Old Southern Soul: 2014

Sunday, May 25, 2014

The Golden Shoes

In early spring I bought my 2 year old a pair of gold loafers from Gap. They were the cutest shoes on her and she seemed to think they were "cool" as well... She wore them every chance she got and they were definitely worth the $35 price tag... Other Moms out there know that little toddler feet grow very fast and that $35 for a pair of shoes that she might not wear long is a lot. Anyway, she wore the gold shoes several times and one evening in late April I ran out to the car to get the shoes (she had slipped them off on the car ride home and I had forgotten to grab them), I was very upset to realize that there was only one shoe in the car! Had it fallen out somewhere? Had it been thrown away when the boy had cleaned out the trash from the our road trip from my car? I went inside and told my husband that I was going to dig through the trash bags for the shoe only to find out that he had already made a trip to the dump. I was so upset and so was she! For several weeks I kept an eye out for the missing shoe... I was so upset! $35 and our favorite little shoes were gone just like that!

After a few weeks of mourning the lost shoe I decided that I just had to order more. They went with everything, were so cute, and we just couldn't do without them! I ordered them and they seemed to take FOREVER to get here. I waited for the UPS truck daily, hoping that the little gilded loafers could once again complete her outfits. The shoes finally came yesterday and I was so excited! I showed her and she literally let out a squeal of delight! Our lives were again complete... ha!

Today after sleeping in and spending a leisurely morning with the family, I ran out to pick up lunch. As we gathered around the long farm house table in our dining room, my 9 year old son excitedly announced that he had found the missing gold shoe. I laughed and explained that I had purchased another pair, but thanked him for not forgetting to keep an eye out for it... He was convinced that he had really found it, and I just played along because it was utterly impossible that the shoe would turn up after this long. I told him to show me the shoe, assuming that I could just say "See I told you!" He ran into the living room and emerged holding the missing left shoe and then ran into the mudroom to gather the other three golden shoes. I couldn't believe it! I had searched high and low for that shoe before ordering more! It had been thrown away, this couldn't be! I shook my head as I looked at $70 worth of shoes. Two identical pairs... How had this happened?

Often times when I'm cooking, fixing my hair, folding laundry, or doing anything that doesn't require a ton of thought I will listen to Abraham-Hicks, Channeling Erik/Jamie Butler & Dr. Medhus, or Kryon on YouTube. I was fixing my hair a little while ago, listening to the thunderstorm outside of my window, and enjoying some Abraham, and as I listened to Esther's voice talk about resistance and it just clicked! Think about it this way-- when the shoe was lost I was really upset about it. It probably sounds silly, but I was quite tormented over the fact that shoe had disappeared. I rarely pay that much for shoes and the one time that I did we lost it! I had never lost a shoe before... Why did it have to be one of our favorite pairs that went missing? All of these thoughts are forms of RESISTANCE. I was holding myself apart from finding the shoe! For four weeks I "kept an eye out" for that missing shoe and stayed upset with myself over it. The very next day after the new pair came it finally turned up. That is not a coincidence! It took me releasing the resistance over losing it and not having it for it to finally be available for us to find. I can't tell you how many times I've dug through that toy bucket with my two year old, the exact place that it turned up!

What kinds of things are you holding yourself apart from? Losing weight? Earning tons of money? Finding a significant other? That other cute shoe??? No matter what it is, think about it in terms of my little shoe ordeal to understand it. I held resistance over the fact that I had lost it and over the fact that I had paid so much for, and it wasn't until I let go of that resistance (by getting another pair and finally releasing those feelings) that I was able to come attract that other shoe into my life.

Call me crazy, but this really put a lot of stuff into perspective for me! Had I been able to just release resistance that I didn't even realize I had about the shoe, I would've found it a long time ago... I would've saved myself $35 (in stay at home mom standards that is a fifth of my weekly grocery budget!), and I wouldn't have basically blocked myself from finding the lost shoe. I wonder how many other "good things" I am holding myself apart from? It really makes me want to release some major resistance!

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Bedtime Hypnosis Script

I remember lying in bed with the boys when they were toddlers and telling them bedtime stories. We were on a weird schedule because at the time my husband worked second shift and I was a stay-at-home mama. They would sleep late and go to bed even later, I was young and carefree and didn't really know much about schedules and I was just playing life by ear. I remember some nights, when I couldn't get them to sleep, I would be so tired that I could barely make it through a bedtime story. Sometimes, just to make it easy on myself, I would say that the main character of the story came across a tree and decided to count the leaves. I could count without putting much thought into it, and it seemed to put them to sleep because it was too boring.

Recently while telling my little two year old daughter a story I remembered those nights with the boys-- counting stars and leaves and everything but sheep. I thought about how hypnosis uses backwards counting and wondered if I could utilize my hypnotism on getting her to sleep faster... Hypnosis is completely safe and the end result is relaxation, or in her case sleep. Since this has worked every night for a week, I decided to see if other people had luck with it too!

You can change up the story, but just use the script as a guide for how to count down and little "hypnotic" phrases to use... Enjoy!

.....................................................................................................................................................

Once upon a time there was a girl named Mary. Mary took care of sheep in a big field and it was her job to count them every night before bed. She knew how important this job was because she didn't want any of her beloved sheep to wander off and get lost! One night Mary was so tired that she could hardly keep her eyes open when she remembered that she needed to count her sheep. She \had a long day and her tummy was full from a tasty dinner, and she knew that as soon as she finished counting that she could fall asleep for the night... The sky was filled with stars and the grass was soft beneath her as she settled in to count her sheep.

Mary had eighty sheep and she decided to count backwards starting at eighty... Every time a sheep had been counted it would come and curl up beside Mary and fall asleep.

80
79
78
77
76
75
74
73
72
71
70

She was very tired and began to yawn (I often yawn myself to encourage her to yawn, and she always does!)

69
68
67
66
65
64
63
62
61
60

Her eyes were getting heavier as she counted the fluffy white sheep

59
58
57
56
55
54
53
52
51
50
49
48
47
46
45
44
43
42
41
40

She was halfway there and knew that she could go to sleep when she finished counting. The sheep were soft and warm and she could hear them snoring around her.

