Dear Grandma,
How are things up in heaven? I hope they are treating you well up there. Have you been watching things down here? It’s been such a mess with our family since you’ve been gone. The family that once stood together has now drifted apart. If you have noticed, no one gets together anymore for gatherings. No one hardly even calls anybody just for a chat or anything. It’s not like when you were around, but we are trying.
Besides that update, I’ve been hanging in there the best I can. Since you last saw me, I’m now married with kids. I’m living on my own now, and I have changed my outlook since surgery five years ago, but I’m still the kind-hearted person you remember. I’ve just had a lot of difficulties in my journeys since then, but I’m trying to stay as strong as possible.
As I mentioned, I have kids now, Grandma. I ended up having two girls, ages 15 and 10, and I also had my first boy, but sadly, he didn’t make the journey. So if you happen to come across him, could you give him a hug for me and let him know that Mommy misses him? I will eventually see him soon. Since then, I added two more stepdaughters after I got remarried; they are 9 and 8. They are so adorable, Grandma! The littlest one adores me to death. She still calls me by my name, but that’s okay. It doesn’t bother me. She loves to play dress-up with me, cover herself in makeup, or just have fun tickling and gobbling each other at times.
By the way, Grandma, if you’ve been watching, can you believe your great-granddaughter is now getting ready for her journey to high school? I wish you had the chance to meet her. She’s been having struggles with her studies and trying to figure out what she wants to do moving forward. But Mom, Dad, and I, even though she doesn’t always make things easy for us, are getting by.
If you’re wondering about your other grandson, I know you were concerned about him. Well, Eddie is doing well. He’s been growing every day and will be turning 39 this year. Can you believe that? He still looks like Dad every day, but he is still the bright, energetic person you remembered. Dad, on the other hand, has been struggling a bit lately, trying to do everything he can for us. But Grandma, I know you’re in our hearts, and there isn’t a moment that goes by that we don’t wish you were back here with us. I know for sure that if you were here, you wouldn’t approve of how everything has been going since you made your trip.
Before I go, I wanted to let you know that even though I don’t speak for the family, I’m sorry that I haven’t had the time to come back and visit you since my last trip. With everything that has been going on here lately, I just haven’t had a way to pull it off. But I hope you are staying safe up there and that they are taking care of you until we are reunited.
I love you, Grandma Allen.
Signed,
Your granddaughter,
Samantha.

An imaginative idea flows along the rivers of blue, trying to figure out its next steps. Clouds of smoke fill the air as the fumes blur words and energize the mind. Sounds of entertainment surround this scene. The idea gets lost in a sea of mystery, dividing as time counts down. Throughout the day, it floats around while ink is being written. As it develops, the idea splatters in a variety of colors, but by day’s end, everything coalesces into one clear hue.

“Dear Mom”

This is gonna be hard for me mentally and I know you’re still here spiritually, but that doesn’t soften the blow that your no longer here physically
The reality has set in that I will never see you again, but if I’m lucky maybe just catch a glimpse of your reflection
As I stare into the sky, something whispers from behind, but I’ve lost all sense of direction
Just three weeks before you left, you looked me in my eyes, and I’ll never forget what you said, because it’s burned inside my mind, you said “bub, I’m not ready to leave this earth yet.” And I said “mom, please don’t worry.” Cuz the good Lord knows that I can’t make it without you, my future would just be blurry
I need you to know that I had no clue that I was lying, I was trying to lift your spirits and maybe we could both stop crying
I know you loved me to the moon, so I focus on the distance, now I’m sitting here alone, and I’m missing your existence!!

This is a story about a woman who had her daughter taken away from her due to injustices in her life. When her daughter was born, the mother was just starting her journey as a young parent, and she was already experiencing relationship issues with her daughter’s father. She had hoped that having their child would encourage him to act better and be more supportive.

Before finding a new place to live, there was an altercation between her oldest daughter and her husband, which led to court involvement. Initially, this situation required her youngest daughter to be placed with the mother’s parents. After the mother divorced her husband, she was in the process of moving and needed to find a new job to secure custody of her child and provide a better life.

The court mistakenly believed that the mother did not want custody at first. However, the truth was that she was concerned about her financial situation and her ability to provide for her daughter. She felt it was best for her child to stay with her parents or with her father, as the child expressed a desire to be with him, and the mother didn’t want to separate them.

The court kept insisting that the mother should have been more aware of the father’s behavior, even though he had never shown any signs of disrespect toward children. She had shared her experiences with him but had never disrespected him as a father. The court expected her to work and manage her own life while also being present to protect her daughter, which was difficult given her circumstances. Her family was assisting her, yet the court didn’t hold the father accountable for issues in her parents’ home, such as an infestation that made it unlivable for the child.

Now, after all this time, the court has indicated that she can fight to regain custody of her daughter. However, they are demanding that she leave her husband, secure a new home, and meet various requirements to be considered for custody. The mother expressed to her mother that she truly wants her daughter back, but given the current state of her life and her parents’ lives, she believes her daughter does not need to be in that environment.

They all miss her and love her deeply, and the mother knows her daughter is not forgotten. She believes that when her daughter is old enough, if she is still alive and well, her daughter will be able to find her if she wants to establish a relationship.

My story is about a woman who had two kids between the ages of 21 and 25. She had two girls who are now 15 and 10. After she had her second child, she made one of the hardest decisions she now regrets. She decided to have her tubes tied and an ablation done because she knew, deep down, that she couldn’t take care of another child due to personal reasons. Despite her belief that she would never have kids again, seven years later, after getting remarried, she found out she was going to have another baby.

