Sunday, 25 November 2018 20:49

A Visit From Quinton

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Whenever I have a procedure and am under an anesthetic, I wonder if Quinton will visit, no matter the procedure. I had my microfracture surgery on a knee in 2010, a couple of colonoscopies and recently a full shoulder replacement.  Each time, I go to sleep looking somebody in the eyes and each time I wake with no memory of a visit.

A full shoulder replacement is a major surgery and everybody told me recovery would basically be awful. Surgery lasted a little more than an hour after starting at 9:00 a.m. on Friday, November 2nd. I was in recovery a little after 10:00.  Kristine said she had just settled down in the waiting room when she was called back.  The recovery room was no big deal; I discovered that a nerve block is a really good thing as my whole left arm was numb, especially my fingers.  As the day progressed, and as I progressed, the IV was removed from my right wrist, I got up and went to the bathroom and did a lap down the hall to step up some practice stairs.  By the end of the day, I was deemed ready to go home.

The hospital, doctor and doctor’s team had communicated very well. Because of their forceful comments, I understood that I had to start my paid meds prior to the nerve block wearing off.  They provided some pretty graphic tales of men (only men), who felt so good that they waited too late to start the pain meds.  I have learned that the rules and directions actually do apply to me, so I obeyed.  We made it home and I started my pain management.  Pain management and ice where my friends for a couple of days.  My close relationship with ice ended up lasting much longer than two days.

Saturday morning, something wondrous happened. I sensed a presence on my left and recognized it was our son, Quinton. This time I spoke with him through my thoughts.  I told him that I recognize him dropping in from time to time through our grandson, Salvador Quinton.  And our son Quinton acknowledged it to be true.  This question I had for him as based upon a conversation Kristine and I had just a week prior and we both agreed that he does drop in but still, it was good for him to acknowledge it.

Since I was in a bit of a dialogue with my son and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity, I asked him about Heaven. I asked him what it was like.  I sent him images of our mountain paradise where he was raised, the Arizona home where we currently live and an image of Rocky Point to signify the beach, and asked him which he preferred. He explained that Heaven can be whatever we want it to be and indicated that he preferred his Heaven to be in the pine trees.  At that point, I questioned myself and began to wonder if I was imagining all of this.  In that moment I remembered that our connections to our loved ones can feel just like that, so subtle and gentle that it feels like our imagination at times, so I went with it.

The connection was weakening as I asked a combination question, asking what is next and am I done yet?  My best impression of the answer is, I am not done yet.  While I have always wanted to change the world by getting more to wake up, that isn’t my path or purpose.  When I look at my daughter and grandchildren, this is my remaining purpose.  To see how my presence allows them to heal and grow, is a gift beyond measure.  While I still have the addiction of wanting to accomplish more in the world, my family needs me.    As I watch them grow, as I see how they react to the Christ spark in me, I know I have arrived.

Namaste

Wednesday, 17 October 2018 21:41

I See Your Hand in This

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As the days pass into weeks, weeks into months and months into years, I watch. I learned over this past nearly fifty-four years that I don’t have to react. Rarely do I make comment or attempt to intercede in the midst of a meltdown or disagreement amongst them. The only thing I do very nearly all the time is show my love with hugs, kisses, high fives, pounds and spending quality time.  This is the proverbial second chance and I can’t help but think of you, son. 

As time passes, I see changes. They seem sudden, but they are not.  When I am home, often, all three of the grandkids want to be with me.  The boys, Salvador-Quinton and Santino-Edgar, follow-me upstairs to my office; I let them come with me.  Sometimes they endeavor to be wild men, but more often lately, they behave – more so than usual. They were with me in the office after church and breakfast this past Sunday.  We even had some meditation time, all three of us.  Cheyanne come up and didn’t hear any yelling or screaming, and came to check on us.  She was amazed.  What is this?  How strong the connection and I think of you son; a second chance.