39
38
37
36
35
34
33
32
31
30
29
28
27
26
25
24
23
22
21
20

Mary's eyes were so heavy, and it was almost time for her to go to sleep

19
18
17
16
15
14
13
12
11
10

Almost finished, almost time to sleep with her comfy pile of sheep

9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1

She had counted all of the sheep, they were all safe and warm, and now it was time to say "Good night."

Now of course she is always asleep by the time I get into the 30s and so is my husband! I just say it in a sing songy and quiet voice. It works every time! You can use your imagination and change the story to suit the interests of your child. I have used stars and described a camping trip, we've used a rocket and a trip to the moon, and honestly the possibilities are endless!

If you try this and it works for you please comment below or email me at lgoldenjohnson @gmail.com! I'd love to hear from you! :)

His Life As: A Buffalo Soldier

Background:
My eleven year old had not had a past life regression in awhile and agreed to sit down with me the other night. I have to stay in practice, ya know! He always goes into trance very quickly, so it wasn't long before we were on our way into another past life.

PLR:
After I could tell that he was deep enough, I led him down a river of time and into a past life. As he set foot into that lifetime I asked him to identify who he was and he immediately said "I'm a buffalo soldier! A black guy with a beard..." I felt surprised and ashamed that I didn't know anything about buffalo soldiers... After awhile I realized that he was an African American Slave who was going to fight for his country. He didn't have a family, they had all been separated, and he was very sad about it. It strikes me odd that we had so many lifetimes as slaves, but I guess we all would have been incarnating in the same timeframe together since we are family members... Anyway, he didn't know his name, but he knew that he was a slave who was now a soldier wearing a navy blue uniform, he was 30-40 years old.

I asked him to move to an important time in that lifetime and he said it was nighttime and he was in a field. "I'm wearing a hood, a cloak. It is black." he told me, in a deadpan voice. "I'm outside. There's a little black girl and the master."

"What's happening?" I asked, just as interested to see what happened as he was.

"I'm saving the little girl from being whooped. I tripped him up and she ran into the woods." he said, his eyes moving rapidly as he watched in his mind.

"What is happening now?" I asked, trying not to ask "leading questions", just enough questions to help him stay on track.

"I'm getting whooped. The master is yelling at me and beating me..."

"What is he saying?" I asked, sad to imagine him in such pain.

"Words I'm not allowed to say." he replied, and I couldn't help but giggle.

I asked him how he felt about the scene unfolding before him and he said that he felt sad and proud. He was sad that they were all treated that way, but he was proud that he had saved the little girl. There were a lot of people around watching, other slaves, and they were all proud of him too. He still didn't know his name, I reminded myself to ask again later in case he was able to remember it.

I instructed him to move forward into the happiest moment in that lifetime... I instructed him to look around and get a feel for where he was and what was happening. "I see a woman." he said, choking back tears. "We are getting married. I am in a suit... We're at a church."

"Are you happy?" I prompted.

"Yeah."

"Do you have friends there?" I wondered who all was at his wedding.

His eyes moved and it looked like he was surveying his surroundings. He kind of gasped and said "I see my family!"

"They're there?" I was surprised and happy because I knew how sad it had made him to lose his family.

"Yeah. I found them!"

"Why is this the happiest moment in that life?" I asked, hoping to find out more about his wedding and his reunion with his long lost family.

He was tearing up and couldn't answer.

"Is it because you're getting married and your family is there?" I asked, hoping his wasn't embarrassed about crying. I cry every single time I regress!

"Yeah." he said, swiping a tear off of his sweet tan face.

I decided to move on and find out more about his time as a soldier, since that was how he first identified himself. We moved through time and he was a buffalo soldier now. I asked how he became a soldier, and he said "I enlisted."

"Did you have to leave your wife behind? Do you have any kids now?"

"Yeah, I have two sons." he said.

"Do you still live on the same plantation?"

"No," he replied.

"Are you free now?" I was very surprised by this, just as surprised as I was that he had found his family.

"They said I will be free if I fight..."

"Do you feel good about that?" I asked.

"Yeah..."

"What's happening now?" I asked.

"I'm in a wagon." he said, his voice was calm and quiet.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know..." he said.

"Who are you with?'

"Other soldiers..." he said.

"Listen closely and see if you can hear them say your name... What are they saying?" I asked, hoping to find a name for the soldier who is now my son.

"We aren't talking..." he paused and added, "We're praying to god."

Now I got a little choked up and decided to move on to his death. I told him that when I counted from 5 to 0 that he would find himself two minutes before his death in that lifetime. I expected that he was going to die in the battle that he had been heading to in the wagon, but instead he was an old man. His wife had already died... He was in a bed and his children were there. He survived the war and was freed. He was dying of old age. He began to cry and I reminded him that he was safe and that he wouldn't feel any pain. I instructed him to move through the passing and he said that he was floating above his body and could see his sons crying. I told him to take a look back at that life and told him that he didn't have to talk anymore... I told him to look at the life lessons and see what his purpose was and he said "To protect people."

I asked what he saw good in that life and he said even though he was a slave that he was able to find his family and have a family. He had protected the little girl and also had protected his country in the battles.

I then brought him back to the room around him and smiled at him as he wiped away tears. Even though he acts tough, this regression was a glimpse at his softer and more vulnerable side.

Reflections:
We didn't get a lot of solid details in this regression, but I feel like it was a lovely experience for him. He was especially emotional and very unlike himself. It seemed like he was truly touched by the beautiful bride in front of him, and it also seemed like he was genuinely moved by his son's surrounding him as he passed. I won't do another regression on him for awhile... I don't want to expose them to anything they aren't ready for, even if I know it is something that will be beneficial to them in the long run. I will wait until he asks for one, even if it means waiting and waiting and waiting.

I researched Buffalo Soldiers a little afterwards and everything he described lined up with their history.

Throwback Thursday: So This is What Death Feels Like

For Throwback Thursday I posted a few old pictures on Instagram this morning and it struck me that I should do a throwback blog post! I scoured my email account for an interesting email that I sent a few years ago... Enjoy!

On Nov 10th, 2012 I sent the following description of a dream I had to my pen pal in England... This dream made an impression on me that still lingers on over a year and a half later!