She was shocked when she took two home pregnancy tests. She thought, “How is this possible?” Her doctor had told her that the procedure was supposed to be effective, but after two exams were done, the first test revealed that the procedure, after all this time, hadn’t worked, and the second test revealed that there was indeed a baby. Unfortunately, she ended up miscarrying, and all that was left was the gestational sac. She was only two months along, and even though she didn’t yet know the sex of the baby, she wanted to honor him by imagining him as a boy since her partner also had girls.

She was devastated and decided to create a memorial for him. She made a plaque, had a memory box with angel wings, and a special Christmas ornament with his name and the message “In Loving Memory.” She also chose a tattoo for her arm featuring wings, a golden halo, and blue feet to represent him. Her parents even made her a special present to honor their first grandson. They crafted a family of bears, with the mom bear and each of her cubs. She took it home, wrote each of her babies’ names on it, and gave them a special paint color.

Every year, she takes a moment to honor her son and reflects on what he would have looked like if he had loved his sisters and how big he would have been. Many questions run through her mind: What would he have grown up to be? Who knows?

A majestic creature battles her demon day after day and looks deep down inside herself. She looks within and goes, “How do I get rid of the demon when it holds the key to staying connected?” She walked along the golden path and was greeted by two fairies. She pondered for a moment and asked.” Who are you?” The fairies said, “We have the magical powers to show you what you desire.” The majestic creature twiddled her thoughts and said,” How is this possible?” Where did you come from?” She had so many questions running through her fragile mind, but the only thing that blurted out was” How can you both get rid of what I’m facing right now?” The fairies sat her down and explained to her that we know you’ve been facing a demon. We wanted to let you know that the only key that can be set free from the demon is to look inside its soul. She was confused and tried to figure out what exactly did they exactly meant. The fairies told her to take this crystal wing and look into the center of the wing to see your desire. She said,” Are you sure this will work, cause she said she was torn between happiness, friendship, and a new balance in life” The fairies flew into the center of her palace and told her “You will only break the key free when you decide what’s right and overcome your fears. “Once you do that, the crystal wing will serve its purpose and make your magic stronger.” She took her crystal wing back to her palace and remembered what fairies told her to do. She couldn’t believe what she saw on that magical path. Hopefully, one day her special wing will soar in the wind when she’s ready.

Change. It’s a part of life.

Seasons change- the sun stays out longer, the leaves change colors and fall, the snow and ice melt, the plants begin to bloom again.
Humans change- as the years pass every person matures physically, socially, and emotionally.
Technology changes- new ideas develop and old ones are updated.
Culture changes- music and fashion fads become popular, then fade away, and sometimes come back again (though not all of those things should. Looking at you, fanny packs).

But, like it or not, ready or not, at some point everything changes.

Modify. Replace. Fade. Update. Improve. Decrease. Alter. Develop. Transform. Revive. Correct. Shift. Amend. Vary. Fluctuate. Tweak.

CHANGE. Everything changes.

I hate it. I hate change. I always have. Even more than hating change, I hate not seeing a REASON for the change. Which makes it difficult sometimes, when the Creator of the universe doesn’t think I need to know the reason, or at least not at the moment I’m asking for it.

I think this opposition to change first started when my family moved away from my childhood home at the end of 7th grade. Try telling an emotional middle school girl, who was very comfortable in her small Christian school and church, that she was now one of 500 kids at a new school where she knew no one. Needless to say, it didn’t go over well. Fast forward eight years when my parents decided to move again, this time, right before my senior year of college. I was so angry. Not at my parents, really, but at God. I felt he had ripped home away from me the last year I really needed it. It took months for me to get over that anger. Those two moves were defining moments in my life (more on that later). Looking back 21 years and 13 years respectively, I can see how the Lord worked both of those moves out for my good. (Funny how He always seems to do that). He used change to direct my life where He needed it to go, but at the time, I didn’t like the change.

Change. It’s a part of life. It’s a part of MY life. But for some reason, it has felt like this year has held more change than ever. Changes I can’t seem to understand. Changes I don’t want to understand. Change. I still hate it!

However, as I continue to wrestle through that ever-present loathing of change, I am beginning to see a thawing in my attitude towards it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still not a fan. But, throughout this year, I have tried to more purposefully and consciously look back on what the Lord has done for me. As a history teacher, this was easy. I love looking back on the past. It is literally my job description. I now have 34 years to look back on and see how God has wisely and lovingly guided me through numerous expected and unexpected changes. My goal in the coming years is to remember that history. I spend my days telling kids to remember what He has done…it’s time I took my own advice! I have no better way to sum up this new focus and attitude, than a favorite quote of mine from the Chosen. Earlier this school year, I started to watch the Chosen for the first time, after years of one of my friends encouraging me to do so. I have not regretted it. In the Chosen episode when Peter walks on water, and Jesus pulls him from the waves, Jesus holds him tightly in the boat, and says to him, “I have much planned for you, Simon. Really hard things. Just keep your eyes on Me.” That quote has played over and over in my mind in the months since I first saw that episode. But now it has MY name in it. “I have much planned for you, Jessica Dawn. Really hard things. Just keep your eyes on Me.” Like it or not, ready or not, at some point everything changes…but you know what? I serve a God who is unchangeable. That thought grounds me more and more the older I get. MY Jesus “is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8)!

A year ago, just a few months before my 33rd birthday, I sat down and wrote, for lack of a better phrase, a personal historical account. A record of several specific ways I had seen the Lord give me the “desires of my heart” (Psalm 37:4). I am not going to rehash that whole account (if you are interested in reading that, I might be willing to share). The purpose of this account is to explain how some of the things from last year’s account have already changed, and what the Lord has taught me through those changes. What I did last year was make a list of all my responsibilities at school/work and prioritize them based on what I felt the Lord had called me to do at that point in my life. Below is an excerpt from last year’s previously mentioned “historical account”.

