Hope After Suicide

Wendy shares about a painful time in her life; the time her mother ended her own life. Wendy was only twelve and the oldest of five children.

It was an early morning on April 16, 1975, when Wally found his beloved 31 year-old wife, Linda, dead in a pool of her own blood. He screamed, then closed and locked the bathroom door behind him, trying to hide the scene from their young five children. Frantically pacing the floor, Wally asked his daughter, Wendy, to watch the kids and not to let anyone, under any conditions, open the bathroom door. While in his pajamas, Wally ran quickly to his Bishops house down the street to get help.

Shortly, after Wally and his Bishop returned, Marjean, the Bishop’s wife, swooped up the children to take them safely to her home. Wendy was just twelve years old. She was her mother’s right arm in taking care of her ten year-old brother, Cary, seven year-old sister, Marie, four year-old brother, Drew, and her baby sister, Annie, barely one year old.

Just six months earlier, Linda had suffered cardiac arrest and had been recovering from it ever since. At first, it was easy to infer that their mother died of a heart attack, certainly it was more humane to those who could not understand. But it wasn’t too long before one of the kids, the Police chief’s son, told Wendy what really happened. “She shot herself,” Brad said authoritatively, to which Wendy angrily countered, “No, she had a heart attack!” Then, Wendy went home to find out the painful truth.
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Together Again!

Rebecca shares her mother’s after-death-visit with her grandson, Kenny, just before he escorts her into the next world with him.

Rebecca writes:

Kenny and Grandma

Kenny and Grandma

Another instance that happened to me after Kenny’s passing:  My mom gave up her fight for life after Kenny passed. He was the first grandson born in our family and my mom and he were very, very close.  My mom had a liver transplant in 1995 and received a ‘new lease on life’ and was able to enjoy her grandchildren.  When Kenny passed, she gave up the fight to live. She could not understand how this beautiful boy, at 23, passed away and she was still on this Earth.  My mom was hospitalized for about 5 weeks prior to her passing. Two days before she passed, she started talking about Kenny visiting her in the hospital.  My mother was still lucid as she was reciting events that happened when my siblings and I were children – it wasn’t the medicine that had her seeing Kenny is my point.  The last day she spoke was the full day before her passing. When I got to the hospital, I went to her side and held her hand. She opened her eyes and looked right at me, “Rebecca, Kenny’s here, he’s over there standing by the wall, just smiling at me….I think he’s waiting for me.”  She passed away 12 hours later.

After my mom passed, I went to see a Medium. I was told that my mom’s spirit came through and wanted to ‘thank me for singing to her and telling her it was okay to go’ – both of which I did. The Medium explained to me where I was in the hospital room, what side I was standing on and repeated what I had told my mom.  I asked her if anyone was there to greet my mother when she crossed over. The Medium said, “Yes, there were two male spirits – her father and her grandson.” (The grandson would be Kenny)
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Higher-Self Communication

There are times in our lives when we want or need to talk to a particular person in order to complete something of importance, BUT, actually doing so… may seem too difficult for us, if even impossible. Reasons for this lack of communication may include:

  • Not knowing the person well enough, so approaching them could be awkward or even embarrassing.
  • We speak different languages.
  • We’ve lost contact, with no way of locating them.
  • This person may live too far away, and maybe, even so far away that they are no longer on this planet.
  • The person we want or need to speak to isn’t in a good position to be contacted by us, or… if we did contact them, perhaps they would refuse to speak to us, or hear our message.
  • Or maybe… it is even our own pride that prevents us from speaking with them.

But, it’s possible that this is the most difficult one of all…

  • It could be that the issues between the two are so sticky, that every attempt to sort things through leaves those involved with an attitude of defensiveness and frustration, causing both to walk away while throwing their arms up in the air in sheer resignation!

You may have experienced this before. Completely discouraged by the many attempts to communicate, but to no avail, and now… you’ve finally given up the thought and hope that this issue between the two of you, could ever be rectified.

But… whatever the circumstances are, it ends the same; you are left with the sense of the incompletion that continually hangs over your head, just begging to be resolved and put to rest.

