Channeling Erik

October10th

16 Comments

This is the continuation of Erik’s description of his death and the events that occurred in the moments that followed.

Erik: Then I felt pulled. It felt like I was being pulled from the back of my shoulders. Not pushed, but, it’s kind of what I would imagine water being moved up a straw would feel like.

(Pause)

Erik: It wasn’t like being abducted by aliens. You know like a UFO hovers over you and they like sssllrrrruuup (sucking sound), get sucked up. It wasn’t like that.

Jamie (laughing): Erik, you’re so creative! He’s showing me the motion of being pulled backwards.

Erik: It’s like being dragged out of the sea by your life jacket with one of those boat hooks. And the distance is about the same as from the water to the boat. It wasn’t very far. Maybe a few feet. It’s not like I went up, up, up into the sky.

Me: Uh huh.

Erik: I kinda expected that, though. But that didn’t happen. And it wasn’t like I got pulled into a different room. It’s like the room I was in began to change. It’s like when kids draw chalk on the sidewalk and then you take a hose to it or the rain comes and gently washes it away. It becomes a clean sidewalk again. The room I was in gently washed away, and I was in a different room.

Me: Hmm. But did you come back to see when I came upstairs and came into your room? Anything like that?

Erik: I know you were there. But really, that seems like 15 minutes after if happened.

Me: Okay. Yes, that’s exactly when I came up to your room. So you were pulled away by your shoulders, and the room gently washes away. So when do you see me and then the police?

Erik: Well, I saw it sorta from a different vantage point. It’s not like I was standing in the room.

Jamie: Erik, how do I explain what you’re showing me?

Erik: It’s not like I’m watching a TV. It’s not like I’m removed in that way. I was a part of it; I see myself in the room, but I’m not really part of that room at all anymore. It’s really hard to explain it in words, Mom.

Me: Like you were behind the veil?

Erik: Yeah, Sorta like that! You know how you can put a sheet over your body, but you can still see through it, but you’re pretending that nobody can see you?

Me: Oh, yeah!

Erik: That’s kinda how I viewed what took place.

Me: How did that scene make you feel? Was it difficult to watch?

Erik: At first I was a little confused why you were crying. I knew the police had to be there, but I really couldn’t have told you why. I just knew they had to be there. I knew it was right. But yeah, it was very painful for me to watch you break down like that. It was horrible, the most painful thing I’ve ever had to bear. I really didn’t think about how you would react. All I thought about was how I could get relief.

Me: Well, we called them, you know, the Hedwig Village Police. Maria told us she heard a gun shot so we turned the car around and drove like a bat out of hell back, and we called 911. (Explaining to Jamie): Since we live in a small village inside Houston and have our own police department, they came right away. In fact, they almost beat us there.

Jamie (giggling): He’s laughing that you called the village.

Erik: Once that was taken care of, I saw my body being zipped up. Then it was carried out, but I can’t really explain where it went after that.

Me: Well I guess at that point you didn’t follow it. You probably didn’t have much of an attachment to your body, an emotional attachment, I mean.

Erik: Yeah, none. It’s like you always told me when I was growing up that I wasn’t my body, that my soul was separate from it.

Me: Yeah.

Erik: Then, I remember the Light. It was really, really bright to look at, but there wasn’t any tunnel. No tunnel.

Me: Okay, so the tunnel was probably just the physiologic thing you were talking about before?

Erik: Yes.

Me: You probably died so instantly, that there was no period of slow oxygen deprivation to that part of the brain that causes the tunnel effect. Okay, so then after you saw the Light, what happened?

Erik: After I was pulled away, watched the scene, and then my body got carried away?

Me: Yeah.

Erik: Well, for a while I didn’t leave the house. I didn’t go out into the yard or anything. So that’s when I started to check on people I knew.

Me: Okay. Living people or deceased?

Erik: Oh, the living.

(Long pause)

Me: For exaaaammmple? Miiiilking the cow, miiiilking the cow! (Coaxing more information from his was like pulling teeth!)

Jamie: He’s showing me this image; it’s almost like going through a book.

Me: Oh, okay.

Jamie: you know, you flip one page, you see that person. You flip another page, you go see somebody else. He saw one of the friends. Male. A male friend that was close to him. Dark hair.

Me: Sean, Valentin, Jonathan?

Jamie: Does Valentin have a nickname?