Last night, there was more. Kristine and I were sitting in the office, going over my medical history relating to an upcoming procedure.  It was after 8:00 p.m. and was the boy’s bedtime when they came upstairs, Quinton first and Santino second.  Santino wanted help buttoning his pajama top and brushing his teeth before bed.  I gladly obliged.  Then Quinton, he wanted the same.  We did our high fives and pounds and off to bed they went without fuss. 

Not long after, the house was dark and I needed to go downstairs. Santino sensed me passing in the darkness and I heard him move.  I stopped in the blackness and gave him a hug and a kiss, and then I heard Chay-Lee who is in the same room.  She very quietly called to me.  I walked over in the dark.  When I stood over her crib I saw her standing up, so I bent over and gave her a kiss, then she lay back down without a fuss.  She just wanted a kiss goodnight, like the boys.  All too often our three grand-children create a whirlwind, so this night was different, but it is becoming the norm.

Son, maybe I am changing and growing just like your nephews and niece. The only thing that makes sense anymore is Family.

Love you,

Dad

PS – For those of you still following and if you now think “there is nobody for me to connect with”. Well, there is, but we can’t connect with them in an empty room, sitting in front of a monitor or TV. We have to get out and be with people, even if that is scary.  We were not made to sit in a room alone or try to get a human connection that we crave and desperately, via social media.

Thursday, 11 October 2018 19:58

That First Sign

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The man and his family had been through hell, the absolute worst for them. An accident had occurred that defied explanation.  The man’s wife had died and come back at the scene of the tragedy.  Their daughter stepped outside the vehicle to discover her Mom, Dad and brother laying in the dirt and bleeding.  She thought they all were gone.  Quinton did transition, at the scene.

The emotional and physical pain was only beginning. They were divided based upon their injuries, going separate ways, only to finally end up where they should be, together, six hours later.  X-rays, physical exams and treatment for a wide assortment of injuries began immediately.  Calls were made and loving support came.

The man, he looked strong; looking strong for his family, but how strong can any human be when a child transitions. He had tried to sleep twelve hours after the accident but when he closed his eyes, horrible images from the accident greeted him.  The images were vivid; he immediately decided staying awake was a better option.  The day passed, holding on, making calls – beginning the business of running from the pain and making busy.

Eighteen more hours pass. Family and friends were arriving, to wrap them in their loving embrace, figuratively and literally.  The man needed sleep.  It had been awake nearly two days.  His wife was sedated, his daughter was making calls – both Dad and daughter trying to hold on, but it was time to sleep.  A total of thirty hours had passed since his son had transitioned. 

Finally, as he lay in bed, in an empty room, he felt his body begin to relax. You know the feeling, the peace before the sleep, when sometimes you feel yourself begin to fade and if there is talking nearby it sounds like an echo chamber.  There were no voices as his body relaxed and no visions from the accident scene came.  Just before sleep wrapped the man in a warm and peaceful embrace, he had the oddest sensation.  As he lay there, in a bed, in an empty room, he felt somebody take his hand – his left hand.

My hand is being held, he pondered silently.  He felt his hand being held and it was not his imagination, but not yet did he know what was possible.  In that moment he did not know who was holding his hand, yet he knew his hand was being held.  A soft and gentle grip held his hand as he faded into a deep sleep while reaching for an explanation.  The best he could do in that moment was to marvel and postulate, “Well that must be the manifestation of all the prayers that resulted with my hand being held".  This was the only time he had this sensation.

It took time for the man to realize who was holding his hand. This realization didn’t come quick and certainly not in days, but more like weeks.  Whether it was three weeks, eight weeks or even longer matters not.  The epiphany came of its own accord.  The prayers were only getting started.  If it were the prayers that caused the sensation of his hand being held, it would have happened again he surmised.  There had to be another explanation and then it came to him like a ray of light.  Quinton, their son and brother, has the softest hands and not only he, but his wife and daughter would walk hand in hand with Quinton.  Quinton knew eventually, his Dad would figure it out and realize, it was him holding his hand in that empty room, to comfort him and demonstrate that he still is.

Here begins the gift of knowledge for the man.  The gift given to him by his son, Quinton.

