Person to person and man to man, I’m back in touch with my long lost friend.
Listen to reason and understand and think of me from way back when.
He said, me and Melissa, well we fell out of love. We ran out of luck seems like lightning struck.
I’ve been thinking of leaving, but I can’t raise a buck,
James, I’m wondering could I borrow your truck?
I said that’s why I’m here. Got no other reason,
that’s why I’m standing before you, that’s why I’m here.- James Taylor- That’s Why I’m Here
I’m pretty sure I’ve quoted this song before because of all of James Taylor’s favorite songs of mine, this may be my most favorite. Today I get my first message through the contact form on my blog. I haven’t been given permission to share it. So, I’m going to change some of the identifying details. I want to share it not to pat myself on the back. I do what I do only because I believe that’s why I’m here. Fish swim because they were born to swim. They don’t expect any thanks or praise. This is what I was born to do.
I love getting this though. Is it ego? Is it validation that what I’m doing is indeed reaching someone, helping in some way? Maybe it’s just because I’m human.
I have to tell you that I came upon your blog through Helping Parents Heal, and I want you to know how very important your work is to me, a bereaved parent of 9 years! I thank you so much for your service to HPH, and for hosting most of the programs! I don’t often make the live presentations, but I do watch some of the replays, and I find such inspiration and upliftment there!
Your daughter Shayna is so beautiful…..I was totally struck by those amazing big eyes in the picture of her on your blog! I am so sorry for the pain that her passing has brought to your heart and Tywana’s. The suddenness of her passing must have been a jolt that left you breathless! I also have two girls, and my younger daughter Sophia died at 36 years old of leukemia, but I am sure I felt that same jolt when she was diagnosed. She only lived for several more months, but it gave us time to say all the things that needed to be said, and to love each other so profoundly that it still amazes me! There are gifts in every experience in life, including the passing of our beloved children!
I was especially taken with your recent blog post about your experiences with church! They mirror my own experiences in many ways! I am an MDiv. seminary graduate, and was ordained in the Methodist church. My background was Presbyterian, and fairly liberal, as opposed to your more fundamentalist upbringing, but my journey through the years has been similar…..including stops in the UCC church, Science of Mind and Unity! Now I just don’t attend church anymore at all….especially since Sophia passed. It just doesn’t hold any meaning for me anymore! Spirituality is hard to find in church, and that is what I search for in all that I do! My focus is on growing my soul while I am in a body, and being able to evolve so that my next adventure on Planet Earth (if I choose to come back here) or wherever my spiritual journey takes me after this earthly life is done, will be more advanced and fruitful!
Many thanks to you and Tywana and Helping Parents Heal for bringing such Light into the world of bereaved parenthood! I know the journey for you is still difficult, as it will always be for all of us until we are reunited on the other side with our beloved ones, but your honesty, the expression of your ideas and perspectives, and your commitment to expanding the views of the afterlife for more and more bereaved parents is beyond commendable and most appreciated! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Many Blessings to you and your family!
I’ve read this email over and over. I’ve been struggling more than usual in the last week or so. I have no idea what direction to turn in. The email came at just the right time. Thank you so much!
p.s.- this morning on my walk I was listening to a podcast. The woman being interviewed lost a grandchild suddenly and a daughter to murder. She was in a meeting sharing her story with other parents. After the meeting one of the other parents came up to her. That mother had shared how her daughter died of AIDS, a long, slow decline. The interview subject was grateful that her daughter’s death was quick with no suffering and no prolonged grief before the passing and was thinking she couldn’t imagine enduring that. The other mother took her by the hand and said: “I can’t imagine the pain of the sudden passing of your child being murdered.” I guess we all try to make the best of the sucky circumstances we’ve been handed.