Riding the Wave!

Visiting with a friend the other day, we started talking about things we're afraid of. I used to be scared of everything. I lived in California but never went into the ocean, let alone learn to surf, because I was afraid of what might be in the water. I tried to learn to snow ski but couldn't force myself to just point in a downhill direction and go. Trampolines? Forget it. Tall buildings? Count me out. I didn't get my driver's license until I was 18 because I was afraid of the instructor. I made it all the way through college and graduate school without ever taking an entrance exam, (no,the schools weren't very happy when the realized it) for fear I wouldn't do well on the math portion of the test.

And then there were the other, perhaps deeper fears. When I was in high school, the only thing I wanted was to be popular. I wouldn't be myself because I feared people wouldn't like me. Instead, I tried to imitate others. The end result, of course, was that I seemed fake and nobody really knew me.

But as I grow older I find I'm less frightened, not only for my physical safety, but for my emotional safety as well. These days I really don't care all that much what people think of me. I don't know if it comes with age or with simply accepting myself for who I am. Perhaps it was finally running that 5k I always talked about. Could be my small successes at work, as a mom, or as a friend. Whatever it is that's changed me, it's been very liberating. It felt so good to lay all that angst down and just walk away.

So, the next time somebody offers me a balloon ride, I'm going up. Paddleboarding? I'm there. Hiking in bear-infested woods...pause for thought...yeah, give me a loud bell and some bear repellent and I'd even take that on. And if I ever get the chance again, I'm going surfing.Rock on!

Dreaming of Arick

Carly, Maggie and Arick

"Death is but the next great adventure." J.K. Rowling

Why is it that some of us are visited by loved ones who have passed away and others are not? I had that very discussion last night with a woman who lost her son at age 19, some 15 years ago. Arick died of a rare type of cancer just 10 months after he was diagnosed. It's hard to imagine how devastating that would be for any parent.

Two days after he died, his mom Julie had a vivid dream in which she was sitting in the living room of a farm house that she had once lived in years earlier. In the dream, she says Arick sat down beside her, picked up her hand and just patted it.

"The first thing I noticed was that he was fully grown.," Julie says. "He hadn't been when we lived in that house. And he had hair! He didn't when he died. I remember turning away to tell his dad that he was there, and when I looked back he was gone and  immediately I was wide awake," So I asked her why she had that experience when others who were also grieving did not. Turns out I'm not the first person who's asked her that.

"I think it was because I needed that experience. For comfort. And he knew it." It wasn't the only time she's felt his presence.

"Shortly after he died I was at home alone, downstairs by myself when I heard the radio coming from upstairs. It was his radio. So I went up and shut it off," she tells me. "I went back downstairs and before I could get back to what I was doing, it turned on again. I went back up there and said, 'Arick, that's enough,' and it stopped."

Arick's sister also dreamed that he came and sat beside her on the couch,when she was going through her own illness. All he said was, "It's tough, isn't it?" But Julie says Maggie felt enormously comforted by it.

And one of Arick's friends actually saw him. She was going to college at NDSU where he had been a student. She was walking home and she heard stomping behind her. She turned to look but nobody was there. She walked again and again heard the stomping. This time when she turned around, she told Julie that Arick was standing there with a big, goofy grin on his face. And she said he was wearing this weird stocking cap with long tails on either side.

"When she told us that my sister said, 'Oh my God!' That was a hat that he used to wear." It turns out that this girl had a medical problem of her own and was scared about it. Julie thinks Arick was once again comforting someone he cared about.

She says she still feels his presence every once in a while, and while she can't prove it, she believes he makes it his mission to offer comfort. And she's received another important gift from her son. She has lost her fear of death.

"Don't get me wrong," she said. "It's not that I want to die, but I'm not afraid of it like I used to be. I know who's there, waiting for me." She says it with conviction and some pretty intense love.

https://www.amazon.com/Gift-Death-Message-Comfort-Hope/dp/0692745610/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1474596023&sr=8-1&keywords=gift+of+death

Looking Into the Eyes of God While Sitting in a Bookstore

We search so hard for answers to the questions of eternity, and yet, when it comes time to talk about it, we shut down. Yesterday I spent a wonderful two hours in the company of friends and family at a bookstore, signing books. As always happens, people stepped up to share their stories of death, near death and the pain of losing a loved one.