(I deleted the beginning of the email because it was just about random stuff)

...Anyway in the dream I want to talk about, Daniel and I were gathered near a wooded area with some people I went to school with. It was near the church I grew up going to. Our kids were inside the church and I remember wondering what I was doing with those people when I'd rather be with my kids. I glanced toward the church and realized there were zombies pouring out in herds. We all reacted in fear, but then everybody just laughed thinking it was a hoax. I felt in my gut that it was real and rushed toward the church to find our kids. As we ran the weather changed. Dark clouds loomed overhead and began swirling. A school bus full of little kids stopped on the top of the hill and I felt compelled to help the adults get them inside to safety. I hid the children in a safe closet telling them to get down and stay there because it was a tornado. I then knew I had to find English, Miles, and Dellah but didn't know where to start! The church is three stories. Where was Daniel? I last saw him outside. I ran out to him and he was just standing and chatting near some handrails. They were handrails that I spent endless hours flipping over and swinging on when I was a girl. He pointed to the sky and there was one small bit of sky blue left. The clouds were quickly closing around it and I knew I was out of time. I looked at the huge brick building that housed my sweet babies and felt such regret that they weren't in my arms for the end. I thought of how scared they must be! When the clouds covered the last bit of sky, the earth became a sort of vacuum. We grabbed the rails and our bodies floated up. I could feel the swirling sky sucking at me. I told Daniel how much I loved him and yelled out in anguish over my children. I held tight to the rail, but suddenly it didn't matter anymore because gravity returned and our bodies landed with a thud. Leaving our souls above us. I looked down at the lifeless bodies. I literally felt my soul pass through my flesh but it wasn't scary anymore. I felt warm and okay. I knew the kids were fine. I felt Daniel beside me. We didn't have to talk we could just know things. It felt like that bit of yourself in your chest when you breathe mixed with the thoughts in your head. I wish I could explain it better because it was amazing. I didn't have a body anymore and I felt free. I didn't travel anywhere or any of that. I just kind of hovered above the chaotic world that I had escaped. I thought a lot about what it felt like. I remember just knowing it was right and that everything was okay. I can still feel it when I take a deep breath now. I feel now like I can better pinpoint where my spirit is and even like my body is just its vehicle. I wasn't worried about the children anymore because I knew that everything was just okay. I felt so much peace. I said to myself "So this is what death feels like.." And I realized that everything really is okay.

I may sound like a crazy person talking, but I figured you would at least be willing to read this so that I could get it down on paper. It felt a lot like the experience when I was in labor and had that out of body experience, only this was way more enlightening. I even remember finding a sort of peace with death. Just a knowing that ahh so this is what it feels like. I even remember saying to myself that it was wonderful and I didn't want to go back. So strange!!!

Anyway thanks for listening!!! I'm quite intrigued by it all!

This dream was kind of a big deal for me! It was before I began to awaken spiritually, but I feel like it contributed to my desire to get in touch with my spiritual side. I think back on that dream and it is still vivid and heart warming. It was like I was gifted with a glimpse at what the death process really feels like. When I had the dream I no concept of past lives, but now that I have experienced past life regression that dream fits right in with what the death process during my regressions felt like. I look back on my life and I feel like there were little nudges along the way that led me here! I am so thankful to know more about the components that make me whole. I believe that death is over rated and misunderstood! The person dying is fine, it is the people left behind who are in pain and sadness. We need to remember that! I always feared death and felt like it was a foreign concept to me, but that dream in early November 2012 eased a bit of that fear.

Recently my sisters and Father and I had to sing at a funeral. It was like the third on within the span of three weeks... My sister and I were in the choir room of the church where my dream took place and we could hear the men's quartet singing "It Is Well With My Soul" in the next room. My sister made the comment that "Is it ever really well with someone's soul to die?" I looked over at her and said "Yes, they're happier than anyone can imagine now. It must feel so amazing to finally be home and understand everything so clearly and to be out of pain..." I surprised myself with that answer and from the way she looked at me I think she was surprised too. I used to fear death. In our society it seems like people view death as the most terrible thing, but the truth is that we all die. We have all died many times, and it is just a part of the life experience. Death is rest and peace and understanding! I've heard Abraham-Hicks say that if we knew how wonderful death is then we wouldn't punish our criminals with the death penalty, and after my glimpse of that peace I would tend to agree!

Thursday, May 8, 2014

His Life As: A Runaway Slave

Background:
My nine year old son and I sat down together for a regression tonight. It was hard to settle the rest of the house down enough, but once my toddler was upstairs playing with her oldest brother and my husband was out for a run, we took the chance to sit down together in the living room. He settled into the recliner, closed his eyes, and we began.

His 2nd PLR:
I began by relaxing him and once I felt that he was deep enough I had him walk down a path to a cottage. There was a light in the window and it was very inviting. I watched as his feet twitched as they walked down the imaginary path toward the cottage. I counted down from 20 to 0 and told him that when I got to zero he would walk into the cottage. Once he was inside I described a warm fire, a bookshelf, and a rocking chair. I told him to look at the bookshelf and select the book with his name on it, explaining that it held all of the information about his past lives within. He took the heavy book from the shelf and settled in by the fire. I explained that inside the book was a past life that was relevant to his life now, and as he opened the book I was a bit giddy to see what life he would find... I always am!

I asked him what was on the page, and told him that it would be a picture of him in that life. "I'm an African American boy. I have on shorts that are ripped up and dirty. I have beat marks on me from whips." his nine year old voice sounded calm and confident.

I began to ask more questions and before I knew it a fascinating life unfolded....

