Rosada Hayes | Creative Alchemist

The quote, ‘in the midst of life we are in death’ seems poignant and relevant to me as I believe we are very close comrades in this multi-dimensional existence. We summon death to wander into our thoughts and consciousness, we, at times, obsess and feel consumed by its looming presence, of shadowy, mystical energy that lingers with patterns of fear or acceptance depending on where we are situated with it.

Some lives are inflicted by mortality each moment of life without consent or notice. Death consumed my father 53 years prior to his passing, and all 5 siblings and myself held, and were affected by his panic, anxiety, and dramatic feigning of his impending death as he clutched his heart at any given moment when tensions arose.

My mother passed 3 years before him at 91. She chose her timing to transition when she directed doctors to halt her interventions. She exited from many things, including her inability to produce white blood cells, but more than that she wanted to retire from all services in this world without exception to her husband.

I used to accommodate a sense of desolation and solitude when I contemplated death. I experienced a close friend dying when she was a young mother, her son being around 6 at the time. I felt desperate to help her get well, almost in denial of her imminent death. I made her broths and bought her organic produce as well as being her emotional support. She had a desperation to source ways to heal and explored avenues to connect with any form of spirituality to guide her path that appeared overwhelming and full of dread.

The night she passed I went to deliver her veggies and was greeted at the door by her partner who said my timing was perfect as she had just passed.

Her partner exclaimed she still had the cheeky sparkle in her eyes and wanted me to view her body. I saw her body still and empty, she had left the room. Similar to my mother’s body when my siblings and I looked into the cane basinet where she lay dressed in a new pair of pyjamas and a face full of makeup. The contrast was so shocking, it made us jump back and gasp in unison as we didn’t recognise this physical structure anymore.

 My friend visited me in my sleep the night of her passing and hung around above my head saying goodbye but also asking to take one of my children with her. I seem to recall not having a hugely emotional reaction, but calmly said, ‘it is not her time’, then my friend left. I spoke with a mutual friend the next day about my experience and she replied that she too had a visitation from her.

I have witnessed a few instances where I have felt the existence of a spirit and feel conclusively that we have only a thin veil between this life and the spirit realm.

I used to support an elder called Ellen, who became close and each time I would visit she would express frustration that ‘the bus hadn’t turned up to take her on her next journey’.

Her wish was granted when her relatives attempted to move her into an age care facility. Ellen being true to herself and independent minded had a fall the morning of her departure. Her move was to be a little further than the next suburb.

Her relatives informed me of her passing later that day and as I lay in bed in a darkened room nursing a migraine my eyes spontaneously opened and focused up high on the wall. To my surprise I saw a round ball of light with Ellen’s face beaming with the biggest smile imaginable.

My feelings about death have changed in recent years, especially after obsessively consuming hours of documentaries on near death experiences.

My belief is when we die, we are released from the material and physical binds but we are still connected to the people in our lives spiritually and eternally. Our soul family is on both sides to greet and teach us.

 When we enter the spirit home, I think it will be devoid of pain, suffering and judgement, it will be familiar. I believe we heal and are enveloped in love. I also believe we will experience unabbreviated knowledge and compassion for all species. I’m looking forward to reconnecting with my gypsy ancestors over a cup of tea when I leave.

—Rosada Hayes (2025)

Editor’s note: Rosada was born in the UK and her peripatetic childhood, which included a period of living on a bus and travelling across Canada and the States, created a sense of durability and adaption to change. This experience influenced her desire to create and undertake many different pursuits, whether it be with food and sustenance, concocting herbal creams and balms, writing, poetry, drawing, singing and composing her own pieces of music.

The Death Letter Project welcomes your comments and feedback. Please feel free to leave a comment on our Facebook page or alternatively submit a message below.