One beautiful woman knelt down beside me at the table and told me in a quiet voice about her father's recent illness. He recently came near to death and when he was coming out of anesthesia, he said something that troubled her. Basically, he said he was "broke down" and mentioned leaving. It wasn't clear to her what he meant, whether he was ready and wanted to go or whether he didn't want her to be there. Either idea brought tears to her eyes. We chatted a moment about some possibilities, but in the end I suggested she just ask him. I hope she did. Hospice workers have told me that bringing up the topic and giving people a chance to talk about their concerns can be a huge relief to all concerned.
I'm told that leaving a loved one can be the hardest part of dying. I take comfort in knowing that we're parting for a blink of an eye when you look at it in terms of eternity.
https://www.amazon.com/Gift-Death-Message-Comfort-Hope/dp/0692745610/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1474221661&sr=8-2&keywords=gift+of+death

I was on North Dakota Today today, as a guest rather than the co-host. An odd experience being in the interview seat, after so many years of doing the interviewing myself. But fun! If you want to see the interview, go here.

http://www.kfyrtv.com/ndtoday/content/news/Monicas-new-book-Gift-of-Death-393588341.html

Renita Brannan Interviews Me About My Book

Be Not Afraid

There is a home in Wilmington, Delaware run by the Ministry of Caring. Fr. Ronald Giannone works there, mainly with people who are dying of AIDS. He tells me that people too often come into the home depressed and in despair. The pain he sees is more emotional than physical, even though the patients are dying of their illness. He says they are often ostracized by family because of their lifestyle choices -- and the belief that their illness was caused by their own behavior. They feel abandoned.

A big part of the work he and his team do is to reconcile these people with their loved ones, and when it happens, the patients can relax and turn from their regrets. But even when reconciliation doesn't happen, they receive the love of the family formed by their fellow patients and the workers at the Ministry of Caring. He says this love changes everything. The halls of the home are not somber, but joyful. When people die, they are mourned, but celebrated, too. Every day is a celebration of the gifts of God.

Even more important than the love of others, is the constant message that they are the children of a God who will never stop loving them, and will always welcome them home. I thought of this as I listened today to the Gospel of the Prodigal Son, thankful that it is true for all of us.  Luke 15:11-34

Spinning Toward the Great Beyond, Unafraid. But Then....

Have you seen the movie, Sully, yet? Here's the trailer:
https://youtu.be/mjKEXxO2KNE
It deals with the pilot who landed his passenger jet on the Hudson River after hitting a flock of geese. Nobody wants to go down in a plane crash because you have to face your terror on the way to the ground. But I've also talked with people who have been in life-threatening situations who weren't frightened at all...while it was happening.

In fact, it happened to me. I remember as a young woman I was riding as a passenger in the front seat of a hot little sports car. The car was mine, actually, and normally I would have been driving it but I had a headache and so my companion volunteered to take the wheel. It was a snowy day and the road was covered in slush -- not an unusual scenario in a North Dakota winter. I hunkered down in my seat and closed my eyes. I opened them again when my friend started to panic. We were passing a semi and it was throwing slush onto our windshield. She thought the truck was drifting into our lane so she slammed on the brakes. We started to spin, fortunately away from the truck, but into the ditch.

And it was at that moment that I realized I was not wearing my seatbelt. I remember clearly thinking, "Great, the one time in my adult life when I forget to buckle up, and this happens. I'm going to die." The spin went on for only seconds. The car had a low center of gravity, and didn't flip. Add to that the fact that the ditch had two feet of snow in it, and we came to a fairly sudden stop. And THEN, I got scared. But during the spin I was not frightened at all. My thoughts were clear. So is it death itself that's scary, or the lingering thought of it that frightens people so much?

I think it's the thought. Because I've heard over and over again from people who are nearing death, and those who have been with people facing death, that in the final moments that fear goes away and peace takes over. You'll meet some of them in my new book.

Gift of Death -- A Message of Comfort and Hope

Silanus Casey and the Baby's Face

When I was carrying my first baby, the midwife hired by the hospital to help me through my labor told me I would remember the night she was born for the rest of my life, and I do, every moment of it. When I saw her face for the first time I thought she was perfect, the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. Don't all mom's think that? Here she is at 3 months.

Friendships can happen anywhere, and I made a new one on a cruise ship during a Transatlantic crossing. It was a long cruise, and this woman and I had a lot of time to talk. During one of those discussions, we compared notes on our children and pulled out our pictures as moms tend to do. Her daughter was a beautiful woman in her mid 50s, with red hair and green eyes. Imagine my surprise when she shared with me that this lovely woman had been born with a bright red birthmark that covered her left cheek. This mother also thought her daughter was beautiful, but she knew that life can be hard for those who are different. So she set about to find a cure.

Doctors tried various methods to reduce the redness, but nothing could make it go away. Her parents finally took their little girl to a priest they had heard about, Fr. Solanus Casey, a holy man with a reputation for working miracles. He was quite old by then. This was in the mid to late 50s, shortly before his death. Fr. Casey took the little girl from her mother's arms and laid her on the altar of his church. He prayed for a moment and then handed her back to her mother. He didn't promise a cure. He simply told them not to worry. So they didn't.

The woman said the birthmark didn't fade right away. But it started to slowly lighten, and one day was gone. That wasn't the miracle, though. She said the miracle was that the little girl's mother stopped fretting about it. The encounter strengthened her family's faith and was a lesson in simply trusting that God has us in the palm of his hand. The little girl with the birthmark went on to have a very successful and happy life.

Fr. Casey was a fascinating guy. To find out more about him, go here:

http://www.solanuscasey.org/portal.php