Me: I don’t know. Frenchie, maybe? He was French. Anyway, he was the guy who hung out with Erik a lot during the last year of his life.  One activity they enjoyed together was target shooting at the gun range. Erik was too young to buy a gun, and we didn’t even know he had one. Apparently, he traded in some of his possessions and asked an acquaintance of Valentin’s to buy one for him. But if it hadn’t been the gun, it would have been something else: a rope, pills. Kim once told us that he might try to kill himself, but that there was nothing we could do to prevent it. Of course I took him to a therapist once a week, a psychiatrist once a week, I tried to get him to do past life regression, everything. We just didn’t want that prediction to come true. But, sadly, it did. Valentin was his best friend toward the end and made his life so full of love and friendship. Now, Sean is one of his lifelong friends. We’ve know him since grade school, and I homeschooled him along with Erik for many years. So, they were very close, too.

Jamie: No, he went to Valentin first. He didn’t check on Sean until later.

Erik: Then I went to see Popi.

Me: Yeah, Popi (my dad, Erik’s grandfather) told me you visited him, sat down in his lap and laid your head on his chest. That kind of freaked him out, because he’s a total atheist. He doesn’t believe in life after death at all.

Erik: Yeah, and it was sort alike going to the house next door.

Me: Wait, are you talking about my dad, Popi, or Pappa’s father in Norway?

Erik: Your dad. Popi.

Me: Well, I have to tell you, Erik, it really startled my dad. He called and said he was in shock and that he didn’t know what to think. I’m glad, because he’s almost 90 so…

Erik and Jamie laugh.

Erik: Then, I went to Norway to see Bestefar. Chilled with him a while.

Me: Okay, so then what?

Erik: Well, there was this really bright light that I didn’t really feel I could look at, cuz I’ve always been taught not to look at the sun since it might burn your eyes, you know?

Me: Yeah, sure.

Erik: But it didn’t burn at all. No tunnel, no upward and away motion. I was actually a little disappointed in that! (laughing) You know how when you come out of a movie theater after sitting in the dark and you come out into the bright-lit lobby? It takes a while to get use to it, to adjust. Your eyes adjust, and you begin to see you’re not alone.

Me: Uh huh.

Erik: And the odd thing is, I can’t tell you if I was inside or outside. It’s like I was just in a space.

Me; How did you get to the Light from Norway? Were you pulled there?

Erik: It’s weird. It’s like I just walked a few steps and got there. I just walked in the direction that I felt the pull was taking me. Let’s go back to the life jacket idea. It’s like I was being pulled and pulled toward and then into the boat, but while I was being pulled, I made those visits. I do all this stuff, and finally, by the time I’m done, I’m getting closer to the boat, and they pull me a few feet up into the Light and into the ALTERNATE DIMENSION. (He says this like Rod Serling would say “TWILIGHT ZONE” with an eerie and mysterious tone.)

Jamie: He’s laughing hard!

Jamie and I laugh.

Me (laughing): Making a joke about it, huh?

Erik: Of course that’s not what we call it when we’re here. You don’t even know what to call it! You just know you’re in the right place. That’s the only thing that matters, You know you’re in the right place. I knew I didn’t do anything wrong, that I was just in the right place.

Me: Good. So who did you see over there?

Erik: I remember seeing Aunt Denise first.

Me: Yeah, that’s what you said through Kim. So, uh, how did that conversation go?

Erik (chuckling): It’s so funny that you say conversation, because she had a mouthful for me!

Me: Oh, boy! I bet!

Erik: She went at me verbally. And frankly, I really felt like that was unfair, because she knew what was going on, and I didn’t!

(My younger sister, Denise, committed suicide in 2003 after a life ravaged by severely brittle Diabetes. She walked with a walker, was fed by J-Tube directly into the small intestine, wore diapers and had to be catheterized three times a day. When she had a small bowel obstruction, they gave her blood that was Hepatitis C positive. Her nephrologist told her that essentially she was a goner because they couldn’t treat the Hep C without her rejecting her new pancreas and kidney.)

Me: Yeah, because she killed herself too! Of course she was so debilitated by her disease so, no surprise there…

Erik: Yeah, but over a period of time, again and again and again she would come at me with “what happened?” and “what do I need to do?” and “who should I console?”

(I found this really funny, because our family took care of Denise; she lived with us. And she was such a busy body, always asking so many questions. We always used to tease her by saying, “Why say why; Try Bud Dry.” That used to make her laugh, plus it gave us all a short reprieve from the barrage of questions.)

Me: Yeah, Denise was a bit of a Buttinsky, but in a loving way.

Erik: But there were other people there, too. But no God on a throne. There were like six people there to greet me, uh, dressed in clothes.

Me (chuckling): Nothing Greek?

Erik (laughing): Yeah, nothing Greek.

Me: No toga party, then? Dang! I remember those when I went to Rice University!

Jamie laughs loudly.

Erik: That was good, Mom! That was good.

Me: Were they all departed loved ones of ours?

Erik: Yes, and there were some I knew that I knew, but it was kind of like when you have a dream where you know you know that person, but in consciousness you can’t identify them at all.