I want to be the absolute best middle school history teacher I can be. I have a few specific goals to work on in my classroom in the next few months to make that a reality. I want to be a better basketball coach, but more purposefully seeking out the girls on my teams who need the Lord and discipling those who already know Him. I want to keep serving the Lord here in Wilmington. I’ve struggled with this thought throughout the last couple years, about whether this is where I need to stay, but over and over God has made it clear- WIlmington, NC is where I’m supposed to serve. WCA is where God wants me to be.

Shocking no one, the top two most important responsibilities on my list were teaching history and coaching basketball. It’s been that way since I was in 4th grade. I’ve never had a question mark behind that statement. God wants me to teach history and coach basketball. Period.

Looking for it, or not. Change comes.

That has been the unexpected theme of my Year 33. I started last April with a heart fully dedicated to being purposeful in the areas God had called me to serve, and I do believe I have done that. But in the midst of that passionate pursuit to be purposeful, He threw me a curveball. Several curveballs actually, and the first one was only a month after writing my Year 33 “historical account”.

After much prayer and consideration, I decided not to coach basketball this school year. Anyone who truly knows me, knows how hard of a decision that was to make, and how massive of a change that was in my life. Honestly? I struggled internally with that for months and barely spoke about it to anyone. I had peace about it when I made the decision, and I still have that peace today, but that change was so hard to process. Again, I don’t like change, especially not when I don’t see a good reason for the change, which was the case in this situation. I still do not have all the answers for this one, and that’s ok. God never promised to give us all the answers. Habakkuk is a great example of someone who never got the answers to the changes he saw, and “yet,…” (Habakkuk 3:18), he focused not on the changes, but on the God who allowed the changes. Later, Paul encourages us to “set our affection on things above” (Colossians 3:2). Or as Jesus tells Simon in the Chosen, “Just keep your eyes on Me.” I love basketball, and I love coaching, but the Lord needed to teach me some things off the court this year, and I am going to walk forward confidently in this change.

The second major change began just a few months after my decision to step away from coaching. I knew from before this school year ever started that I would have to make a decision about whether I believed the Lord still wanted me at WCA. This one is hard. Wilmington is my home. I have moved so many times in my life (the two mentioned at the beginning of this document was only the start!). God must have smiled on 13 year old Jessica crying about leaving Chesapeake, VA because He knew He’d be moving me ten more times…well, Eleven. For the past eight years, I have known beyond the shadow of a doubt that the Lord wanted me in North Carolina at Wilmington Christian Academy. But with just as much confidence, I now know, my time at WCA has come to an end. The opportunity to teach with my Dad and Mom up in Green Bay became available and I know the Lord is calling me to take that opportunity. The Lord is moving me…again. Processing this change has been tough. There’s a lot of feelings that have been rising to the surface as the school year has progressed that I do not like (for example, the tears running down onto my t-shirt as I write this). And yet, in the midst of my emotional processing, I have a peace “that passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). I honestly can’t fully explain how confident and peaceful I feel about this decision, but it’s there. Please do not miss the irony of this situation, because it certainly has not been lost on me! Thirteen years ago, I was ANGRY at the Lord because He called my family away from Wilmington to go to Green Bay. We had only been in Wilmington for eight years, and I felt like I had been there my whole life. Wilmington WAS my life. Eight years ago, God brought me back to Wilmington as a teacher, and it has been wonderful. This was my “dream job” back in high school. I am so grateful for the time God allowed me to minister at WCA. But back to the irony… Now I have also made the decision to move away from Wilmington, my home- to the SAME place God took me kicking and screaming thirteen years ago. Again, the Lord must have smiled down on 21 year old Jessica knowing full well that the next time He asked this change of me, I’d respond differently. Wilmington will always be my home, but it’s time for the Lord to use me in a new ministry.

Just one year ago, I had several emphatic periods at the end of my purpose statements. I KNEW I was right where God wanted me to be. Little did I know those periods were actually supposed to be commas.

Modify. Replace. Fade. Update. Improve. Decrease. Alter. Develop. Transform. Revive. Correct. Shift. Amend. Vary. Fluctuate. Tweak. CHANGE. Everything changes.

I may not like change. I may not understand it. I may not be ready for it. But my God is unchanging and THAT is where I rest and find my peace in the midst of my questions and confusion and emotions. I was not prepared for either of these massive changes, but in closing, I want to challenge you with one more thought I have stolen from the Chosen and made my own. Matthew, the former tax collector turned disciple, tells a Roman officer that when he finds himself clouded with confusion, he stops and reminds himself, “I only have one thing to do today. Follow Him. Everything else seems to fall into place.”

This is the second year I have now written a “personal historical account”, reflection and purpose statement to guide my next year. Year 33 was my purposeful year. I am sitting here at the very beginning of Year 34, which I am now going to call my immutable year. It has been said that “there is nothing permanent in this world, except change.” Maybe that is true. But my goal this year is that I will continue to fix my eyes on the Old Rugged Cross as I seek to be faithful to the Immutable God who has given me the opportunity to serve Him. If I want to be like Jesus, that means, being immutable. Seasons, humans, technology, and culture changes, but my God remains the same- and asks the same of me. “Be ye steadfast, UNMOVEABLE, always abounding in the work of the Lord” (I Corinthians 15:58).

“I only have one thing to do today. Follow Him.”

Dear Ex,

It has been almost five years since I left you. I miss you still. You leave monthly whispers of alimony, and quarterly updates of your life since the abandonment.

