Reading Room

CHAPTER 1
THE NIGHTMARE
 

Your living is determined not so much
by what life brings to you as by the
attitude you bring to life, not so much
by what happens to you as by the way
your mind looks at what happens.
- John Homer Miller
 

Speeding along the Pennsylvania Turnpike late on a Friday afternoon, I smiled to myself with happiness and anticipation of the romantic weekend ahead. It was a beautiful September day and everything in my world was going great.

The sense of foreboding I had felt a few weeks ago had evaporated. It had started subtly. Our teen-aged daughters enthusiastically accompanied me on a shopping expedition for back-to-school clothes. Both girls were now taller than their Mom; Linda 5'9" and slender with hair now a deep blonde, Arlene a couple of inches shorter, whose earlier strawberry blonde hair had now turned to a lovely chestnut shade with reddish highlights. Both had developed their own unique style, and like all teenaged girls loved shopping for new clothes.

Our route had taken us past a local funeral parlor, when out of the blue, Linda suddenly declared, "When I die, I want Richardson's to handle the funeral arrangements."

Since the Richardsons were friends and their son was also a friend of hers, I didn't think too much of her statement. Then, she continued, "And I want to be buried in my jeans."

I laughed, replying, "You're going to look pretty silly as an old lady in jeans in your casket." We went on to discuss other matters and nothing more was said about dying. She had never talked about death or dying before.

Shortly before Linda returned to Millersville State College [now Millersville University], she had the "blues," which was most unusual for her. She kept saying, "This is not a good year for me! This is not my year! This is not a good year for me!"

The two of us sat up talking until after two in the morning. I asked her, "Has anything happened to make you feel that way?"

"No, I just know it is not a good year for me."

"Perhaps you're bored and will feel better when you get back to school," I reassured her.

Then Linda blurted something peculiar: "I always know what my friends are going to say before they say it."

Were her friends that predictable, or was she psychic? I never asked her that question.

At one point she mentioned her much beloved "Doggie," a floppy stuffed animal given to her by her Godparents on her very first Christmas. She loved that toy and played with it long after it was bald and skinny.

"Do you still have him?" I asked. "I haven't seen 'Doggie' for years."

"Oh, yes," she replied, reaching into a bottom drawer, pulling him out and hugging him, "and I want him buried with me."

I did not realize how significant that conversation would become within just a short period of time.

A week or so later 19-year-old Linda returned to Millersville where she was a junior, and shortly thereafter 16-year-old Arlene started her freshman year at the University of Delaware.

My husband Ed and I enjoyed the company of our children so much that we always chose to take family vacations. Now, for the first time in over 19 years, we had our home completely to ourselves with no need to adjust schedules and meals to accommodate the activities of two daughters or chauffeur them anywhere.

We were free to do things on the spur of the moment, go out to dinner, take off for the weekend or do whatever else took our fancy. It made us suddenly feel younger and carefree. Until the girls returned for a visit home, we were "empty nesters." Though we missed having the girls around, we were also enjoying this newly found freedom.

My career was challenging but fun and rewarding. The speaker and entertainment agency a friend and I started a few years ago had grown and expanded from being strictly a local business to becoming a nationally known operation. We added destination management services for conventions and corporations coming to the region. Frequently working with the hotels and convention bureau to bring business to Philadelphia, what had started as a part time venture was now a full time effort and then some.

The following day Ed and I had a "date" to drive out to Bucks County. We planned to stop at an art gallery and antique shop or two, and have dinner at a favorite country inn. A friend once confided to me that when their children left for college, she and her husband delighted in a "second honeymoon." The thought sounded intriguing.

That night Ed worked on a project in his workshop, and a few requests from speakers kept me busy until it was time to retire for the night.

When the doorbell rang at 3:40 in the morning and I found two police officers on our doorstep, I immediately knew it was not because of a parking ticket. Instantly fully awake, my adrenalin started to pump.

My first thought was that something had happened to one of our parents. Although relatively healthy at the time, my parents and Ed's mother were all over 70 years of age.

Avoiding my eyes, the policemen asked to speak with my husband. Searching their serious, stoic faces gave me no clue as to their mission. I ushered them into the living room, but they declined my invitation to be seated. After Ed joined us, they informed us our daughter had been involved in an accident at college.

"Which daughter?" we chorused.

The police indicated that the authorities at Millersville were unable to reach us.