Me: Okay, wow, this is all so interesting. Well, I guess we should close now. But Erik, you know it’s your brother’s birthday today. Did you wake him up this morning or try to?

Erik: I tried to, but he sleeps like a log.

Me: That’s true! That’s true! Okay, well maybe you can give him a little surprise while he’s awake, then.

Erik: Yep.

Me: Give him some goosebumps like you do to me!

Erik (chuckling): I do have some tricks up my sleeve that I’m going to use throughout the day!

Me: Good!

Erik: A special day!

Me: Why do I always feel intense goosebumps more on my left side?

Erik: Your left side is more sensitive than your right.

Me: Oh, okay. Well, I love you Sweetie, and when I come over there, we’ve got some catching up to do! I’m going to prank you to no end, just like you do to Jason and Robert and me!

Jamie and Erik laugh.

Me: Well, I love you, Erik. I love you so, so much. I miss you. I miss you so, so much, Sweetie.

Erik: I love you more.

I find that very hard to believe.

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  • guitarlinda

    Thank you for all your communication. It is so important. I have a question about Denise, since she was so very sick, how would her death be considered a suicide at least as usually defined? We had a friend with horrid end stage MS who was helped with pills to pass over and another tragic situation with a guy still in his 40′s with ALS…ventilator, feeding tube etc who also finally decided to leave. Any light on the subject would be appreciated. It seems these terminal pain and suffering situations would be entirely different from someone who is just angry at his wife etc. Linda

    • http://drmedhus.com Elisa

      From what I understand, terminal illnesses, even those like Denise and Erik had, are not considered in the same light as someone who has a breakup with their girlfriend or who someone who loses a job. I suppose it’s a matter of semantics. When you think about it, we all commit suicide because we always choose our exit points. I guess one exception might be someone who deviates from his life plan and, with free will, kills someone who didn’t have that type of death at that point in time as part of his between lives blueprint.

  • BeFreeMyAngel

    This brings light to my question about man and the machines that can keep us alive. I posted on the forum, but there are so many of us who have to make that critical decision for a family member. To ventilate or to take of the ventilator. Just because we can do these things, should we? My daughter suffered seizures for hours and hours a day with no medication helping her besides sedating her, finally she got pnuemonia, collapsed lung, she was disabled, medically fragile and just one thing after another hit her. It was like watching her being tortured medically, feeding tube since she was two, constant suctioning and knowing she is aspirating, she could barely move and have any sort of quality life. I could have opted to do advanced care but I opted to let her go peacefully, I still wonder if I did the right thing, was there some sort of miracle around the corner that I didn’t hold out for, VNS surgery, Keto diet, these things could have been more torture for her or they could have helped. I will never know, my gut was telling me to let her go, so I did, but I have to wonder and pose the question, with all of these medical wonders, when is it that we are supposed to let go, when do we keep fighting, when and how do we know the answer. I can’t just be happy with I had a feeling, Im telling you the doctors all of us felt she was deteriorating and that the only thing the future held for her was more suffering and a slow painful death of her body shutting down. I believe God gave me one chance to get it right and he made her lung collapse and gave me the chance to have a DNR for her to go peacefully. There is a fine wavy line when it comes to this stuff and many feel guilt for a long time, Stanley so bravely posted on his friend DJ, I have to tell you Elisa his post gave me great comfort and it was so brave for Stanely to do what he did and to air it and put it our there. Bravo Stanely I know from personal experience it must have crushed you, I know it did me and continues to haunt me at times. Peace and Blessings. ♥

    • http://drmedhus.com Elisa

      I can just here Emily saying, “Thank you, Mommy.” It takes courage to end suffering, but it takes another ingredient too–Love. You expressed both.

  • Nancy

    Dear Elisa,

    I’ve realized that since I met Erik thanks to your courage and determination, I no longer have that horrible feeling that Santi was… I don’t know how to say it, maybe the word that describes it better is “unreachable” (it was more complex than that, difficult to explain in a few words). I smile when I go over Erik’s words and gestures many times more than once a day. Actually, he’s always in my thoughts. Oh! He’s brightened up my life, no doubt. Hopefully Santi knows it and is feeling better too. I’m forever grateful to both of you and to the psychics who translate/interpret these heavenly dialogues for us.

    Peace & Love,
    Nancy

    • http://drmedhus.com Elisa

      Aw, Erik and I are so happy to know you and Santi, Nancy. He is with you, loving you.

  • Nancy

    Dear Elisa,

    Just wanted to say I’m delighted to learn so much of what Erik shared with you is what NDErs report they experienced in the realm of the light while they were there. Thanks so much!

    P&L

    Nancy

  • Tiffany

    Elisa, I love these posts. They shed so much light. I wish they wouldn’t end. I am sure your book will be the same way :)

  • Nancy

    I was so concentrated on the dialogue that I didn’t see your reply :( Thank you.

