Wednesday, 02 January 2019 07:06

Our Power and Our Responsibility

I don’t remember being fixated with trees during the first twelve years of my life, living in New Jersey, maybe because there were trees everywhere. Big deciduous tree forests that grew fast and dropped a lot of beautifully colored leaves in the fall; trees were just there and I probably took them for granted.  That changed when we moved to Colorado.

I had just turned twelve years old when we moved. We had visited the year prior while on vacation and I was captivated by the Rocky Mountains.  When we moved a year later, we settled in Conifer at about 8,300 hundred feet above sea level.  Our two acres had been part of a pea farm, or so we were told, so we had zero trees on the lot or pretty much in the immediate community.  After growing up with trees everywhere, the entire family found this odd, but for some reason it especially irked me.

Through the turmoil called my family, in those seemingly rare moments of tranquility, at times we would come together, once to plant couple of trees. However, the growing season at 8,000 feet plus above sea level in Colorado was considerably shorter that at sea level in New Jersey.  Most of the trees we planted lived, but they grew incredibly slow.  I watched and watered them, and checked them constantly. By the time I was gone, the trees while still alive, they hadn’t grown much at all, but I was hooked.

When I arrived to Phoenix, I realized it was very hot and I quickly learned the significance of shade. And so my passion for trees began in earnest.  When I purchased my first house, I researched a bit and planted a Goldwater Pine. This tree originated in Southwestern Asia, thrives in heat, drought and wind and is extremely fast growing.  I planted the tree myself, kept it fertilized and watered it on a regular basis.  Daily I was out looking at the tree, monitoring it, assessing the new growth and watching it grow.  Often, due to water, fertilizer the tree would grow three feet a year.  I have since realized there was another key ingredient.  When I sold the house and we moved, the tree and subsequent trees I had planted died.  Note to residents in the desert southwest, although trees may look healthy, they will always need to be watered on a regular basis.

Our next house was on a cul-de-sac on a third of an acre. The back yard was huge and naturally, given we were in a new subdivision, it was treeless.  You know what I did; I planted trees, thirty nine in total.  Of the thirty-nine, twelve were queen palms around the new pool, two fruit trees and the rest pine’s.  These trees were my passion.  I would walk around the yard several times a week and assess their health while monitoring the rapid growth.  My mom and sister reminded me of a story that I had actually forgotten. They had coordinated with Kristine to surprise me with a visit and unbeknownst to me, they were hidden inside our home when I arrived.  They heard the garage open and close, and waited to jump out at me in our bedroom, only I never came.  They waited and waited; finally my Mom went searching for me and found me in the backyard.  She watched as I made the rounds, one tree at a time.  At each tree I would stop and envelope them with love.  She crept silently behind me and asked, “Do they talk back to you?” 

Good times and even better memories; this is me in my element, but recently I realized that there is a parallel. It is going to sound obvious, but the same applies to those we meet whether that is a child (especially a child in fact) or someone hurting in some way.  We are all energetic beings and we affect each other energetically, sometimes only a little and at other times a lot. This is a beautiful truth and an amazing power we have.  With it, we can comfort, help and support each other.  And with this power comes grave responsibility, especially with children and those hurting in some way.  Let us strive together to be part of the solution instead of part of the problem.

Let us help one another on this journey.

Happy New Year!

 

Published in Quinton's Messages
Wednesday, 17 October 2018 21:41

I See Your Hand in This

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.

Published in Quinton's Messages
Tuesday, 31 July 2018 19:37

Something About the Music

 The monsoon storm blew in like a lion.  I had been watching it on weather radar; the yellow’s and reds foretold a doozy.  While sitting outside with the boys, it arrived, filling our pool with debris and it even appeared we would lose one of our larger trees.  The three of us went to the sheltered side of the house and watched the lightning show, while I hooped and hollered at each strike. 

The next day I was up early, cleaning the pool filters and then slipped in to remove as much of the remaining debris that I could.  Some of our other neighbors did lose trees and one even had their cinder block wall blown over.  There was nothing I could do.  I had a flight to catch and I was already late, but at the same time I knew the universe was watching over me.  And, the music even sounded wonderful in my soul (my private hint that I am feeling good).

Traffic was heavy at that time of the morning, but I wasn’t stressing.  If I missed my flight, I knew it was meant to be. I was overcome with a strong feeling of LOVE for everyone and everybody as I drove slowly along, so I took that feeling and projected all around the planet.  I made it and was the next to last on, a flight with 23 empty seats.  Surprisingly, a seat on the aisle was available. After settling in quickly, I started reading one of my Louis L’Amour western novels that I love so much, but I couldn’t help but notice the family I was sitting with.