I keep feeling that it is all too good for me. I left you in the worst possible way. I professed my love for someone else – someone I could never have, anyway.

I was flippant and psychotic about it, too. I got up and left one day, never to return.

I regret leaving you the way I did. Our marriage was dying a slow death. But I didn’t have to hack at your heart in one fell swoop.

I made you pack my belongings because I couldn’t bear to come back and do the deed myself.

Recently, I had a nightmare that the tables were turned. I was packing your stuff. Only then, did I realize what an impossible task I set you up with.

I stayed for 13 years because I thought the good outweighed the bad. The fun times seemingly overshadowed the screaming matches, the cruel use of semantic language.

You told me I was hard to love, that I was emotionally complex. That was your way of calling me a bitch.

I called you out on it. You confirmed the not-so-cryptic message.

But hey. We both had our unresolved traumas that we brought into our fights. Not even two years of couples therapy near the end of our marriage could foster effective communication skills.

We were both far too wounded to see past ourselves, yet we didn’t know where one of us ended and the other began. The intertwining and untangling happened at the most inopportune times.

You told me during our last quarterly update that you had forgiven me for my transgressions. I asked why, and you said that four-and-a-half years would be a long time to hold onto such emotional turmoil.

I realized then that I had not yet forgiven myself. Now, I listen to the 36-year-old part of me who left. I understand now.

That part of me was doing the best they could. They thought they were being merciful by finally ripping off the bandage and walking out on our eight-year marriage.

It was that moment that I could finally start to forgive myself.

Then, I listened to the 27-year-old part of me – the one simultaneously full of hope and doubt about our upcoming marriage. They whispered to me:

I love her so much. But I’m in too deep.

Had I loved myself then as much as I do now, I would have been merciful and cut the cord right then and there.

I put your happiness above my own.

And now I realize that you weren’t happy either. Not with me. And certainly not with yourself.

We sought love within each other, when we needed to look within ourselves first.

Had we done that, we might have been best friends for 18 years instead of fractured lovers for 13 years and separated souls for another five.

I forgive you, dear ex.

I also forgive myself.

You may not ever be my best friend again, but I will hold our fun times dearly.

Now, as tears well up in my eyes, I contemplate a future of being in a relationship with myself. After all, no other relationship will matter to me nearly so much.

I will probably never get married again, but I wish myself – and YOU – all the happiness in the world, finally.

And maybe soon, we will both achieve inner peace and tell each other all about it in our next quarterly update.

Dear Me:

You’ve come so far, you’ve struggled hard,
Yet somehow you’ve gone nowhere.

You’ve been in love, you’ve been a friend,
But still can’t find someone who cares.

It’s not your fault, you’ve tried your best,
But just can’t help to feel ashamed.

You broke their trust, they broke your heart,
Still you are not the one to blame.

Your roads been rough, your feet are worn,
Yet you still walk through thick and thin.

You deserve a break, you deserve to live,
Stuck in the past is where you’ve been.

You do know better, you know right from wrong,
Yet you still make the same mistakes.

But you do you, you must go on,
It’s your strong will they cannot break.

You’re a good man, you’ve just made bad choices,
Don’t let them be what defines you.

You write these words, you know them well,
Don’t let bad vibes be the ones that find you.

Just be yourself, and love yourself,
Slowly one day things will get better.

You can do this it’s the choice you made,
When times get tough just read this letter.

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food aint too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

He says “I’m flyin over Montana,
just dropped a load of rain.
I’m headed down to Dallas,
And then up to Maine.

No more haulin’ produce,
Gasoline or TVs.
Cause up here in Heaven,
I’m haulin’ prayers and dreams!”

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food aint too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

“This rigs as big as a mountain,
You can see me from where you are.
It’s no Freightliner, no Peterbilt,
It’s an actual Western Star!

My Jake-brake is the thunder,
The exhaust makes tornadoes!
Man, it means so much more
to be the king of the road,
where the streets are paved with gold!”

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food ain’t too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

I’d tell him that I miss him,
every single day.
“Wish you could just stop by,
and meet my wife,
when you pass by this way.”

He tells me not to worry,
That one day he’ll meet her.
But if we look up at night,
we can see the lights,
of his 18 wheeler!

I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
With a restaurant attached.
A salad bar and a buffet,
And a payphone in the back.

The coffee’s always hot,
And the food ain’t too bad.
I wish there was a truck stop in Heaven,
So I could talk to my Dad.

Dear Tarrell,
That night is something I’ll never forget. When you took your own life in front of me, my heart didn’t just break—it exploded. I felt something sacred tear away inside me. I would’ve done anything to stop it, but it was too late. You were gone, and in that moment, a piece of me died with you.
I don’t know how to put into words what it’s been like living without you. That night changed me forever. I can still hear the silence afterward—how loud it was, how final. I keep reliving it. I see your face, your pain, and I wonder why you couldn’t hold on just one more minute. I would’ve held you. I wanted to help you carry the pain.
You were not only my husband, but also my safe place. For the first time, I felt seen, heard, and truly loved. Tarrell, you brought me peace and made life easier, softer—until that night. Now, the world feels cold and hollow without you here.
The kids… God, the kids. You didn’t share their blood, but you gave them your whole heart. You were the father Adalynn had always dreamed of. Thank you for giving her something no one else ever could: the feeling of being wanted, chosen, and protected. She lit up around you. Her heart trusted you in ways I had never seen. The bond you two had—it was rare, beautiful, and real. Egypt adored you, too. She still talks about you and asks where you went. They don’t understand why you would leave us.
Nine months later, and it still feels like yesterday. I will forever hate Mondays and the 15th. We’re in therapy, all of us, and trying to piece ourselves back together. Nothing will ever be the same, and trying to find our new normal has been the biggest struggle for us. I’m not the same. PTSD, anxiety, panic attacks—I carry all of it now.
I know you were hurting. I know you were carrying so much that you couldn’t even find the words to tell me. I also know the Army made you feel you had to be strong all the time. That crying made you weak. That vulnerability was a failure. It never was. Crying, asking for help, falling into my arms—that would’ve been the bravest thing you ever did. I wish you had seen that. I wish you had believed that being emotional didn’t make you any less of a man. If anything, it would’ve made you even more of one.
I would’ve carried every ounce of your pain if it meant keeping you here. I would’ve done anything. You didn’t have to go through it alone. You were never alone. We loved you through it all—flaws, battles, shadows, and all. I just wish love had been enough to save you.
Now I’m left picking up the pieces—with the girls by my side—trying to create a new kind of life in a world I never wanted to know. One without you.
I love you so much. I miss you every second of every day. Tarrell, I always will.
Forever yours,