After the last telephone conversation the night before, evidently the telephone receiver had not been hung up properly and no incoming calls could get through. Hence the college contacted our local police.

One of the officers dialed a number using the wall telephone just inside the kitchen doorway, spoke a few words I could not quite hear, and handed the phone to Ed. The other officer insisted that I remain seated and not stand next to Ed as he called. Only half the conversation could be heard at our end. There had been an accident at approximately 9:30 p.m. More than likely the individual at the other end of the line was trying to be tactful and not just blurt out bad news or perhaps was having difficulty saying what he dreaded saying.

I will never ever forget hearing my husband suddenly raise his voice and say,

"ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD?"

NO! This could not be! It had to be some terrible nightmare, and I would soon wake up!

IN RETROSPECT

It was not until later it finally sunk in that during the final summer of her life Linda had given me full instructions for her funeral. Prior to then she had never before mentioned death or dying, not a topic most 19 year olds talk about.

We could now unequivocally attest to the fact that "bad things do happen to good people." The question is, why? When Linda was killed, there seemed to be no answers to the "Why" question. And yet, as I write this now, I believe I know the answer.

It has taken many years and a number of teachers. I am now so much further along my own spiritual path than I was then. I understand much more now, including the fact that there are no "accidents."

Her task here on earth had been completed, and so she was called home.

* * *

I gradually came to the conclusion that it is not just that we are meant to eventually bounce back from challenges. What advances us along our spiritual path is how we handle the challenges. No matter the large, or sometimes small, impact these challenges may make on our lives; in addition to lessons learned, we are meant to become a better individual than we were - perhaps more compassionate, more understanding, more kind and loving.

Though the traumas seem to have the biggest impact and are sometimes the most memorable events, positive experiences are also teaching tools from which we can learn - if we are paying close attention. At least it seems easier to show gratitude and be thankful for the positive experiences. It usually takes time and distance to appreciate the "gift" we receive from negative events. Perhaps if we are wise enough, we can also learn lessons from observing the learning experiences of others. A recent email advised:

"Learn from the mistakes of others.
There isn't enough time during our own lifetime
To make them all yourself."

We had no conscious choice in Linda's death. It was beyond our control. Perhaps our souls learned about love through grief. Our only choice was in how each of us who loved her chose to handle this horrific event that had changed us all forever.

* * *

At this point in our grief, none of us could possibly realize that we would soon receive a surprising validation that Linda had not really left us after all.

EXCERPT FROM PART II

FORGIVENESS

To err is human; to forgive, divine.
- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism

Forgiveness plays a very important part in turning our lives around for the better. Forgiving others for their real and/or perceived negative or harmful actions against us, and also forgiving ourselves [sometimes the hardest part] for harmful or negative actions and thoughts towards others is essential for a peaceful life. I experienced difficulty in forgiving others for past betrayals and hurts until I realized that forgiving someone does not mean condoning what they have done. At the same time I forgave, I could also even be saying to myself, "I will never allow you to do that to me again!" Forgiveness means you are releasing them [and yourself], and you no longer choose to carry that heavy burden within your heart. Forgiving others may be the greatest gift we can give ourselves. I wish I knew who first expressed the thought: "Whenever we seek revenge or are unforgiving within our heart, it is the same as taking poison but expecting the other person to die."

This is so very true. Negative thoughts can be toxic to us.

While we are in a forgiving mood, we need to put ourselves at the top of the list of those to forgive. Until we can forgive ourselves as well as others, our progress along our spiritual path is slower and may get bogged down. Edgar Cayce had a powerful message about self-forgiveness:

Be not afraid because you have faltered anywhere.
For He has said, "I forgive, even as you forgive
others." Then how forgiving are you?
Answer this, and you will know
just how you have been forgiven.
It is the law, it is the Lord, it is love.
- Edgar Cayce Reading [3376-2]AR

Forgiveness also means releasing our past. We cannot change our past. It is history, carved in stone. We can, however, release our past and its hold on us. We can change our perception of our past, all part of our education here in earth school. Sometimes we may have been the student, sometimes the teacher. The people in our lives, the adversity, the challenges, the good times, the bad times, were all part of our learning experience. We need to acknowledge, give thanks for them - all of them - forgive and release it all. Today IS the first day of the rest of your life, so make the choice to make it count and move towards love and joy.