They were a young couple with three children.  The father sat with the boys, ages seven and five, filling the left side of the aisle while the mother sat on the right side of the aisle with their daughter aged three.  Something about all of them – they were all beautiful, with a beautiful energy emanating from them.  Before too long, I leaned across the aisle and softly told the man, “You have a wonderful family; nice job.”  The young lady must have heard me, and we started a conversation.  Ultimately she asked how many children I have. 

Naturally I told her I have two children, one here and one on the other side.  I introduced her to Quinton and our journey, as briefly as I could.  I told her of his visits and now after nine and one-half years, when I speak, I hammer home the simple fact that dead people don’t send us signs nor visit us in those amazingly beautiful and crystal clear dreams – ONLY THE LIVING DO THIS!  I went on just a moment longer, sharing that when I speak now, I let those in the audience know that being eternal applies to each of us as well, as I invite each to look at their live through a different lens – that lens being, given that we are eternal, what are we to learn from this.

This family were all kindred spirits.  There was something wonderful about them as I watched the father, so patient and loving with their boys and the mother so patient and loving with their daughter.  I kept looking left and right, barely suppressing my smile as my eyes watered with gratitude.  The mother brought up the topic of adversity and how it is a teacher.  This is a favorite topic of mine as well. 

We landed without incident.  Once to the gate, the passengers began to disembark but I needed to tell them once more what they meant to me.  I tapped the gentleman on the shoulder and softly said, “God Bless you and your family.  Being here with you has made my day and lifted my spirits.”  The words were for him; they were intimate and filled with love.  As I looked back to my right, I saw the mother had heard every word and was gazing at her husband through teary eyes, with love. 

At this point, it is plainly obvious that my being late was coordinated so I could sit amidst these five angels.  Leaving the airport, I walked on a thin level of air and noticed some looking at me and smiling.  Meeting and connecting others has that effect on us, does it not?  During the day was more of the same.  A client came to my office and picked up both Quinton’s Messages and Quinton’s Legacy that I had brought to share with a tenant.  She looked lovingly at Quinton. 

The day wound down quickly.  I had a 4:00 appointment and had twenty five minutes to get there, but I had to deliver the books to the intended recipient.  And I did, with a hug.  I made my appointment and the next thing I know I handed out a Quinton’s Messages card and had a conversation about adversity being a teacher.  I didn’t bring it up, she did.  As I drove to the hotel, I heard, “you are listening to 95.5 The Q.”  Indeed, I was.

As I consciously seek peace as I go small with the social media, these amazing things are beginning to happen again.  The phone is ringing with fellow travelers seeking…  I most certainly know very little about the why or even the how, but I sit here in gratitude and in deepening sense of peace.

And I wish the same for you.

Namaste

Published in Quinton's Messages
Tuesday, 20 February 2018 12:51

Sharing and Fellowship

On this difficult journey we find ourselves on, it is important to share our experiences and emotions.  In doing so we create fellowship that may help us begin to or continue to heal.  While there is no, “getting back to normal”, we can create a new normal that may actually include joy.

After Quinton transitioned and began sending signs that even I could recognize, literally, nobody could keep me from sharing those signs.  One of the most amazing results of my sharing was people would share their experiences with signs from their loved ones; this is the fellowship that I refer to.  An excellent example of this was as I shared with an office manager in a building I used to manage. She broke down and shared how her Mom came to her after she transitioned.  She had tried to tell her Dad those many years ago, but he had shut her down by telling her it wasn’t possible her Mom came to her and held her hand.  As I stood there before her, she thanked me for proving to her that she was not “crazy” and that she experienced really happened, because her experiences were very similar to mine.  This scene played out time and time again over the years since our son crossed the threshold. 

I did share something recently of Facebook and was amazed at the reaction.  What I shared related to my oldest grandson and I shared it because I have read numerous times that children see spirits.  As James Van Praagh said in an interview with Amelia Leigh on June 3, 2017, “Most children are very psychic. They just came from the other side and their mindset is of that dimension.”  Mr. Van Praagh shares this simple fact in most of his books.  Now that I have this knowledge that children see spirit more readily than we do, with grandchildren in the house, I have been looking for evidence.