Tuesday, 02 October 2018 20:21

Connections and Goosebumps

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Not long ago I was on my way to work. The commute is relatively short, but still takes thirty minutes due to so many people being on the road at the same time.  I am five months into a new job where I am tasked with being detail oriented and somewhat isolated from people.  This isn’t what I was made for, but it is a good paying job and actually provides me with the opportunity to master some spiritual lessons that I needed to work while not wiping me out, thereby leaving me some time and energy for other pursuits.  Still though, on this particular morning, I wasn’t feeling it.

As I drove east on Deer Valley Road, I was lost in my thoughts. Pulling up to a light, for some reason I looked to my left and saw a Mom driving and a girl was sitting in a car seat in the 2nd row of seats.  I couldn’t help myself, I smiled and waved.  She might have been six or maybe eight years old, and she lit up like a very bright light. Her smile was huge and her waving was so unbelievably enthusiastic that my smile grew and I waved a moment longer.  It was a magic moment that kept me smiling all the way in to the office.  This young lady brightened my day, the entire day.  And so it is when we connect; it is so simple, isn’t it?  As I reflected on that moment, I wondered if Quinton had dropped in to brighten my day.

A couple of weeks after that, I was at the Arizona School of Real Estate taking two days’ worth of continuing education classes for my Arizona Real Estate license. It felt good to be out of the office and to interact with others. The first day was a grind.  The first class of the day began at 8:00 a.m. and the third, and the final class for the day ended at 5:15 p.m.  The second and last day would be more of the same, but being the last day and knowing I would have completed my education requirements by the end of the day, I felt lighter, if you know what I mean.  As the first class neared the start time, I was walking to my seat and blurted out while standing at the front of the class, “what a beautiful day.”  A gentleman in the back agreed with me and added, “When you get my age, you are grateful for every morning.”  I replied, letting him know that I understood what he meant and proceeded to introduce him and everybody else in the class to Quinton while sharing a glimpse of what Quinton he showed me. All of this took a matter of seconds, and then I sat down.

During one of the breaks a gentleman came to me, wanting to discuss. If I remember correctly, he may have been a Veteran and was a firefighter.  I thanked him for his service and shared in more detail, Quinton’s visits and what it means when our loved ones visit from the other side.  He was grateful to hear and complimented me on my faith.  (Maybe this will be a subject of another blog someday.  I always marvel when people equate faith with what Quinton showed me – another time).  On the next break, another gentleman came to me, and he needed to talk as he said, “Please tell me more.”  His daughter had transitioned twenty-eight years prior, and he was still struggling with it.

Sharing, in the circumstance I described above is different in some way. I swear, in these moments I am just a conduit for a message that isn’t mine.  It is like I am tapped on the shoulder and told to share a divine message.  And so I did, I connected with him and shared with all awe, amazement and gratitude – Quinton’s visits; being tapped on the shoulder and guided to help, share, comfort and support another happens to all of us. The divine message of Q’s signs and that they showed me that he is alive and well on the other side coursed through my being. And then I said, this applies to your daughter too.  I felt that feeling I love and equate to being connected to the universe; I had goosebumps like I had never had before.  I looked down at my right arm.  Those goose bumps where larger than they had ever been and the hair on my arm stood straight up, totally perpendicular. I held my arm up and said, “See?”

His demeanor had changed, in that moment. The wheels were turning and maybe he was thinking differently about his daughter’s transition all those years prior.  An instructor walked by and caught part of our exchange and just said, “Goosebumps are good,” as he smiled and kept on walking.  Yes, goosebumps are good as they signal a connection to source and a connection to others.

These are the moments I live for and I encourage you to seek them as well. We are not made to walk the path alone; we are made to connect and share our respective journeys, the good and the bad.  But if you bump into me and give me any clue at all that you want to know more, be prepared to hear a divine message and maybe even get some goosebumps of your own.

Namaste.

Monday, 03 September 2018 21:16

Healing After the Transition of a Child

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There is no one path to healing, we know. The grieving process is one of the most painful struggles parents, siblings, cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends will endure.  Making it worse still, all of us grieve differently.  This point might be the hardest to endure because in that place of unimaginable pain, it is nearly impossible to understand how somebody could grieve differently than us.  Trust me, this is one constant – all of us grieve differently, (so don’t judge others for doing so).  And all of us heal differently too, if we allow ourselves to heal at all.