They were peaceful and happy in Africa. He remembered spending time with his Father and Mother and laughing a lot. They were captured and taken on a ship to America and they were separated. "One man wanted my Father and another man bought my Mama and me." he explained. I asked how it made him feel and he said he felt scared. He described that he worked in a field all day in the hot sun. He said they picked cotton and that there were a lot other slaves around him working. At the evening meal he described being in a shack off in the corner with his Mama and new baby brother. They were tired, but they loved each other a lot. He said his baby brother was chubby. We moved forward in the life and he realized that he was on the run. He had wanted his Mama and brother, who was older now, to come too, but they were too afraid that they would get caught. He was up farther North in a city. He had crossed a river and traveled at night and people were looking for him. He said even people up North were looking for him and he just wanted to blend in and find somewhere safe to hide. We moved forward in time and he had found a home with a white man and women. They let him hide in their wagon and gave him food and clothes to wear. After awhile he began working for them, although he considered it more to be working WITH them as a favor and not as a slave. They were kind to him, but he realized his life hadn't really changed all that much. He went from a huge plantation with his family to working with this white couple, the only difference was that they were kind to him and they wanted to protect him. He said he was still a slave and had risked his life for freedom that he really hadn't found. Without telling the kind people, he left and headed back toward his family. He had spent a long time with those people, but they still wanted to keep him a secret and he just couldn't stay there. He missed his family and had to go find them again. He wasn't sure if he was going to help them escape or just visit them, but he knew he couldn't go back to work on the plantation without being killed. He traveled at night, made it home, and told his Mother and Brother "Goodbye," right before the white man with a beard caught him. He said his brother was nineteen now and that his Mama was old. The man said "I've got you, fool." and proceeded to beat him to death. He tried to fight back at first, but he couldn't. He floated out of his body after dying and saw a white light in the distance. He automatically knew that everything was okay. He said he didn't know the word, but that he felt peaceful and good. He said he felt both sad and okay about dying. I asked what lessons he had learned from that life and he told me how lucky he is now to be free and to have a good life. He explained that he realized he should have stayed with his family because they were important to him and he was never really free anyway. He realized how brave he was though, traveling in the darkness and trying to get away. I brought him out of hypnosis and with wide eyes he said, "That was cool!"

Reflections:
We went into the kitchen and poured a glass of tea and each had a slice of Pizza that was still on the counter from supper. He looked at me, the light of the fridge outlining his face in the dark kitchen, and said "We're so lucky that we get to eat pizza and have tea anytime we want! I just had to eat cornbread all the time in that life..." I couldn't help but smile. Even someone who hasn't lived a decade yet is able to gain something from having a past life regression. If nothing else, the simple realization of how blessed and lucky he is to be free and eat pizza is enough for me. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe somewhere in his past life as a slave that he may have crossed paths with me as "Frederick." I can't help but hope that I was nearby.

Manifestation

Now that I view my life through a new filter, I look back and see so many situations that raise questions. It seems that I always kind of had a "spiritual" outlook on things. I never really stressed about anything and just went with the flow. I have always just believed that things would work out for me and honestly they always really have! Now that I've studied different aspects of spirituality, my outlook on life really seems to align with Abraham-Hicks' teachings on the law of attraction.

The law of attraction, for you new comers to these topics, basically states that we create our own reality through the vibrations that we give off. If you wake up dreading the day ahead, the universe will deliver events and people who will fulfill what you expect. If you go into a restaurant expecting bad service, guess what? You'll have terrible service. Luckily, although luck has nothing to do with it, the law of attraction works both ways... If you wake up looking forward to the day and expecting things to work out for you, they will! If you expect to get that job you interviewed for and don't doubt yourself in the least, you will get it. Life literally follows the path of least resistance and goes with the flow.

I look back at certain events in my life and can't help but wonder if I manifested them! I was born chubby. I weighed 10.15 oz at birth and was always big for my age. I wasn't ever fat, but I might as well have been. I remember being invited over to my now best friend's house for the first time at four years old and hearing her Mama say that she wanted us to become friends since we were both "bigger." Anyway, when I was around twelve years old I began to really long to be slim and trim like most of the girls I was friends with. I thought about it constantly. I would lie in bed at night and just imagine what it would feel like to be skinny and I would literally use every shooting star, birthday candle, or wishing well to ask for a slimmer frame. Suddenly, without any changes in my exercise or eating habits, I slimmed down. For the first time in my life I was very slim and it just seemed like it happened over night. I stayed skinny for several years (until I had babies, haha!). Looking back I see that I held the "dream" in my attention and willed it to happen. I feel like that was one of the first times that I manifested something into physical reality.

Another example is my husband. I was a newly slim 7th grader and he was a cool and handsome senior. He worked at the local Piggly Wiggly as a bag boy and I had a major major crush on him. He was unattainable. I had braces, was 5 years younger than him, and was nobody, but I decided that I would marry him someday! I changed my email password to "Daniel," and offered to run in Piggly Wiggly every single time that we ran out of something. I really liked him and never stopped. I forgot about him for awhile, but anytime I would see his green mustang in town, I'd remember my crush and it would reignite. In eleventh grade I took yearbook for the first time. I had never taken it before and don't know why I did, but I realized that my new friend was his little sister. I told her that I had the biggest crush on her brother and she told me to write down my number. Within a few weeks we were dating! Within a year we were married and expecting a baby. Now nobody says that manifestation is going to be instant, but because I didn't doubt my proclamation that I would marry him, eventually things aligned and I DID! Now I don't know whether this was a manifestation or not, but it definitely feels like I knew him on a soul level and recognized that we had a future together, no matter how silly I seemed for believing it at the time.

Now my next example is undoubtedly a manifestation. I have no other way to explain it! When our first born son was 8 months old we found out that I was expecting again... This news did not sit well with my husband. He saw it as proof that I couldn't handle "birth control" responsibly and he could just see us with 12 children within a decade. I don't blame him, two accidental pregnancies was not a very good track record for a 19 year old. When I was 9 months pregnant with our second son, my husband informed me that he had made an appointment for a vasectomy. He was 24 and I was 19. It seemed like an extreme decision, but I am not very good at saying no and just went along with the decision. Throughout the years I remember saying things like "I just feel like I have another baby left inside of me!", and "Maybe we can adopt someday...", and "I guess when we're older he can have it reversed." It was hard. As the boys got older my longing for another baby became so strong. I prayed for a baby, used every birthday wish and shooting star to beg for one, and even threatened to divorce him over it. It was a huge wedge in our marriage. Well guess what? When our boys were 7 and 8 we had a baby girl! To make a long complicated story short and simple, it turned out that my husband had an infection that reopened the components within him that were blocking semen from being released. After seven years, that just happens? The doctor who redid the procedure said that we had very slim odds of pregnancy, but it all worked out how it was supposed to! Everything aligned and our family is now complete!!! I literally could not be happier!