I wrote on February 10th, 2018, “Would it surprise you to know that my grandson saw my son yesterday?  I am not.  At the tender age of four, children’s perception is better than most adults.  They have no dis-belief to combat, they just tell it like it is.  He saw Quinton by the front door, just looking at him.  I have read about this time and time again, been waiting for it to happen.  Good Morning!  Know There is More.”  I shared because this is amazing, beautiful and divine.  I shared out of a belief that in knowing, I have an obligation to share.  The responses speak to my point; in sharing, we invite others to share with us; and this fellowship between us is epitomizes Love and the Divine.  Here are just a few of the responses:

  • “Not at all.My 7 month old grandson laughs and follows something in the room.My daughter swears it is her brother.Then I had a reading with a medium and she said ‘Sean is hanging out with his nephew when he is in his crib.He has 1 dimple on the right side of his cheek.’He does!’
  • “I love this!My Mom comes to me in my dreams…”
  • “My grandson used to see my son!I LOVE this post!!!”
  • “My granddaughter Meeka sees her Uncle Devin DJ; she is my lifeline to him.”
  • “When the extraordinary becomes reality, we are changed forever.I love this for all of you, Ernie!”
  • “When my mother died, we brought some things from her house and put them in our dining room.I would see shadows of her in that room, but my grandchild, who was 7 months old at the time, sat in his bouncy chair and carried on conversations with her.He was looking up and baby babbling. Then he’d be quiet, listening, and then baby babble again.It went on for quite some time.I loved it.”
  • “That is sooooo beautiful!My little grandson saw Jon so many times!He is almost 5 now and I guess he is getting more integrated on ‘this side’ so his sightings have become less and less… I will miss hearing him tell his Jon-Jon stories!”
  • “My grandson saws my son on several occasions as well.The younger they are, the more accepting they are of the things that they see and feel.”

I hope you are as filled with love, gratitude and appreciation for all – as I am over this exchange.  We are connected in the most Divine ways!  All we have to do, is have the courage to share, even the pain.  Share it all, with those who understand.   www.helpingparentsheal.org

Blessings!

Published in Quinton's Messages
Friday, 19 January 2018 20:22

The Traveling Man

The traveling man left Peoria long before sunrise.  By the time he made it to where Highway 160 turned north, five miles from the Four Corners Monument and six miles from where his son transitioned, it was approximately 8:00 a.m.  The sun was now up and it was a cold twenty-three degrees outside.  As the man made the turn he saw two figures standing alongside the road, almost in the exact same spot they last pulled over eight and one-half years ago to adjust the jet skis on the trailer.  The couple standing there saw the truck make the turn and wondered if it would stop and give them a ride.

They didn’t raise their thumbs until he was close.  The man was watching them and hadn’t picked up a hitchhiker for years, and had never picked up two at one time, but he stopped, backed up and then unlocked the doors.  When they opened the doors, the man asked where they were going to which the gentleman said, Towaoc.  The traveling man knew the town.  The first responders to the accident came from the station located there and a few years afterward he had spoken with them there.

The woman sat in the back seat and the man sat in the front.  His name was Eric and he was upbeat and positive; he had a good and strong energy about him.  The traveling man asked him what was going on in Towaoc and he responded that he had an orientation for a new job he had just landed.  Given the proximity to the accident site, the traveling man mentioned the memorial, the accident that claimed Quinton’s life years prior and even some of signs from his son.  And then the conversation began in earnest.

The Eric’s father had transitioned a scant one month prior.  Naturally the traveling man asked if he had received any signs yet or if his Dad had visited him in his dreams.  He indicated he hadn’t but that he could hear his Dad’s words in his head, encouraging him to get up and go to the orientation even though it was cold out.  He spoke of his Dad’s conversation with him two weeks prior to his transition, telling him that while it was his time to go, he (Eric) had to stay. 

The hitchhiker was no stranger to death; his baby sister had transitioned when she was just three month old.  It broke his Mom’s heart.  She was so sad, he explained.  She often spoke of wishing she could see her, and be with her again.  He shared that one morning  years ago, his Mom wouldn’t wake up.  She slept for so long that he and his Dad were about to call for paramedics, when suddenly she woke up.  She was happy and excited, and had something to tell them.  She had gone to heaven and saw her daughter.  She said her daughter was alive and well, and went on to describe the surroundings as “bright and misty”.

The traveling man and Eric really hit it off as they both discussed the fact that we are eternal and our lives here have purpose.  The traveling man encouraged Eric to be an example for his people, to be a bright light and not to fret if he ever stumbles.  None of us are perfect; just get up, forgive yourself and keep being a role model.  The world today desperately needs role models.

Eric told the man that he never would have thought he would meet a man like him that morning.  He shared that he had stood at Quinton’s Memorial just a few weeks prior and thought, “this is some man’s son.”  He continued by saying, “And here you are.”  The traveling man provided him with two business cards, one for Arizona and another for Colorado and told him, “Call me if you need to talk with me.”  Then he dropped them off at their destination and continued with his drive.

The world is a funny place as it quite effectively separates us by race, color, nationality, sexuality and sex; by the haves and have nots.  This is not reality.  The truth of the matter is, we are tied to one another, if we go deep enough, if we care enough; we are all one, linked to one another by an absolute Love.  All we need do is get out of our own way and begin to see through the stories that we allow to separate us.

Namaste

Published in Quinton's Messages