Ernie Jackson

Ernie Jackson

Saturday, 16 March 2019 20:38

The Work

The irony of this journey does not escape me. I, like everybody else on the planet, am not perfect.  Fundamentalists would have me say I am born in sin.  This statement rubs me raw as the infamous “they” say the same of Quinton.  On the other hand, in taking a higher perspective, a perspective above the dogma and divisive commentary, I understand what “they” are trying to say.  They are trying to say, none of us are perfect and all of us come here because we have something to learn, experience and do.  In saying it that way, is it any more palatable? Well, it is for me.

In this place of being less than perfect, although I have made mistakes, hurt others and am constantly moving in repeating cycles. Through it all, at times I have been of service.  That being of service expanded after Quinton transitioned and showed me There is so very much More, through his visits and signs.  How is that for irony? It took Quinton’s transition to open my eyes. I really had no choice, other than to leap down the rabbit hole, past the dogma, to understand how it was all possible.  What I discovered was a much broader vision of our reality, a broad vision that encompasses every single human being on the planet and every spirit not currently incarnated.  It is a beautiful vision.

For much of my adult life, I remember saying, “Either you are part of the solution or part of the problem.” That is right, I actually would say this at times, while Quinton was still with us and now that Quinton is in spirit (and still with us).  The truth of this statement is even more relevant. This thought is very much related to the Cherokee story about two wolves battling for dominance; one embodies anger, greed, insecurities, hate, and fear while the other embodies love, forgiveness, peace, and gentleness.  The question is which one wins and the answer is, the one you feed.  So, am I part of the solution or part of the problem?  And being human, the answer is I am both at times, but I would like to say I am over the fifty-four years in this version of myself, I have improved.

In this place, there are choices. Do I continue even trying or do I slip into the background?  Lord knows, slipping into the background is all too easy, the proverbial, head to the hills and forget about it all.  Within that thought and the peace within it, I am called to serve.  Hmmm – even more irony.  The phone rings and I find myself on three Boards of Directors.  Two of them are relevant to my theme here, Helping Parents Heal and The Unity of Phoenix Spiritual Center.

The Mission Statement for HPH is as follows: Helping Parents Heal is a non-profit organization dedicated to assisting bereaved parents, giving them the support and resources to aid in the healing process. We go a step beyond groups by allowing the open discussion of spiritual experiences and evidence for the afterlife in a non-dogmatic way.

The Mission Statement for the Unity of Phoenix Spiritual Center is: Unity of Phoenix Spiritual Center is a loving spiritual community that welcomes all people and honors all paths to God. We are dedicated to transforming lives by inspiring and awakening individuals to discover God’s Spirit within them.

I am sure the see similarities and given you are on Quinton’s website, I expect you see both mission statements are lock step and consistent with what we learned after Quinton transitioned. This is the easy part as I still attempt to serve, help others see a broader view of our time here in this version of ourselves and the institutions that do the same.  In being part of both these Boards, I am working with eagles and in doing so I have the opportunity for even more personal growth as I work with organizations who also committed to help others see something of a larger picture, those who are ready to see.

My wish for you is to keep moving forward, keep learning and keep growing. It isn’t easy; it is challenging.  It is too easy to stagnate, fall prey to the bad news broadcast throughout the news and social media, and give up.  However, the silent majority not reported on is growing, learning, and are helping others in every way imaginable.  They are being part of the solution both for their own spiritual growth and for those of others.  At the end of the day, it is a choice. 

Which wolf are you feeding, day in and day out, minute by minute?



Sunday, 10 March 2019 21:41

Sometimes I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder, how many times can I say it; how many times can I tell you this wonderful truth, a truth that for those who haven’t experience it, it doesn’t even register. This most Divine and Wonderful truth that our transitioned loved ones whisper in our ear, show us in dreams and send with the most subtle and or incredible signs.  How many times can I say it?  How many even hear?

Grief is the most awful experience. Some stay there, not being able to lift their heads up, unable to reach out for support or maybe reject the support offered – and that is okay for there is no judgement.  For others, there is support from loved ones, friends and those who have walked through the torturous path of grief emerging to put out the flames and Stand.  Here we stand, with arms open wide, sharing knowledge, comfort and an ear to listen as you unload what must be unloaded. 