Letters Between a Father and Daughte
by Cindy Newcomer
Here is a brief intro for the following letters. My dad died quickly and unexpectedly from cerebral hemorrhage in 1967 at the age of 42. I was two years old at the time and have no conscious memory of him. Very little was ever mentioned about him in our home. To say that my mom was not the nurturing, motherly type is an understatement. Discussing feelings, grief and loss about his death were not a part of life. I was basically left to try to understand the loss and deal with it on my own. Needless to say, I have spent a lifetime with some complicated grief issues. Fast forward to 2015. Russ, my husband of 15 years, my soul mate and my best friend, died suddenly from a massive heart attack. Although I have dealt with many losses in my life, this one hit me hard. Since how we deal with present circumstances is influenced by our past experiences, grief issues with my dad’s death resurfaced. I was challenged to write a letter to my dad and then to write a letter from my dad to me. I have written several letters over the years to my dad but always from a child’s point of view. I decided I wanted to do this from today, as a 52-year-old woman. I must have started the letter over a half a dozen times. I just couldn’t do it. Then one day I was finally able to.
Dear Dad,
I have spent a lifetime thinking about you. Wondering what you would have been like, what our relationship would have been like, what my life would have been like. I would usually imagine what I guess would be almost a parallel universe in which you didn’t die when I was 2. That this is how I have thought of you and us, just dawned on me today. My life is very different because of everything that happened. I really have no idea who I would be or what I would be like had you lived. My life has been an amazing adventure. Some good, some bad – all of it combined to make me, well, me.
I have always been kind of mad because you left and you didn’t take me with you. After a mere 50 years, I think I have gotten over that one. I guess I want to say thank you for creating me. Even though you weren’t around, you did really shape and influence my life. The things I know about you are what I learned from mom, Grammy, some other family members and some of your friends and our neighbors. What I always heard from mom is that you were a hard worker, a hard drinker and went to church every Sunday. Those things became my goals when I was younger. I developed a strong work ethic, I drank like a damn fish and I went to church every Sunday. Even though at this point in my life, I disagree with much of the Catholic doctrine, the influence of the church might be what kept me alive and on this side of prison bars. With you not being around and well, mom being mom, I learned how to be self-reliant, independent, learned how to improvise and problem solve. I learned very early that life isn’t fair. It amazes me that I meet so many people who are adults who still think life should be fair. What the hell is fair??? That may be a lesson that is better learned at a young age. I think it is harder for people to accept when they get older.
During my teen years I really tried to emulate you. I can look back now and see how messed up some of the stuff I did really was. Even when I was in high school, I worked and drank almost every day. I would always make it to church either Saturday night or Sunday morning. Granted, sometimes I was still drunk from the night before. After I graduated I frequently worked two to three jobs. From 18 to 20, it wasn’t unusual for me to work 60 to 70 hours in a week. Damn, would love to have that money again. I would pay mom rent money, then the rest usually got spent on alcohol, drugs, music and cigarettes. Somehow, I think you would have put a boot to my ass for that.
I was told by Grammy and Uncle Lynn that you were the type of man that would help anyone if you could. I have tried to be that way. It has gotten me into some trouble on a few occasions, but I still think it is a good way to live. Grammy also told me that you were direct. When you had something to say, you said it. That one has really bit me in the ass a few times. Discretion is not always my strong suit.
Back to when I was a teen. I knew you had been in the military so I joined the Army Reserves on my 18th birthday. A big part of my motivation to do that was to follow in your footsteps. It wasn’t until many, many years later that Aunt Mary told me that you didn’t really like women being in the military. Oops, sorry. I was just winging it. I didn’t have you to bounce this shit off of.
I can’t imagine how different things would have been and who I would be today without the life I have lived. It isn’t like I can take the parallel universes in which you live and the real world, have them side by side and only pick the good from each one. It would be a cool trick and an awesome science fiction movie, but it isn’t reality. I have two amazing kids. Not sure how you would feel about either of them though. You are from a generation that espoused some old school ideas and values. Their lives fit into more modern-day times of acceptance. They are amazing human beings though and I am so proud of both. They have been through some serious adversity in their lives and they continue to have good hearts and are amazing people. They are both smart, resilient, hardworking, caring, kind and just good people. You have a great granddaughter. She is so adorable. Your great grandson is on the way and is due on July 4th. (Yeah, I know, that is your and mom’s wedding anniversary.)
