in sharing with his family and friends.
You feel grateful for having Kalvin in your life. You open your mind now to what this day may give you. The many gifts that Kalvin gave you are in your heart now and forever. If only for a moment, all of your sadness is washed away. You do not chase after your sadness, but allow your grief to come and to go as long as you need it; you understand that Kalvin’s ending on our earth is a new beginning for him, and for you.
In Kalvin’s honor and memory, you decide to live like a flower. You make a conscious decision to be colorful, to smell good, to stretch toward the light, to hydrate yourself, to allow yourself to go dormant once in a while, to open your petals in the morning and to wrap your leaves around you at night. You are as necessary as every flower; and when you grow together with others, your world becomes a garden. Please say a silent prayer for Kalvin K. Higbee.
Kathy Zerler August 14, 2016
Sunday morning, I opened my email and read this powerful message from Aaron, channeled through Barbara Brodsky:
Your loved one is not dead,
he has only left his human form.
He is now expressing himself through you,
through your growing open heart that can allow itself the experience of grief
and allow that grief to become a catalyst for compassion.
He is expressing himself through you in all the ways he spoke to you in your life,
the joys and the sorrows.
He is expressing himself through every human that he touched in this lifetime.
And he is in the soil and the stars and the rain and the sun.
You cannot lose him.
~ Aaron
Yes, our lives are deeply affected by the passing of Kalvin from this world to the next, and our lives are deeply affected by knowing that he is in the soil and the stars and the rain and the sun. You cannot lose him. RIP Kalvin Kenneth Higbee. I will remember…
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