You see, we are creators. We were made in the image of our creator and we too have the ability to create our own reality. Most of us don't realize it and most of us just create our reality based on responses to the things we see around us. Even in the bible it says "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."(Matthew 7:7) We live in a lovely reality that we can mold and change to suit our desires. The beautiful thing about it is that the work is never done... Once we reach one "goal" another one is birthed within us. We are never satisfied, and that is okay! I'm more careful now about the thoughts that I think (Abraham says that you only have to think of something for 17 seconds in order to begin to make it a reality), and I am more aware of how far being positive and upbeat can go in life. I do not watch the news, I do not get into politics, and I do not harp on negative things that worry me (like chemtrails or cancer), because focusing on those things may make them part of my reality.

Whether you realize it or not, you attract things to yourself. Whether you believe it or not, just give it a try... Listen to a few Abraham videos on YouTube, look at your life and identify times when you've attracted good or bad outcomes to yourself, and just start to try and keep your thoughts and moods in a good and positive zone. It can't hurt to give it a try and see what comes of it! Whether the examples that I gave above were truly manifestations or not, I believe with all of my heart that LOVE and HAPPINESS and OPTIMISM are the keys to HAPPINESS!!! Count your blessings and stay thankful for what you have and it will multiply! These are things that were outlined for us in the bible, and now it is time to take them and apply them in our real lives and in a current, useful, and valid way. I can't wait to see what life has in store for me, and I can't wait to see what it has in store for you either!

Monday, April 14, 2014

A Short Story: Endless Possibilities

Endless Possibilities

By: Lindsay Golden Johnson

“He’s got the gun out again…” Haven, Peter’s spirit guide had literally done all that she could do to help him. No matter how many times his life seemed to get back on track, he found a way to fall apart and collapse again. He just wasn’t happy on earth. Even as a little boy he had seemed sad and sullen most of the time. It really took a lot to get him excited, and lately he wasn’t even functioning as a member of society or life at all.

“Bring him to me, please.”

“I will.” With a single thought Haven was by his side again, watching him contemplate death and dying. She knew that he wouldn’t do it. He never did, but it was quite clear that something had to change. After awhile he set the gun on his nightstand, tears rolling down the familiar path of stubble and dry skin, and fell asleep. Sleep was the one time that he didn’t feel the unbearable weight of his life, and he certainly did a lot of sleeping.

“Peter,” Haven held her hand out to him and invited him to come with her into the astral plane. He came with her a lot and they talked while his body slept. No matter how low he was, she always loved and understood him. She never once judged him. He was a loving soul and was very gentle and kind when he was out of his body. Although people who met him in the street or interacted with him in the physical world would never describe him with those words. “You are wanted, they have manifested a place for us to meet.”

Peter knew who she meant and went with her. This wasn’t the first meeting of souls regarding his life path as Peter. He had spent immeasurable time trying to reconcile things on the spiritual level for the personality, but it never seemed to help once he was back in the physical body called Peter.

“Come…” Peter and Haven were welcomed into the large room and hovered beside a long table with the others.

“Things have become extreme, it is time to make a choice for Peter.” Haven whispered and Peter knew what she meant. “You have an exit point coming up and it may be the best strategy here.”

The beings around the table all cared for Peter, he knew that they did. They were his higher council. Peter had reviewed many lifetimes with these beings and cherished their thoughts and opinions completely. Peter thought back to the loving advice they had given him as he planned this lifetime and wished that he had heeded their recommendation to wait awhile before incarnating again. “Peter,” Asa began, with a patience and acceptance that was much appreciated. “We feel that you should look at the probabilities and decide. You are unhappy on earth in this life and we do not wish to make you stay, but it is up to you.”

“I will explore the probabilities now, thank you for the support.” Peter was a light being now, far different from the neglected body that he was connected to back in Chicago. The Peter that was living as a college professor and absentee father was as dark as humanly possible. He began to explore the possible outcomes for his life and they all began with the moment that he would awaken from here. They weren’t joking when they said it was time to decide… He knew that his exit point was a probability and decided, with Haven beside him, to explore that outcome first.

My life was getting worse and worse by the moment. I had no friends left, my wife had custody of the children, I had cancelled more classes in the past month than faculty members usually cancelled in a year, and I was depressed and alone. I had really screwed up all aspects of what once seemed like a promising life. The gun that I had placed on the nightstand was there when I woke up from a fitful sleep. My body rarely truly relaxed and rested anymore.

The sun was sinking and it was nearly dinner time. I didn’t eat anymore and was wasting away. I would have a beer later, but as for food I just wasn’t interested. The gun was calling my name again. It seemed like the most logical way out of all of this mess. My cell phone buzzed and I ignored it as usual. It was most likely one of the children who now called another man “Daddy” and called me by my first name instead. I had really fucked up fatherhood.

I pulled the gun onto the mattress beside me, thinking it seemed like as good a time as any to die. My face, sticky from that afternoon’s dried tears, was now covered in streams of wet sadness again. I wasn’t angry at life, but I was done with it. I thought of the days, that felt like much longer ago than they actually were, when I was a newlywed and spent every waking moment in Noel’s arms. Those moments were the closest to content and happy that I had ever been. Things changed when we began having children, Noel changed. She wasn’t interested in spending much time at all in my arms. She was busy, in love with the little beings that she was popping out left and right, and more concerned with whether I had taken out the garbage than with how my day had gone. My job was unfulfilling, money was tight, and I checked out. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it just gradually seemed that I drifted farther and farther away from my family.

As I held the cold gun in my hand I knew what I had to do. I had to erase myself from the history of life and give everyone what they really wanted anyway, a reason not to visit me or interact with me at all. Even my students had stopped emailing me and coming by my office for help. No one wanted to be near someone as screwed up as Peter Hannah, just in case it was contagious-- wouldn’t want to catch "fuck up fever."