It is weird. All my life, I have believed that when I die, you and I will be together and I will get to see you. Regardless of all the manifestations of my beliefs in religion and spirituality, and no matter how I define a Higher Power, this has always remained a constant. I don’t even really know what I believe as far as an afterlife. The whole heaven and hell things just confuse me. I don’t know. Even though I don’t know, I still have the childlike vision of you and me hanging out in heaven that kind of looks like a cartoon or a sappy greeting card. I remember when I was younger and a relative said that playing cards was the work of the devil and we were all going to hell. Even then I envisioned us just sitting around a table playing cards in hell. Apparently, the cards we were using were fire-proof. It is weird to think of some of these things as an adult and see them for what they are. Childhood thoughts and fantasies. Even today, I still have a belief that we will be together. I have that wish to be with Russ again, but I don’t have that belief with the same conviction that I do with you. Plus, even though I have lost so many people in my life, you and Russ are the only two that I think that way about.
This is such a new and strange way of thinking. I guess it is more from an adult perspective rather than being stuck with a childlike perspective. Hey, that reminds me, I wrote you a letter one time when I was around 6 or 7. I even put it in an envelope, addressed it to Heaven and rode my bike to the Post Office to mail it. I wonder what I wrote in that.
I love you dad. I love the image of you, the thought of you. I love the thought that you loved me and you wanted me. I have tried to live my life in a way that would make you proud of me. I am sure I let you down a few times. Hopefully though overall, I am a person that you would like, love and be proud to call your daughter.
I love you,
Cindy
Within a few days of writing this letter, I went to a Reiki circle. Now I must clarify that Reiki is such a mystery to me. I have gone probably about a dozen or more times. I still want to be skeptical of it but I have fallen in love with it. The benefits I have received from it have been mind-blowing. Anyhow, I was driving home after the Reiki circle and the letter from my dad to me just started to formulate in my head. When I got back to where I was staying, I put on some music, closed my eyes and just started typing. When I got out of my own way, I was able to receive this letter from my dad.
Dear Cindy,
I never left you. I have been in your heart the whole time. I know that sometimes you are able to feel me there. Other times, you ignore that I am there. My love for my baby girl has never gone away. I didn’t want to leave you, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was just my time. I couldn’t take you with me nor would I have wanted to;, you were a baby. Think about it, would you have been willing to take one of your kids along at that young age or even now? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Stop worrying about whether or not I am proud of you. YES, I am proud of you. Do I completely understand you, oh hell no. But then we are from two very different generations. The whole therapy, support group, reiki, meditation, essential oils, I won’t even pretend to understand that shit. I can say that as far as the therapy and support group goes, I guess it isn’t much different than me sitting with my buddies at the bar and talking to the bartender. Just you do it without the beer. Concept is pretty much the same though. Back to me being proud of you. You need to let that shit go. You are a smart, caring, kind person. You help others and keep your door open to anyone who needs a place, a hug or just a place to hang out. Your Grammy was that way too.
You take pride in the fact that so many people have told you that you are a lot like me. I want you to think about that for a minute. The people that you know that are like one of their parents, haven’t they spent a good deal of time butting heads with that parent because they are so much alike? I am sure we would have had our share of that. You can be too bull-headed, stubborn and independent for your own damn good. I am sure I would have booted you in the ass a few times.
It is time you move forward. I know you have missed me and that is ok. But it is time to stop using it as a crutch or an excuse to stay stuck. You are a grown-ass woman at this point. You can’t go back and change the past. Hold onto the stories and the love that I gave you while I was there. You still have it in there; just allow yourself to acknowledge it and feel it. I am a part of you and always will be, just like you are a part of your children. Again, would you want them to suffer and stay stuck about something the way you have over my death? No, I know you wouldn’t. You are a good parent and you love your kids, just like I loved you.
I know that somehow you have rationalized that staying stuck and not letting go is a way for you to remain loyal to me. It isn’t what I want. I want you to heal. Yeah life sucks sometimes, I mean hell, look at what all your Grammy went through. You still whining all these years later about the fact that I died when you were a baby doesn’t do anyone any good. It isn’t showing any sort of loyalty to me. That is your twisted thinking. It is time you let me go. I don’t mean forget about me. Let go of the wish that I was still alive or that I had lived longer. Accept my death for what it is. I loved you with my heart and soul while I was there. Just like you want your kids to carry your love for them in their hearts and souls long after you are gone, the same goes for me.
I will agree with you, it sucks that we didn’t get to spend more time together. But yet again, all the holding on, dreaming, wishing, hoping isn’t going to change the reality of what happened.
Let me go, and move forward with your life. Know that I love you, always have and always will. I am proud of you. You have gone through some shit and yet you still have compassion for others. You are a Bechdel through and through. We are a hearty bunch, strong and resilient. Don’t ever forget that. It is ok to let go. There is no shame in that. I know you aren’t letting go of me and even if you were, I am still not letting go of you. I am still a part of you.
I love you,
Dad