  • Ingrid

    Wow!! Erik’s description of being “pulled” into something but not upwards, just something right there is exactly what happened to me when I had that out of body experience in the dream I had (I think I wrote you about it in another post). Then when I was sucked in, the intense whole-body vibration started happening and it freaked me out and I desperately pulled myself back to consciousness. Thank you for sharing, guys!! As always, your information provides so much comfort in just being reassured as to what happens to us and that we are only going to a BETTER place when our time here is done. Xo

  • Steve

    Elisa, this is all so fascinating. I know it must be hard on you. Thanks for sharing. Since I’ve gotten to know Erik and gotten familiar with your site it really has changed my feelings and belief about the afterlife–in a very positive way. I just wanted to thank you for that.

    Steve

    • http://drmedhus.com Elisa

      xoxo

  • Skoshi

    Well, Elisa, when you publish your book on this subject, it will probably be the only one on the market that contains humor! You might title it, “A Jokester’s Explanation of How Things REALLY Work!” LOL.

    A comment on machines that keep people alive: I wear a “do not resuscitate (DNR) bracelet” and carry a DNR signed by my cardiologist. I was president of a library board, and the library’s director wanted to buy an AED (defibrillator) to shock anyone who might die in the library. They are now required by law to be in a lot of public buildings. Many grocery store chains, etc. have them hanging on walls. I am NOT happy about it. I said to the director, if I die in the library, are you going to check my wrist for a DNR bracelet or my handbag for DNR instructions before you tear open my blouse in a public place and shock me? She had an “oops, I’m caught” look on her face. She said “yes” but I knew the truth was that they wouldn’t. I told her if the library got an AED, I’d never step foot in the library again; not for spite but out of fear. Another board member was there when she told me that she wanted $ to buy an AED, and the board member said her sister-in-law had died and had been dead apparently too long when EMTs brought her back, and she’s a mess. I say, “PLEASE; leave us alone; we’re in a better place; NO JOKE!”

    I found it really moving reading the first part of the information about Erik that he repeatedly said he felt peace, because when I saw the video of him singing (I guess it was recorded in a car because it’s taken from the side?), it seemed to me that he was in a LOT of emotional pain. I just felt real relief that he felt peace. Equanimity is something I work on by meditating. This world is a painful place. Unnecessarily so a lot of times, because of cruelty, unlike with Erik and Denise, because of illness. My best friend, Ina Jean, was a brittle diabetic from the age of 4. She died when she was in her 60s. She was a buttinsky too! LOL. But VERY big hearted. She used to say, “unlike other people, I know how I will die.” She meant, of course, complications from diabetes. Her mother had diabetes. Her mother had an infected toe that turned gangerous. Surgeons removed the toe, and it spread to her foot. They removed her foot and she had a stroke. It spread upward, and they removed her leg to her knee; she had another stroke and it spread further. My friend and her brother told doctors to just stop her insulin and let her go. That was a big deal for that day and time. It was practically a miracle that the doctors followed their instructions. It took courage on everyone’s part, and it was the right thing to do.

    • http://drmedhus.com Elisa

      That video of Erik always haunted me. Even when he was alive, watching it was very difficult, because I could feel the pain emanating from his soul. I felt he knew, at that point, that suicide was to be his eventual path.

      I hope one day doctors learn that death is a mere transition, like I think you said? Getting up from one chair and sitting in another. We can then dispense from the heroics. As a doctor, I was always acutely aware of when it was a person’s time to die. Sometimes, if family was having trouble making a decision on how heroic to be, I’d ask them, “Would you be more comfortable it I made that decision for you and did so from the perspective of my being his sister, mother, wife?” Many times, the family member would heave a huge sigh of relief and say “Yes, please!” Many times I’ve taken care of terminally ill patients and asked them if they wanted me to do whatever it took to relieve them of the excruciating pain, even if it might mean an early exit. While other docs where getting all uptight about morphine doses, I’d just tell the nurses to keep giving them the morphine until the patient is comfortable rather than focusing on the “appropriate dosing guidelines.” Wasn’t easy though. When we realize the true nature of death and the afterlife, maybe we can stop with the surgeries, pharmaceuticals, tests, etc and concentrating on things like energy healing or preparation for the transition.

  • http://channelingerik Pat

    Elisa, you are so right about heroic, life-saving measures. What drives all of this is simply fear–the fear of the unknown and the fear of loss. This, of course, is why what you are doing is so important. If we can take the stigma of fear away from death, then we could actually “live”.

  • Tracy Lamont

    Absolutely fascinating!
    Death holds no fear for me.
    I, like you, Elisa, look forward to the day I will walk into the waiting arms of my beautiful, happy, smiling boy.