I didn’t leave a note. I didn’t leave a will. I didn’t leave a legacy. I didn’t leave anything but a body with a blown off head and a surprisingly large splatter of blood and guts. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t even tickle. One second I was holding the gun in my mouth, tasting the metallic smooth surface, and the next minute I was gone. Erased. Relieved. Finally.

The moment that the gun was fired set off a chain of events that Haven and Peter watched unfold. He saw the moment when his children got the news, and it was proof that they had loved him dearly. Even Noel was heartbroken. He watched his funeral, his parents crying, his siblings wondering what they could have done to help, his students shedding tears over their fallen professor, and his children confused and hurting more than he had ever imagined they would hurt.

They then watched the next few years of his children’s lives. His untimely death completely changed the children’s probabilities. Leon, his oldest son—named after his Mom—reached his teen years and fell into drugs and casual soul numbing sex. He contemplated suicide often and just wanted to be left alone. Alice, his only daughter, cried a lot. Even years later, she would cry hysterically over him. She seemed sad, the complete opposite of the little girl he knew before. His third son, Harrison, was perhaps the worst of all. At twelve years old he took a gun to school and was expelled. He had an obsession with causing pain to others, most likely just to share a bit of the pain that was thrust upon him at the tender age of five. He then saw Noel. She was divorced because her seemingly perfect doctor husband just couldn’t deal with her troubled children. She was alone and worried about what to do with the boys, she was so focused on them that she never even noticed the deep despair that Alice was trudging through. Peter had seen enough.

“That probability is not an option. I don’t want to see any more,” he interrupted, not able to endure more.

Haven nodded and slid the scene before them through the air until it disappeared. “Good. I didn’t think it would be a good fit.”

“Let me see more.”

Haven then pulled the next scenario into the air in front of them. Peter felt for his personality. He was lying on a mattress without sheets, sleeping and pondering a death that would tear so many other people’s realities to pieces. He wished he could reach down and spread the peace of the ethers over Peter, but he couldn’t. He just had to assist him by picking the best probability that would offer Peter the most peace of mind and the least destruction.

“This is a probability where you wake up from your slumber, lock the gun away in a safe, and push out of the depression little by little. It seems like the least painful for most people in your life, but it is excruciatingly painful for you. You live every day wishing you were never born. You cry a lot and feel the distance between your children and yourself even more strongly than you ever did before. You don’t feel worthy enough to try and push your way back into their lives, and you live out your days in a similar way as to how they are being lived now. Sad, alone, and depressed.”

Peter watched the life unfold before him and immediately knew again that he couldn’t do that to himself. It was uneventful and it was basically choosing to live a miserable life just to keep from hurting other people. As much as he loved his children from this side of the veil, he knew that they wouldn’t want him to live like that for their benefit. They had their own string of probabilities that didn’t involve him. Some of them might find another reason to turn out “bad,” and in that case his sacrifice would be a complete waste. He shook his head and they explored it no more.

Haven pulled another life before him, one that she thought had promise. It was definitely a start… It wasn’t that far of a reach from where he currently was, and it at least set him up to find help and support. Peter watched with her and immediately knew that it was definitely the best option that he had explored so far. Haven studied him as he watched the scene unfold, hoping that they could find a good fit for her dear love Peter.

I pulled the gun onto the mattress beside me and studied it for awhile. I thought back to the afternoon when I purchased it. I had been shaking like a leaf when I filled out the paperwork and my handwriting was unrecognizable. I nervously explained that there had been break-ins in my apartment recently, but I knew good and well that it was not for home protection and that instead it would most likely be the means to an end. I shook my head at the thought of how foolish I must have looked in that gun store, and realized that no matter what I did in life that I would never fit in or be happy. I never had and I never would. I pulled the gun up to my temple and again began to shake. This wasn’t the way I wanted to die, but I had to do something. Something had to change.

I reached across the bed and grabbed the old flip phone that had been buzzing only seconds before and dialed 9-1-1. The nasal voice of the operator immediately asked what my emergency was and I sat quietly for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

Finally words began to come from my mouth. I hadn’t planned what I would say, but somehow everything was coming out calmly and intelligently. “I have a gun and I feel suicidal. I don’t want to kill myself and need you to send help.” My voice was surprisingly steady and within a few minutes police and paramedics descended upon my apartment and carted me off to the psychiatric ward where I belonged.

This probability was one of hope and both Peter and Haven could see the potential of it. After a few weeks of therapy and constant supervision Peter would be released with new medicine that numbed him out some. His family would visit him and make more of an effort. This potential allowed Peter to find some of the help he needed without interfering too much with his children and ex-wife’s lives. Haven nodded with encouragement, but Peter still needed to see more potentials before he decided.

Yes, threatening to kill himself and calling for help seemed to lead down a path that was fairly peaceful and calm for him. It seemed like being numb to the world was a start in the right direction, but it still did not make enough of a change for Peter to feel completely at peace with it. It seemed like every potential outcome still left him dangling in a life that he didn’t enjoy and that he wanted out of. Peter deserved happiness and stability.

“More…”

Haven nodded and slid that outcome to the side for later. The next one was another exit point. This time instead of shooting himself and tearing his family apart at the seams, he would die in an “accident.” He would fall into the road in front of a large truck and after a few days in the hospital on life support would make his exit. His family would lose him, but they would find pity for him because of the way he died. The children would embrace Dr. Lawson as their father more readily with a death like this, and it would secure a stable marriage for Noel. Peter knew that she deserved something long lasting and nodded to Haven. She slid it to the side and now there were two probable outcomes that may come in handy for him.

“Still more…” Peter said, knowing that he would feel a sense of peace when the right path was placed before him. He wanted to see them all and Haven understood.

Haven cared for Peter very much. They had lived many lifetimes together and in this lifetime she had seen his potential for depression and sadness and had decided to stay behind as a guide. She knew how easy it was to forget who you are on the other side and vowed to nudge him and consistently offer him opportunities to glimpse his soul and remember a little. So far, the forty-six years that he had lived had been spent farther away from his soul and higher self than he had ever lived before. Haven knew that it was natural for people to forget, but somehow residue from his incarnation as a Jewish man who lost everything, including his own life, to the Nazi Regime was bleeding through into his life as Peter and he just couldn’t get a handle on the sadness and pain. She hated to see Peter suffer and was thankful that a human lifespan was so brief in comparison to the eons of time that he had lived and would live. Haven selected another life to show him and felt a surge of hope come forth from within when it began to unfold before them.