I hope and I pray, once this divine knowledge pierces your consciousness that you then begin your journey. We can journey together, but it is a personal journey too.  What does this mean in your individual life; what does it mean for you that your loved one has transitioned, yet here you remain.  Remaining here is a gift, when you keep moving forward and I implore you to move forward or to be more accurate, journey down the rabbit hole of a broader view of the human experience.  This is what our transitioned children, and other loved ones from the other side, show us a glimpse of. 

What comes next isn’t merely about enduring or surviving. Whether you want to hear it or not, all of it has purpose.   Our kids show us, there is no death, period.  Our kids show us, life is eternal, period.  And to think, for many of us, we only come about this knowledge via having a loved one transition, then start sending us signs, communicating in some way and visiting us in those crystal, clear and lifelike “dreams”.  We remain here because we have more to learn, more to experience and more to share – truth.  Even if you don’t want to learn more, I implore you to take the step, because there is more beyond the grieving, the signs and the mediums.  Are you willing to travel down that path your child has set you upon?

As you travel down that path, you may learn about soul contracts and soul groups. As you travel you may hear and learn about reincarnation. You may hear and learn about young souls and old souls.  You may learn about past lives and for some, maybe even future lives.  There is purpose to our time here, even though knowing this may be so challenging initially.  For so many of us, we had a contract with our children, made before we incarnated, that they would transition early to help us to wake up in some way and make even more of our time here. 

How many think this is crazy? How many think I am a fool?  Well, I am so sorry – what I write about, after having read about all of it and experiencing some of it, is the only thing that makes sense.  I am so sorry, I can’t and I won’t go back to how I thought before.  What was important will never be as important again.  And still, I too have to choose, do I stand still or do I keep going deeper.

Initially, for many of us, they journey started with reading. For me, after Quinton began visiting, I knew that I had to attempt to find out how doing so was even possible.  I discovered, There Is No Death.  Now I say to you, dead people don’t send us signs, only the living do - period.  I started with every book by Brian Weiss, MD and every book by Michael Newton, Ph.D. and by James Van Praagh.  These fed and nourished me, and kept me on the path.  But for you, it could be Robert Schwartz, Gary Schwartz and Suzanne Giesemann; or it could be Raymond Moody, Anita Moorjani and Jonathan Ellerby; or Mark Ireland and Mark Pitstick.  Find something that speaks to you, that puts you on the path and keeps on the path your loved ones set you upon.  Believe it or not, you agreed to this crazy journey before you even came here – this time. Truth

God Bless and Namaste

Sunday, 27 January 2019 09:35

Tina Dougoud - She is Home Now

I am the oldest of three children; my other two siblings are sisters, one is three years younger and the other is eight years younger than I. And now we dance with grief again.  I feel for my Mom and my remaining sister.

My middle sister, Tina Dougoud had a tough life from the start. Nothing came easy for her and she sometimes bore the brunt of our father’s anger because she looked a little bit different than the rest of the family, but she was 100% family.  I have learned so much over the years and have a rudimentary understanding of how the distribution of genes can be different from sibling to sibling.  Tina’s journey with being different was not spiritual. She was the black sheep of our family, but still you could see her light, at times anyway.  I remember just before we moved from New Jersey, I thought I saw progress in her, but when we arrived in Colorado, a new setting was too much for her and the progress was lost.

Throughout junior high school and high school Tina’s journey only became more challenging. When I went away to college she was in and out of detention centers, becoming unrecognizable to me on rare occasions when I did see her. I didn’t think highly of her and said as much to others who would chastise me for being judgmental or cruel.  She came back into the family a few of times with the entire family trying to help her with a job or housing, but whenever she was in our lives, she put all of us into turmoil with her manipulative ways.  In 1988, I invited her out of my life.

