Yesterday wasn’t the best of days. I reflected on my situation, as all of us do from time to time, and my thoughts drifted towards what I do here on the blog. It’s very tough, because every minute that I work on it is a reminder that Erik is dead. Over and over I think, ‘He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.’ Sure, he’s alive in a different way, but he’s not with me physically. Of course, every time I reflect on that fact, it brings my mind back to the events of that horrible day, the day he took his life. I go through the entire sequence: the call, the mad rush to get home, the race up the stairs, the smell of gunpowder, the graphic sights, the emergency crew zipping him up in a body bag and carrying him out, the sound of the crime cleanup crew ripping out his carpet, the sight of them carrying away the chair he was sitting in, and more. But this is my job now, one that I spend a small fortune on to continue. I am thankful, though, that I am able to communicate with Erik and that I have you as friends.

I do have a request for you guys. If any of you know a notable person that might give me a short endorsement for my upcoming book, email me. (emedhus@gmail.com) There’s a free copy in it for you!

Enough of that. Let’s hear the last part of the interview with Pavarotti. I found his description of his past life fascinating. 

Me: Okay. Do you feel like you accomplished what you set out to do here?

Luciano: I’m very happy with what I have done. I’m sure if I had stayed longer, I would have provided more help for more people.

Jamie: He’s very proud of what he’s done.

Me: I bet so. That’s a life that anybody should be proud of.

Luciano: Yes.

Me: What insights did you gain when you crossed over?

(Long pause)

Jamie (to Luciano): I bet if you slowed down a little bit I could repeat exactly what you say.

(Pause)

Jamie: You know he’s not that tall.

Me: He just looked larger than life.

Jamie: Okay. I just took him off topic. What were we talking about?

I repeat the question.

Luciano: You have a very good quality in your voice.

Me: Aww!

Luciano: I learned that Heaven and Earth are not that far apart in location and distance and in the care of the soul.

Me: What do you mean, “The care of the soul?”

Luciano: In both places, we need to take care of the soul. On Earth, we get caught up on taking care of the body when the true secret is—and I would like to tell everyone this—the secret to life is to care for the soul. Then, the body will be happy.

Me: Is that your ultimate message for humanity?

Luciano (with his hand on his chest): I would love for that to be. I think it’s the secret of life. When we pay attention to the soul, then we can get to the root of what love is. Love is different for every person, and when you find love, you find the meaning of life. But the secret of life is to care for the soul, first.

Me: Ah, Even your messages are very musical.

Luciano: Thank you.

Me: Can you share another life that most influenced your life as the one and only Pavarotti?

(Pause)

Jamie (to herself): What is that?

(Pause)

Jamie: That’s disturbing. He’s showing me an instant picture of… (To Luciano) Can you tell me the story as I explain the image? Can you talk about the image?

Luciano: I can talk about anything now.

Jamie: He’s a woman, blond hair, very thin. She’s probably in her 20s, younger woman. She’s living in the South of France. It’s very long ago, even before the migration of Christianity. I don’t know if that makes sense.

Me: I’m no history buff, but okay.

Jamie: What had happened in that life is the husband was killed, so the woman took on another mate. But this was not allowed, so she was seen as an adulteress and was not allowed to talk. There’s the leather piece that looks like it’s fashioned around the mouth and jaw to punish her. Of course, when that was on, she couldn’t eat, so she lost a lot of weight. When her punishment was served, she publically complained that there should have been no punishment, that love should be allowed. She stood up for herself in a time when you shouldn’t. You were supposed to just accept your penance and more on. Then they decided to sew her mouth shut. I see an image of her with very large stitches across her mouth, and her hands are tied so she couldn’t remove them. Anyone who tried to help her would be punished as well, so she died of starvation.

Me: Oh, how horrible.

Jamie: It was about not being able to speak for what was right for her in that lifetime that ached—that’s his word—his heart. It “ached” him.

Luciano: I would die a thousand times before having to experience that again.

Jamie (to Luciano): Oh my god. Is that why you are such a little lover right now?

Luciano: That, and having such a big voice.

Me: And not exactly emaciated.

Jamie: Oh my god. You’re right!

Luciano: I had my food. I love food!

Me: That explains your life as Pavarotti to a T!

Jamie: That’s wild.

Me: Erik, what about you? Do you have any questions for him?

Erik: When can I get on your calendar for coaching sessions?

Me: Yeah!

Erik: Not to learn how to sing! I want to learn the language of Love!

Jamie and I giggle.

Me: Luciano, can you pencil him in?

Luciano: Absolutely. We’re meeting afterwards.

Me: That’s so funny! Well, thank you, Luciano. I appreciate this.

Pavarotti makes a shallow bow.

Me: Thanks for coming to woo us.

Jamie: His hand is up, and when I say up, I mean just above his head like he’s addressing an audience of a million. He has to be very grand about it. “Thank you. Thank you!”

Jamie rattles off mumbo jumbo mimicking a string of Italian following the word, “Ciao.”

Erik and Luciano give each other a handshake, a pat on the shoulder and a demi-hug.

Jamie (chuckling): You know, that shoulder-to-shoulder hug?

Me: Demi-hug. Such a guy thing.

Erik: I don’t think I could have gotten my arms around him!

Jamie: Oh gosh, Erik! Whatever!