So many paths to healing, but I believe most of them point to attaining some sort of knowledge, some sort of understanding of what happened. More to the point, where is our son, where is our daughter now? We are desperate to know and that need comes from our minds and our souls.  It is here, if we are fortunate, we both seek and find the support we need, or it finds us.  Attempting to walk the path of grieving alone is the most difficult way.  While some can, I assert we are not made to go it alone.  In finding support, we share the pain and receive truths that we might not otherwise be exposed to.

For me, it was signs from Quinton that opened my eyes. Quinton’s signs opened wide a door to a deep understanding that he lives on in another level of existence.  Trust me when I say, I just don’t know how or why I was able to recognize his signs so quickly.  Granted, they were bold and powerful, but coming from a place of ignorance in these matters, I could have dismissed them as flights of fancy or imagination.  But I didn’t, somehow I knew in my soul what his signs meant.  Quinton granted me the most powerful gift, the Gift of Knowledge that he is alive and well.  I do all in my power to give you this very same gift.  Let’s talk about signs, let’s discuss them and learn how to recognize them.  This is why there are two books, Quinton’s Messages and Quinton’s Legacy.  This is why there are dozens, even hundreds of books that speak this simple truth.

After the signs, we were blessed to have contact with some truly gifted evidential mediums. Mediums like Rebecca Rosen, Suzanne Giesemann, Jaime Clark, Dave Campbell and Susanne Wilson.  The list goes on and on.  These mediums can communicate directly with our loved ones on the other side.  Such a gift they have, referred to as “gifts of spirit” in the New Testament.  Richard Ireland, in his book published by his son Mark titled, Your Psychic Potential describes “mediumship is a sacred office, the one original priesthood of God.”  This gift they have has to be interpreted via the physical bodies they have, which makes their gift and dedication to making the connections for us so sacred.  These mediums provide us with knowledge that our loved ones exist as they share messages from them, that there is no earthly way they could know.  These esteemed mediums while sharing the connections they make, the best of them try to teach us how to connect directly ourselves with our loved ones.  This direct connect is the most powerful and wonderful experience.  These mediums do not want us to rely too much on them or to need them.  From my perspective, there is nothing more heartbreaking than to see parents new to the path of grieving the transition of a child, attend a gallery reading and walk away bitterly disappointed.  This is the risk and candidly, why I talk so much about signs we all can and DO receive directly.

This quest for understand cannot be complete without God, after all, God makes the signs, the mediums and the fact that our loved ones are alive and well on the others side possible. I sought God my entire adult life, searching in multiple churches over the years only to find the Divine at the accident scene, in the aftermath.  And what a gift that is!  Talk of God can be so divisive, but God in inclusive; only the human is divisive and we should not project this divisiveness upon God. 

I found God at the accident scene and upon finally reading the Gospels, I felt as wrapped in a warm loving blanket. I found myself drawn to scripture such as John 13:34 – “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each another. Just as I have loved you, you should love one another.” Luke 6:31 – “Do to others as you would like them to do to you.” Matthew 7:1-2 – “Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. For you will be treated as you treat others.  The standard you use in judging is the standard by which you will be judged.”  I can go on.  For me, finding the red print (the words of Jesus) gave word and understanding to what I was feeling and experiencing, and most importantly (for me anyway) without the dogma.  Jesus says “it is only through me”… and too many create dogma around this and forget He showed us the way – It is through Love, Peace and Understanding.  As I grappled with Quinton’s transition, I found just what I needed in the red print – and so do others.

There are these paths or tools in grieving to be utilized together or separately. Like I said, each help us to understand “There is More” and that our kids are oh so very much alive and well across the veil, as we will be too when our spiritual growth and learning is completed – in this chapter.

Namaste and Blessing.

I wish you all the best and feel free to contact me if you have questions. Dialogue is good.  We are both teacher and student, each of us.