More than twenty years passed and it was Bill Lambert (my junior high tech arts teacher and track coach) who we were visiting with after Quinton transitioned that pushed me to reconnect, and I did. We visited in Phoenix and had a wonderful conversation, quite spiritual in fact. We stayed in sporadic contact as time passed, but soon she only called when she needed money.  I knew the score and loaned her some money, which was never paid back.   Still though when we did speak I would encourage her to beat her addictions and encourage her to keep trying.  There is so much love in her; I can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice.  She was proud of us, proud of me to break the bonds we were exposed to all those many years ago.  It was good to see her, when we did.  Our last in depth conversation came a year or two ago.  She needed to talk and even though I was frustrated with her frequent relapses, I encouraged her yet again.  I wished her well and told her I loved her.

Late Saturday evening, January 12th I received two messages indicating Tina had been found face down in the snow, in a Walmart parking lot in northern Denver.  How long she had been there in the snow, we will never know, but at this point it appears that it may have been hours.  She was found, taken to the hospital, but never regained consciousness.  Within hours of the news, on Sunday morning, Tina sent me the most beautiful sign, letting me know she was alive and well on the other side.  I recognized it immediately.  My screen saver on my monitor rotates the hundreds of pictures saved on the computer, one at a time.  When I walked into my home office early in the morning and immediately saw 6 pictures in a row with Tina in them flash by on my monitor and I knew her journey here was over, and I was happy for her.

Why even write this sad tale, you may ask. Well, because there are not rules to how any of this works.  All of us are eternal and any of us can receive a sign from a loved one on the other side, and anyone on the other side can send a sign.  Our challenge is to recognize the sign. 

God Bless you Tina; you are home, we love you and we honor you.


P.S. What a beautiful sign you sent to Regina.  Truly amazing!  You are a special soul, Tina!

Tina and Kristine

Family pics 1.20.19

The evening of January 15th, I was on Karl Fink program Streaming for the Soul to discuss forgiveness and the signs from our loved ones across the veil that so beautifully illustrate there is no death, only a transition to another form.  During the initial airing of the program, Jann Kraus was watching.  Jann is a certified hypnotherapist and past life regression therapist who has been actively teaching and doing light work for 47 years.  She gave me permission to share the below.

Approximately four years ago Jann went to a very good medium named Julie. During that reading both her mother and grandmother had shown up to speak with her, but there was a young boy who showed up as well.  He was so excited, jumping all over the place in fact, so much so her mom and grandmother in spirit could barely get a word in.  The boy was about 8 years old and thanked Jann for “helping him”.  Jann struggled to connect the dots, initially not even knowing who he could be, but when she hung up she remembered something her son had shared with her within two months prior to her reading with Julie.

Her son’s wife was a minister and actively involved with counseling two families, one of whom had a son (Spencer) dying of cancer and the other family had a son with a mildly autistic condition. The two boys ended up being best friends.  Spencer would encourage his friend by telling him he had “super bots” that made him strong and kept anyone from hurting him. The day came that nothing else could be done for Spencer and his family took him home for his transition and soon, he became non-responsive.  Arrangements were made to bring Spencer’s best friend to see him, but he remained unresponsive until his friend mentioned “super bots” and told him that they would now make him strong – and Spencer opened his eyes, the two friends locked gazes, and then Spencer transitioned.

Jann’s son shared the above with her and it broke her heart. Jann cried and prayed for Spencer, his family and for his best friend.  In her prayer to Spencer she “recalled telling Spencer to look for a bright light and that we was safe and that Jesus would find him.”  As she realized he was the little boy who dropped in during the session with the medium, she marveled how all of it came together.  She was in a complete state of awe that she, a perfect stranger’s caring and prayer can actually help someone on the other side!  This was a wonderful lesson for her, as she stated in her letter to me, but a wonderful lesson for me as well.

Here at Helping Parents Heal, we help you come to terms with your child’s transition and eventually come to realize that they continue to exist in a different form. We do this by giving you a safe place to discuss the signs, signs that come in all manner of ways.  A person has to be living to send us a sign!  Life continues and there is a continuity of life.  The above incident drives that home yet again.  We are energy, we are spiritual beings having a human experience which segues directly to the power of prayer.  I don’t know about you, but I have to meditate on that a bit to let that sink in.  I understood we could affect each other energetically here in the physical realm, but haven’t given it much thought that we could do the same to our loved ones across the veil.  This is truly incredible for some of us and for others – they have known it all along.

