Death is not…THE END.

Last night I ran across notes hastily jotted during one of the many times in 2003 that Spirit whispered the common sense spirituality that culminated in my first book. Among the wisdom imparted during that time were four profound life principles that have reframed the way I look at life on Earth’s stage, and now form the foundation of my playful Drama Queen Workshop™ exercises:

The third Drama Queen principle, “Death is not THE END,” has been uppermost on my mind since hearing the news that Whitney Houston had left the stage. Most around me were focused on this tragic loss. Among them, my singer-songwriter daughter, who grew up worshiping Whitney and has set Whitney’s high musical standards as the bar she strives to reach.

What a thrill it was for Whitney to make a comeback appearance at the Grammys in 2009, the year Maiysha was nominated for best performance in her category. Now this. My child was almost inconsolable.

It was difficult enough to offer adequate comfort across the miles. (Maiysha has always loved to put her head in my lap while I stroke her forehead.) But it was even more difficult—actually, impossible to ignore this truth: Death of a mortal body is not THE END of an immortal soul. The soul who came here as Whitney is very much alive and undoubtedly well.

I’ve learned in the past that those who remain rarely want to hear this when a loved one exits Earth’s stage. Some are actually offended by the possibility that we are more than flesh, bones and blood.

We grieve deeply—not for the departed, but for ourselves because we can no longer be together physically. It matters not that the departed are closer, more accessible as Spirit than when they were weighted down by body costumes.

There’s so much evidence that death of a body is like removing a costume, as I’ve previously posted. I’ve personally witnessed it, as have millions of others. Who hasn’t had a “something told me to…” moment when there was no one else around?

Every Goodbye Ain’t Gone

Something in Whitney’s funeral program reminded me of an incident I recounted in my first book, “EARTH Is the MOTHER of All Drama Queens.” It happened the day my mother made her transition.

Sitting in a hair salon, I heard my mother whisper, “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

I was suddenly overwhelmed with grief. I was crying so hard, I couldn’t visit my mother in the hospital across the street, as planned. When I arrived home, there was a voicemail message that confirmed my suspicions.

At my mother’s visitation, her best friend walked up to me, stunned and a bit spooked. She said that her doorbell had rung the day Mother passed. When she went to the door, my mother was standing there. She just stood. She said nothing. Then she disappeared.

“She was wearing that suit!” Aunt Doris gasped, pointing to the casket.

My heart rose into my throat.

The day Mother made her transition, that gorgeous white suit was hanging in my closet. It was one of my favorites, but I rarely wore it. Days later, I thought it would be perfect for her on this occasion, so I took it to the funeral home.

What Aunt Doris was telling me was that before I’d even made the decision to bury Mother in my suit, she’d had already seen Mother wearing it!

Now we learn that Cissy Houston has a similar testimonial, which she shared in a letter to Whitney published in the funeral program:

“[God] came for you. But not without warning. For two months now I have been depressed, crying, lonesome and sad and not knowing why.

“On Saturday before I found out about your transition, my doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but there was no one there. It rang again and again, no one was there. I called the concierge to tell him someone was ringing my doorbell. He checked the camera and told me no one was there.

“You promised me you were coming to spend time with me after the Grammys. I believe the spirits allowed you to come after all.”

As Maiysha said after reading it, “This is the dream we wake up to everyday, but it’s still a dream.”

We thank you, Whitney, for stepping into the dream with us and blessing us with the full concerto that was your life. We delighted in the crescendos, were disappointed by the lows, and cheered for you to thrill us again.

We made your life about us: who we wanted you to be…for us. How excited you must be to step outside of the glare of Earth’s harsh and often painfully judgmental spotlight!

You deserve this time. Bask in the Loving Light of our Creator, Dearest Sister! We celebrate your new life; we love you and deeply cherish your eternal soul.

Join me March 29-31 at “The Gold Rush” spiritual conference for women!

Come hear Iyanla Vanzant, Susan Taylor and other dynamic speakers. On Friday, have some fun in my latest Drama Queen Workshop: “Have You Lost Your MINE?” It’s gonna be a blast! For more information, click here.