More than likely, what you really wanted or needed to tell this person was something that you never got a chance to say; for example: to give an apology, to ask or accept forgiveness, to straighten something out, to make a request or to give them your love and/or blessings? Or maybe, you just wanted to be heard and were uncertain that you ever were in the past.
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Never Alone

With a full heart and exhausted body, I recently returned home from my ten-year anniversary trip to the Black Rock desert, where over 60,000 people from all over the world made their pilgrimage this year to be “welcomed home” to Black Rock City. Grateful was I because of the love, beauty and transformation I experienced there. Exhausted, because I didn’t want to close my eyes for one second, for fear I might have missed something completely amazing.

Burning Man… a dusty desert and magical land of radical self-expression, self-reliance and inclusiveness is where I sojourned for eight days of unbelievable adventure. Within this amazing city, the pouring out of love could be witnessed almost everywhere as fun-loving citizens contributed their time, talents, wisdom and creativity to the mix. The results? An experience of synchronistic magic, miracles and fun, where wide-eyed participants ventured off onto the playa with all the innocence of little children.
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Free from the Past!

With all our personal history behind us, sometimes it’s hard to believe that we are not our past. We feel it so completely; the same old thoughts, the same old emotions, and just like the rigidity of DNA programming, the same old relentless stories from the past dictating who we are or need to be. Now, this is not so much an issue if your past is informing you of how good and powerful you are. BUT, if the messages from the past are negative and destructive to your growth, development and happiness, then it’s time to cut the cords and be set free!
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The House by the Side of the Road

This poem represents the human experience, and in it, the varying cast of characters that share the stage of life with us. As fellow travelers crossing over to “stage right” or “stage left”, we assume that our roles have been permanently cast. With our character and lines already set, we have forgotten that we are only actors playing a part.

As actors following yesterday’s scripts, we could allow our negative opinions and left-over prejudices and attitudes to dictate how we will treat another. Or, with the continual conscious choice of love, kindness, tolerance and compassion, we could change the script of this world, thereby, making this stage a better place for life to play out.
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Waking from the Dream…

A Soul’s Perspective

(This poem came to a broken-hearted me, three months after Christian’s death. Showing me another perspective, it was a welcome gift of cheer, comfort and relief given to me from a higher aspect of myself)

I dreamed I was a body,
and you, a body too.
I dreamed bad things could happen,
both, to me and you.

I dreamed that there was sickness,
that death and loss were real.
I dreamed we could be separate,
Oh! … the pain that we could feel!
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Death’s Painful Sting

I wrote this poem in two stages. The first part is about the horrific emotions I felt, and the state of mind I was in, almost immediately. The beginnings of this poem emerged within a few weeks of Christian’s death, and for months, I felt the painful depths of each and every word I wrote.

It wasn’t until I was on the edge of life and death, or as I call it, “the living dead” that I could not hang on anymore. I begged my God to take me home. It was in God’s reply back to me that showed me a future, somewhere out there on that dark horizon. And even though, at the time, I wasn’t sure how I would emotionally arrive at it, I could, at least see where my journey was taking me. So, I wrote down the words of God. After doing so, I could see that God was making a promise to me, to hold on, in time I would be healed of the terrible grief I experienced, and even better; that a powerful transformation would occur in my life. Is all I had to do was to keep an open and loving heart, trust and follow the path and road signs (words) God laid out for me, in the second part of my poem.

By the end of it all, I could see through the illusion of death and that life just does what life does. It’s not personal. By the grace of God, I learned to have grace myself, and see that, although loss is very sad, there is no reason to fear separation from another; for in an infinite reality, we are, and always will be connected. We are infinite beings! It is just the illusion of separation of ourselves in this life, that confuses us so much.

                                 (For my Beloved Christian, who left this realm, March 31, 2010)

Death’s Painful Sting by Jade  

How cold and cruel is death’s painful sting,

As tears falls from swollen eyes.

Then tales of separation,

Begin to speak their lies.


They tell you that you’ve lost,

The one you love so much.

Forever to be gone,

Coldly taken by death’s touch.

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