We are wishing you the best for the New Year! May your year be filled with epiphanies and purpose, for we are still here, so each of us has a purpose as we continue to learn and experience the Divine.


Wednesday, 02 January 2019 07:15

My New Shoulder

For nearly thirty years, or maybe more, my left shoulder has given me fits. On our first date nearly twenty-seven years ago, I bumped Kristine on her head as I tried to put my arm around her while at a movie.  Why she kept seeing me and eventually marrying me, I will never really fully understand.

Nearly three decades have passed and in those decades I had two procedures. The first was an orthoscopic surgery and the second was called a “hemi”, where the end of my humerus was replaced with titanium that I affectionately called a door stop.  When I had that surgery, some twelve years ago or so, Dr. Steven Traina told me, next time it will be a full replacement.  Next time arrived, after putting it off for as long as I could, to the point of using the arm less and less.

Things have changed so much. I went in to an orthopedic surgeon in Phoenix (Dr. Tyler Collins) and basically told him what I needed to have done, and he asked when do you want to have surgery?  We picked a date and I began to prepare mentally and spiritually.  You see, I was consistently being told a shoulder replacement was the most difficult of the replacements.  Interestingly, when I told some what I was going to have done, they would look sad; shake their head and say, “I am sorry”.  My response was, “thanks”.  So I prepared for hell on earth and I prepared for the toughest test of my life.

I have already been through hell on earth, obviously. Through the fires of experiencing Quinton transition came the most amazing experiences and realization that we are all eternal.  With this knowledge, I look at each and every challenge, accident and bit of bad news as a learning experience.  With this knowledge in hand, I was ready. 

Surgery was November 2nd and I had been advised very forcefully to begin the pain management program before the nerve block wore off.  I was told of numerous wives who had called the doctor about thirty six hours after their husband’s surgery in a panic because their spouse was in unbelievable pain.  The common denominator in each instance was they had felt so good that they did not begin the pain management as instructed.  That would have been me ten years ago or so, but now older and wiser, I understand that the rules and advice apply to me too.  You see, I am not super human, even though I thought I was all those years ago.

Much to my surprise, everything went smooth. I followed instructions regarding pain management and was off the meds in a week, then started physical therapy exactly two weeks after surgery.  Three weeks after surgery I ditched the sling and asked during every step, what can I do and what shouldn’t I do at this point.  Seven weeks after surgery I asked and was told that could push it, as far as reps, just nothing more than ten lbs.  Eight weeks after surgery, during a PT session I had a bit of an epiphany as I continued to notice how my shoulder is becoming stronger and more flexible.  My epiphany was, it wasn’t about the weight I was using, but it was about being consistent and being grateful.

This seems so simple and obvious, but the epiphany was powerful. I am an individual that has accomplished much, but measure each day’s activity by what was accomplished in the past with the end result being disappointed with where I am now and giving up the path.  Does this make sense?  So here I am in Physical Therapy for my new shoulder being grateful and pleased that I can lift my arm at all.  Here I am being grateful for the slightest improvement as now I am able to lift my arm while holding a 1 lb. weight.  This is where it hit me.  The journey isn’t about how much lift or to what heights I reach; it is about being consistent with my activity as I move to an intended outcome, and being grateful.  So simple and in this simplicity, there is no reason for disappointment, only consistent movement forward and through whatever obstacles arise. 

My shoulder is doing great and thank you for asking. I already have a better range of motion than I have had in decades and it has only been two months.  While still weak, my strength is slowly improving a day at a time.  All I need to do is be consistent with my activity relating to my arm, my goals in life while enjoying all the blessings heaped upon us over the years and have faith that it will all workout. What is ironic is, in this place of peace, more Good arrives.

And so it is…

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!


Sunday, 25 November 2018 20:49

A Visit From Quinton

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.


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,


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

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

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.