Sixty paces—the distance between the wear marks on the porch windowsill
to the stone coping beneath the cherry blossoms.

From cold, wet nose kisses, punctuated by toe taps,
to the pungent pansies that now adorn his earthly bed.

Four feet—forty-eight inches—the space from his head to my lap.

Yet—when I close my eyes, I’m met by his tender gaze.
I feel the weight of his head, the damp jowls,
the velvet of his coat against my skin.

His warmth—lifting the weight of the day.

A kindred spirit, whose friendship I never questioned.

Sixty paces—a heart-rending farewell,
and a heartfelt hope: “I’ll be seeing you.”

april 21
a journal on fulfillment
unfortunately, I have spent a great deal of my thoughts on the ponderance of what it means to be fulfilled. how we quantify it, test it, live it. most of my 11:11 wishes wish for fulfillment. I know I’m not supposed to give away what I wish for, but that’s not all of it. I’ll keep the rest a secret. I’m under the belief that the majority of people die unfulfilled. the sole thought of going hungry, going broke, going homeless, terrifies people more than the feeling of never finding anything they are passionate about, never falling in love, never feeling like themselves, never feeling as if they’re living out their truth.

I fear both.

but I fear never following my passion more. it’s scary to know that money has to be earned and there is no task I currently wish to do in exchange for cash. purpose is so subjective yet as a society, I feel we have found a way to objectify purpose and place it in a see-through box to be displayed. everyone is looking at you, the pressure is on. inside the box, you must do what is subjectively providing a value that has money as currency. I’d rather have fulfillment as currency, get paid in love, joy, contentment, on my own terms. I choose to validate my inner truths rather than suppress them as I believe everyone ought to spend enough of their life digging deep enough within to understand who they are. instead of letting the world tell you. the world tells everyone who to be when they listen to it. but your soul will tell you who to be if you choose to listen to yourself. I think you can only hear yourself when you allow enough quiet, the only thing you can hear is your own production of thoughts, ones that were not placed in your brain externally but created in original form, strictly for your own acknowledgement.

I think a lot of people fear the quiet because they do not like to face the truths of self. most people are numbing themselves with alcohol, drugs, smoking, hooking up with strangers, partying, everyone seems to have a vice. it’s socially acceptable, even. but what is the true motive behind all of these? most people are deeply uncomfortable with the thoughts that arise when they allow enough silence in order for them to do so. and everything has a cost. everything is an energy exchange, for good or for bad.

when I was in the worst mental position I have ever been in, I hated being alone. I wanted to fill every silence, spend as much time with others, and numb all my thoughts with drinking, partying, or even eating. we find comfort externally to mask the internal turmoil we are destined to feel at some point in our lives. but acceptance of the good and the bad will allow the upheaval of the bad. as when you accept the dark parts of you, you shine a little light on them. over time, they transform to light. you can create life from death. there is renewal in endings. there is a golden nugget in everything that sucks. but if you spend too much time ignoring the darkness, you will never know how well the light within you shines.

it’s so easy to follow a path and I wish there was one that made sense for me to follow. it would allow be much easier. but I feel as if I have gotten too comfortable with the depths of myself that I can never go to a surface level to complete a mission not created by the innerworkings of my soul. I’m too deep into the acknowledgement of who I am to skip over, neglect, those parts of me. whatever I end up doing in life has to touch my soul in some way. and maybe that will allow me to open up as a vessel of light to others. or maybe it will only go as deep as to shine through myself, never reach anyone. I think my purpose will someday reach others through myself, but maybe it won’t.

nonetheless, in order to feel as if you have a reason to live, you have to feel like you are fulfilling a purpose or achieving something. that looks different for everyone. but in general, working towards any sort of goal provides meaning in your daily life. I truly believe those who take their own life felt as though day to day life was not fulfilling. they felt as if everything they were working towards had no meaning, a complete lack of passion or care for how they were spending their time. the exchange of their time was not providing any sort of deeper satisfaction. a complete lack of satisfaction. that’s why I think even people who are depressed, when they are working towards something, never switch over to being suicidal. because they have a reason to be alive every day. I have met a handful of people in my lifetime who have openly admitted to being suicidal in their life at some point. and they said the reason they never did it was because they felt like they still had some sort of reason to be alive. for some people, they started training for something like a marathon or even just a weight loss journey, and every day, it gave them a reason to be alive. some people have a pet they have to feed every day; and if not them, the pet would not be alive. or they have a promotion they are working for, and it gives them purpose day to day.

but the key to this point is that you have to like what you’re doing, feel as though it is fulfilling a part of you that has been empty. people who feel directionless, or as if they are fulfilling someone else’s dream are more likely to be depressed, or even suicidal. that’s why the distinction of the soul’s desires from worldly placement is astronomically important.

we actually have a very long life to live and that often gets ignored in the urgency of chasing money. motives have been skewed to the value you can provide for others rather than the value you can find within yourself.

the debate I have been internally struggling with for some time is whether or not my personal fulfillment is worth the potential external failure. on the outside looking in, dropping everything and going broke to do the Camino de Santiago sounds reckless and a waste of time. but my purpose comes from soul searching, spending time with the Creator, and feeling within myself. the woods are my element and the answers of what it means to be human, for me at least, exist within them. walking every day from Albergue to Albergue will provide my purpose. and mine alone. for I claim my own direction. while walking every day provides no benefit for the world around me, the world inside me will be nurtured in a way money cannot buy.

that’s the problem, we focus on the things money can buy. we assign value in what can be purchased by paper we earned in exchange for our time. we are told not to focus on anything else as most people feel like spending time delving into the significance of human existence has no real intrinsic value. as they fear the confrontation of any spirituality. but I would argue the sole reason we are here is to uncover all the parts of our soul that are flooded with meaningless jargon pressured upon us as a distraction from who we really are and why we’re here.

when we leave the earth behind, you’ll die with all the things you have acquired. and if you spent a lifetime creating a soul that will ever last death, your fear of death will evaporate. but those finding fulfillment in chasing wealth and materialistic things to quantify, will fear death, likely laying on their deathbed thinking of all the things they should have done, the things that once mattered to them that perhaps had no external, objective value.

when I look back on the 24 years I’ve lived thus far, all my most rewarding and valuable moments have not earned me any money or have provided me with anything tangible. they have all been moments that I felt my soul was nurtured. that’s what life is all about. nurturing our soul and dying with moments that live on.

