Return to Cherry Lane

Note:  I wrote the following first entry to The Grief Tool Box over a week ago, before submitting it.  Last night, I found a letter I had written 24 days after the death of our son.  My tone and attitude were quite different than that of the following message.  Back then I hated God… His “Plan” was godless and if it was a reflection of His/Her way of having some form of responsibility as a leader, He/She was not the type of god I cared to follow.  Obviously, I have come to the realization that this journey isn’t all about me…      

My wife and I lost our 31 year-old son, Patrick, in an auto accident on January 25, 2014.  I will never forget the moment Susan and I received the phone call:  That call ended our fairy tale life... Puff would no longer be visited on Cherry Lane; our Jackie Paper was dead.  Death had read us not just the last chapter, but the very last line.  Death was now in control of the land called Honalee. 

… or so he (Death) and we thought.

Now over two years later and on the prompting of one of my daughters, a strong-willed PsyD in child psychology (strong and smart like her mother…. thank God), I explored The Tool Box community.  She felt my first novel, Where The Birds Go When It Rains, would be a good spiritual journey for those who experienced a loss such as ours.  I wrote the novel when Patrick was a teenager.  Would its contents be as effective on me after his death?  Would the events and messages really be as meaningful and comforting in this land now called Living Hell?

What I have to share with you is much more than the contents of that tale.  Oh, you my bet that my proposed series of messages cannot be told without the events contained in that book.  But, the journey before the novel’s writing and the one since Patrick’s crossing over, I hope, will spark tales to be told by my readers:  I want to hear your stories of signs from your lost loved ones.

My bio will give you a flavor for the topics I plan to address in my writings – near death experiences, a meeting between a 15 month-old girl and a deceased uncle who she never met in life, signs, and possible archaeological evidence of a divine sighting.  Some of my topics and perspectives may be judged as “out there” if read by those who have not lost a loved one or not lived “long enough” as I call it.  But as I wrote to my daughter when I decided to become a contributor to The Grief Tool Box…         

“As I talk to people about death... the next world, as a "respected" Uber driver... as a former adviser to nurses... as an operations manager... I get equal quantities of incredible stories in return... As "Puff" has little to no meaning to a non-parent, Puff deepens in meaning after that helpless soul you've held and loved grows.... from little girl or boy to an adult.  So too those incredible stories becomes possible... to probable... to expected... and needed for coping.... faith.”

I will write weekly because my world, our world… my fairy tale world got turned upside down… in a puff.  I need to ensure Cherry Lane (the next realm), Jackie Paper (Patrick), and his dragon (that deep, boisterous laugh and creative soul) are still out there... somewhere, waiting for my return.

And, I especially look forward to hearing your stories.

Until the next time.

Jamie