Stars ... the golden cord of connection

The Pleiades

Earlier this week, during the first night of the 'ole moon cycle, our dear cousin passed from the body into spirit. Rosalind Mokihana was two years older than I, and between us we have shared the name Mokihana the name given to each first born girl in the family on my mother's side. In name and blood this dear cousin has been a sister to me, and to Pete he found a sister like no other. During the years of our relationship Mokihana has been an uncommon friend, loyal and supportive through the decades of navigating the human condition. As kids we lived in households as different as mountain and ocean ... As young adults I marvelled at her energy and zest to fill a day with a gazillion accomplishments including maintaining her classic Mustang. When I returned to the Islands after more than twenty years away, we began our spiritually bonded lives and I found a soul that could embrace beliefs that weren't easily expressed. Mokihana opened my heart to the teachings of Mu and the practices of spiritual consciousness.
She was a teacher and lived that life giving away everything she knew, everything she had. She served and loved do it. It was her purpose and her challenge. I think she lived her purpose through with characteristic zeal.

When Pete and I married in 2004 it was Mokihana who orchestrated our celebration insisting she could and did do it from a hospital bed. The night before our wedding a house full of cousins and three friends from the American continent prepared a celebration with makana (gifts) and mana (energy) that has sustained us in magical ways.

When we left O`ahu in 2008 we knew we would not see Mokihana again. The treatments the cancer in her body were more than she could transmute and while the chemicals weakened her, I believe there was a resolve of completion that increased in direct proportion to her physical limitations. The connection with Ke Akua the Creator became even more powerful, and then one day just weeks after Pete and I settled onto the Ledge in the Woods my cell phone rang. Now that is not probable, possible but not probable. There is no cell phone service on the Ledge. It was my cousin. She had a very important message to relay. "This is a cosmic connection cousin," I told her when I heard her voice at the other end of that contraption. "Well, it must be a clear channel just for this." She relayed the news that after ... what almost forty years? she had located and be in touch with her first born son ... a son she had given up for adaption at birth. The connection dropped as soon as she shared that news. It was just what I needed to know, and I was the only person she needed to tell.

Mokihana passed from the body on Monday evening Hawaiian Time around 9:40 PM. Pete and I were awake at that eary morning hour (three hours later) ... I heard a deep resonant ring in my left ear, a very different tone than the usual vibration ... "WoW," I told Pete what I heard and he got that something or someone was making connection. The next evening my brother called with the news that our cousin had passed into spirit. Via cellphone and via the clear Golden Cord of Love that connects us all I got the message

I'll love you forever.

Pete and I got up early Wednesday morning, our time 2:00 am and looked for the constellation of the Seven Sisters, The Pleiades. It is the place that is home for Mokihana. It is the place from which her seed was born. Over the tops of the second generation of firs that live near the Big House overlooking the Lake, I spotted the light of the Sisters. From the porch of the Vardo I waved and said to Mokihana, "Yes, I'll love you forever." Pete had laid the old wool poncho onto the sloping ground near the gardens. From that spot we celebrated our cousin, bathed in stardust we opened to the life of a grand lady. Shooting stars and stars still blazing in place lit us as we celebrated life. Just before we finally rose to go back into the Vardo, one final star shot across the top of The Pleiades. In deed, she is home ... Mokihana what a fine life you shared.

Onto the comfort of the futon we went after perhaps an hour on the sloped ground. As if I needed just one more assurance that the lines would always be open, my left ear rang loud and this time a clear high pitch. She was calling again, "Home ... safe at home."