I pulled the gun onto the mattress beside me shook my head. What was I thinking? I had never even shot a gun and it would be quite ironic for my first pull of a trigger to end my life. I looked around the room and noticed what a mess everything was, I must have been blind to it before. The stained mattress beneath me smelled of spilled beer and mildew. I coughed at the sudden surge of fowl odors all around me.

I reached up and felt several weeks worth of stubble on my face. I thought to myself that it must have been days since I had even bathed and headed toward the bathroom to groom myself a little. The floor was covered in wet towels, discolored socks, and wadded up underwear. My eyes grew wide as I realized what a deep rut I had been in.

I showered, shaved, picked up the floor, and wrapped a beach towel around me since none of the bath towels were folded where they once had been. I looked at myself in the mirror and my sad eyes had a glimmer of hope in them. Maybe I could pull it together and make a life for myself again, I was thankful that I finally wanted to try.

I felt like a different man. I really did. I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed, but something had. I felt like the issues and moods that had plagued me for decades were unimportant and like I could breathe again. Even the daunting task of cleaning my apartment and mending the bonds that I had so haphazardly broken with my family seemed doable.

I was contemplating dinner, surveying the empty cabinets, and wondering how I had managed to survive on the scant amount of sustenance that my kitchen had to offer when the phone buzzed. I pounced on the bed to grab it, unusually eager for human interaction. “Hello?” I said, my voice surprisingly chipper.

“Dad?” It was Leon. He was nine and I had missed his last two birthday parties. He needed me, and I had been selfish enough to ignore the simple fact that no matter who your ex-wife remarried, that your children still had a place in their lives for you.

“Hey son! How’s it going?” I asked, trying to lower my tone a bit to sound more like the old me. I didn't want to spring this new zeal for life on him, or anyone, too soon.

“Hey Peter.” Leon sounded a little surprised that I answered and it almost seemed like he didn’t have a real reason to call, but I didn’t mind.

“I have spring break next week, I think…” I wracked my brain to be sure that I was right, but I had been so disorganized and down that I still couldn’t be totally sure. “I’m going to be working on my apartment all weekend and thought maybe if you aren’t busy that you and Harrison and Alice could come for a few days...” I didn't know where that idea had come from but I liked it.

I felt almost as surprised about the offer as Leon sounded, “Really? I’ll ask Mom!” It sounded like he had been waiting on that offer for awhile.

And so began the healing and reconnection. I eventually got my act together enough to share custody with Noel again, and eventually all of the children started calling me “Dad.” I rediscovered my love for science and realized that I really loved teaching. Within two years of the afternoon that I spent sleeping beside my gun, I met someone special and fell in love. It was amazing and I really never understood how I shifted so dramatically, but I was thankful for it. I was thankful for every single day and every single breath I took.

I came alive when I woke up from that nap and found a fervor and joy for life that was alien to me, but I welcomed it with open arms. I never gave heaven or my soul much thought, but sometimes I had the feeling that someone or something bigger than me was helping to guide me and protect me. Life was different and worth living. I wasn’t depressed or in anguish anymore, and in the blink of an eye I changed for the better.

Life was and is beautiful and I’m grateful to be happy and healthy and quite frankly I’m grateful to be alive. I sold the gun, but I never forgot how close I came to almost ending it all. I never told a soul how deep my depression and pain had been, but now I doubt they’d believe me even if I did.

Haven knew as she watched Peter view this probability that it was the right one. She saw how lovely his life could be and without even asking him slid the other two possible lives away from sight. He didn’t need to go to a psychiatric ward or jump out in front of moving traffic to find peace, he just needed her.

“You would do that for me?” Peter asked, nearly mesmerized by the beautiful life that he had just witnessed.

Haven nodded and reached for him. They embraced, an embrace that was quite different from a hug in the physical realm. Their energies merged and blended into one. It was decided. It isn’t often that you are able to touch someone’s life so deeply and Haven was honored to offer this to him. She knew that Peter’s higher council would allow it, because any act of love is allowed, no matter how drastic it may be.

They headed back into the conference area and told the elders of their scheme.

“A walk-in?” Ruth asked, she hadn’t expected that to be an option, but she could see the determination in Haven.

“Yes,” Haven spoke. “I want to walk-in to his body and complete this life as Peter for him.”

“I will guide her, as she has guided me.” Peter knew that he could offer her guidance and direction and that she could mend the problems that he had created far better than he could at this point. He was too tied up in the energy from another incarnation to be able to find the light in his life as Peter. He would still have a certain degree of involvement in his children’s lives, and he knew that this probability was the path to take.

“It is well. We trust your decision.” Asa informed them, not protesting at all.

“Thank you for this, Haven. I know you hadn’t planned to incarnate in this era on earth, but I can see that it is a good option for the remainder of Peter’s life.” Ruth blessed the decision and sent the two on their way with love.

“Kiss the children for me.” Peter whispered as they hovered over his sleeping body. He and Haven promised to meet in the astral realm while Peter's body slept, and looked forward to those interactions very much. They really did love each other. Haven took a deep breath, in a moment or two Peter would awaken and his life would begin again. The cloud of pain that had followed him would dissipate and Haven would become a refuge for the fragile children that he had fathered and nearly abandoned. Haven would pull the pieces of his shattered career and life together and would live out his days for him, bringing a light and happiness that he was never able to bring.

He thought about physical touch and how he had deprived himself of it for so long. He wished he had hugged his children more, but knew that it was too late now. The gun was still resting on the side table and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Haven was saving him from another painful incarnation that would have followed him into another lifetime, causing more pain and suffering. He couldn’t thank her enough.

“It is time.” Haven said, preparing herself for the heaviness of depressed and unhealthy flesh. And with that Haven walked in to the sleeping body. For a moment they lingered there together as one, but as Peter opened his eyes to begin this new chapter of life, the former soul of Peter walked out.