Let go.
Let go—
of people who no longer walk beside you,
of things that weigh down your spirit,
of places that no longer feel like home.
Let go—
of the self you no longer recognize,
of the inner voice that whispers doubt,
of labels that confine your essence.
Let go—
of habits that dim your light,
of relationships that drain your energy,
of mistakes etched in yesterday’s shadows.
Let go—
of the past that clings,
of the future that looms,
of the fear that stifles the present.
Let go—
of perspectives that no longer serve,
of wounds that ache in silence,
of hurts that echo in your heart.
Let go—
of your first love’s memory,
of your last love’s goodbye,
of the scarcity mindset that limits your abundance.
Let go—
of all that was once known,
of truths that no longer resonate,
of anything that doesn’t align with your soul today.
Let go—
to move forward,
to welcome unwritten chapters,
to embrace the story only you can write.

Hello.
Hello—
to new faces that light up your path,
to new things that spark joy,
to new places that feel like belonging.
Hello—
to beginnings that stir excitement,
to opportunities that beckon growth,
to chances that invite courage.
Hello—
to loves that nurture,
to abundance that flows freely,
to the present that grounds you.
Hello—
to yourself,
to your essence,
to the life you are destined to live.

Let go—
to surrender to your journey,
to trust in your becoming,
to write the story that is uniquely yours

Evil is not an entity. It is not a being, nor a force that moves on its own. It does not float through the universe, waiting to strike. Evil is born. And it is born inside us—not as something separate but as something we create, shape, and give life to through emotions we fail to control, thoughts we refuse to confront, and actions we justify in moments of weakness.

At the root of every evil act, you will find a wounded emotion—someone betrayed, angered, humiliated, or broken. In that moment of pain, they make a choice. A choice that carries weight. A choice that alters reality.

The Role of Emotions in the Birth of Evil

Emotions are tools, nothing more. They are meant to guide us, like a compass navigating the currents of life. But just like fire, they can either warm and illuminate or burn and destroy. And here lies the truth: Evil is never born from happiness. It is a byproduct of suffering.

A person who is happy, at peace, and fulfilled naturally makes choices that align with harmony. It is rare—almost impossible—for a truly happy person to intentionally harm someone. Evil does not breed in joy. It breeds in pain.

Pain clouds judgment, poisons logic, and blinds the spirit. It convinces a person that destruction is justified, that revenge is righteous, that cruelty is strength. Pain is the doorway where evil enters.

Think about it:

• When does a man decide to kill? When his anger, fear, or jealousy blinds him.
• When does a woman decide to destroy? When betrayal, bitterness, or grief consumes her.
• When does a child become cruel? When their suffering teaches them that cruelty is power.

Pain fuels destruction. And the greater the pain, the stronger the reaction. This is why when a person is deeply hurt, their immediate decisions are almost never rational. Their actions come from raw emotion, not thought.

Now, some will ask: What about those who are born evil? The ones who harm without reason? The ones who kill without provocation?

The answer is simple: No one is born evil. But some are programmed to become it.

The Generational Cycle of Evil

Some people do not need pain to be cruel. They do not need betrayal to deceive, nor loss to destroy. Their actions seem driven by something deeper, something instinctual. But even they are not born evil. They are programmed into it.

• A child raised in chaos learns chaos as truth.
• A mind exposed to cruelty accepts cruelty as normal.
• A soul deprived of love forgets what love feels like.

This is how evil moves through generations—not as an inherent trait, but as a repeated pattern. The sins of the past embed themselves in the present, rewriting the mind before it has a chance to form independently.

And unless broken, this pattern continues, spreading like a disease across bloodlines, across civilizations, across time itself.

Yet, there is always a choice. Always.

No programming is absolute. No destiny is fixed. Even the deepest darkness can be undone—but only by those who see it. And this is why most do not change—because they do not recognize the chains they wear.

The Illusion of Justified Evil

Here is where things get dangerous: Most people who commit evil do not believe they are doing wrong.

Evil does not announce itself. It does not say, I am destruction. Instead, it whispers:

• I am justice.
• I am necessary.
• I am right.

No one believes they are the villain in their own story.

• The man who seeks revenge believes he is delivering justice.
• The leader who oppresses people believes he is securing order.
• The woman who manipulates others believes she is protecting herself.

This is the great deception—evil rarely sees itself as evil.

When emotion controls the mind, logic bends to fit its desires. And when logic bends, reality distorts—a distortion where cruelty becomes necessary, where harm becomes justified, where destruction becomes an act of self-righteousness.

The greatest evils in history were not committed by people who thought they were wrong. They were committed by those who believed they were right.

But the truth is simple:

If your pain is controlling your decisions, you are not in control. You are being controlled.

How to Break Free from the Cycle of Evil

If emotions give birth to evil, then the only way to fight evil is to master emotions.

Not to suppress them—not to pretend they don’t exist—but to understand them and use them wisely.

1. Recognize your triggers. What emotions make you react instantly without thinking?
2. Pause before action. The biggest mistakes in life happen because people act in the heat of emotion. Learn to wait. Learn to breathe.
3. Detach from the illusion of control. Many people act out of pain because they feel powerless. But power does not come from controlling others—it comes from controlling yourself.
4. Rewrite your programming. If your bloodline has a history of destruction, it is up to you to end it. Awareness is the first step. Choice is the second. Action is the third.
5. Do not trust your emotions in the moment of pain. If you make decisions while you are hurt, angry, or afraid, you are handing your power to the very thing you are trying to escape.

Final Thought: The Truth About Evil

Evil is not a monster hiding in the dark. It is not an external force waiting to attack.

It is simply what happens when emotion overpowers wisdom.

No one is born evil.

But anyone can become it.

The question is—who is in control? You or your emotions?