He watched as his Haven, in his old body glanced at the hand gun and cringed. He watched as he smelled the mattress and surveyed the damage that a life unlived had done to his apartment and couldn't help but smile. The new Peter had no idea what dramatic change had taken place within him, but already felt the difference that Haven’s presence would bring to his life. For the first time in many years, there was a sense of hope in the air, and that was a start.

Luckily, thanks to Haven’s sweet sacrifice, this story ends with a classic, heartfelt, and hard-earned:

“ AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.”

And they really did.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

This Time Last Year: UFO Sighting

On March 7th, 2013 we heard a really loud noise and the entire family paused to listen. It sounded like a low flying jet. We talked about it for a minute and all remarked things like, "Wow that was low!", and "That sounds so close!", but we didn't think that much about it until we heard it again! We all ran outside, I had the baby on my hip as I looked skyward. It was a dark clear night, and the spring air was crisp and comfortable. We hadn't been outside long before we realized that this was not an ordinary scene unfolding before us! It wasn't long until we realized that we were witnessing a craft in the air unlike any craft that we had ever seen before, and that the jets that were roaring through the sky were in pursuit of it! It felt like we were watching a Sci-fi action movie instead of just staring into the South Carolina night sky. It felt scary and exciting all at once!

Below is the description that I immediately went inside and typed into my phone on a UFO sighting website that I found via Google. I had never given UFOs much thought really, but it was apparent that what was above our home was definitely a UFO. The UFO itself didn't feel threatening at all, it was beautiful and strange to see. It seemed to float in the air and its movement looked more like it was sliding on ice or through water instead of propelling through air. I will never forget the way it just seemed to hover but without any sound at all. The UFO was lovely, but the fighter jets made the whole situation feel ominous... Here is what I sent in immediately following the event (they sent me an email of the form that I filled out online)!

Date: 03/07/13

Time: 19:45

Duration: 10-25 minutes

Sighting City: Donalds

Sighting State: sc

Sighting Zip: 29638

Sighting County: Abbeville

Witnesses: 2

Shape: Triangle

Number of Craft: 3-4

Tonight we heard what sounded like low jets roaring through
the sky. At first we just commented on how low they must be, but once we
heard them again only seconds later, we headed outside to check things out.
The first thing we saw seemed to be a very high and extremely fast jet. It
was going at an extraordinary rate of speed! Within a few seconds we saw
another one behind it. They came back from the other direction this time and
then again crossed back across the sky. They seemed to be in pursuit of
something, but we didn't see anything. Suddenly we realized that they were
both heading toward the exact same point. It looked as if they were going to
collide! It really felt like we were watching an action movie! After
appearing to very narrowly miss each other, one of the "jets"
began to zig zag. It was a very strange sight. At this time both of them
crossed the sky again and flew out of sight.

While we watched them disappeared we saw another different kind of craft
appear. We didn't see which direction it came from and it was almost like it
appeared out of nowhere. It didn't make a sound like the others had, and it
was traveling in the opposite direction. It was obviously huge! It was very
high in the sky yet was still twenty or more times the size of a star. It
had lights-- three prominent ones that seemed to form a triangle. The lights
seemed to alternate with blue in one spot at times and red and white at
other times. It made its way smoothly through the air. It was a totally
different looking form of flight than the other crafts we saw before. We
watched until it disappeared, which felt like forever.

I immediately went inside and sent out a text to close family members(at
the risk of sounding totally crazy) and informed them that we had just seen
a ufo and what looked like military jets attempting to intercept it. I
expected to get a few "LOL" responses, but instead got a phone
call from my sister who had also seen a strange occurrence in the sky
probably 45 minutes before us and 45 miles away. She described seeing a large object in the
sky that she couldn't quite place, and said that it just disappeared right
before her eyes. It startled her to the point of calling her husband right
away.

What we saw tonight was unlike anything I've ever seen. I felt sick to my
stomach and there was a sense of urgency in the air. At one point I asked my
husband if I needed to go inside and gather the children in a safer
location. I guess we'll never hear about it on the news or even find out
what was really going on, but I believe we witnessed a ufo and attempted
military intervention.

Description: Two or more military jets appeared to try and intercept a
huge triangular craft

Lights On Object: Yes

Aircraft: Yes

Name: Lindsay Johnson

Address Street: xxx x xxxx xx

Address City: Donalds

Address State: SC

Address Zip: 29638

I am happy that I was able to find this in my email so that you could read a first hand account of it instead of reading my version from a year later (which would have been much more brief)! The day after I sent this form in I received a call from the director of the National UFO Reporting Center and we discussed the situation again. After talking awhile he invited me to speak on a national radio broadcast about the topic with him, because it was compelling to hear it described so clearly from a former non-believer. He made the statement that my account of the craft lined up very accurately with descriptions of UFOs throughout the years and I was kind of shocked to hear it. I don't know if I would call myself a former non-believer, but I definitely didn't give it much thought before seeing it with my own eyes. I agreed to do the interview and despite my nerves, our interview was broadcast and is now on RENSE.com, but I believe you have to be a member to hear it. Honestly I haven't even joined or listened to it, but someday I might!

To me this just fits right in with the journey that I've been on spiritually. I credit events like this ufo sighting, living in our haunted house, the death of a friend's son, and the death of my mother-in-law for pointing me in the direction of spiritual awakening. Things like seeing a UFO right above you for at least 20 minutes causes you to ask questions about the universe and about consciousness that you may not have asked otherwise.

Do you believe in aliens? Do you believe in UFOs? I definitely do now, but had you ask me that question prior to March 7th of last year, I would've shrugged my shoulders. I am thankful for my journey and for each leg of it. I am thankful to be exploring the topics that some people don't even give a second thought. I am immensely enjoying the unfolding of my new reality, and I can't wait to see what is next!

Monday, April 7, 2014

A Short Story: Quickening

Quickening

By Lindsay Golden Johnson

I remember my first abortion. No, I don’t mean the first time I ever killed a baby, somehow I’ve lived hundreds of lives without ever being faced with that choice. I guess a better way to word it is to say that I remember the first time that I was aborted. I went into the fetus around twelve weeks and began to bond with the mother. She was lovely. She was joyful and kind. I knew from the start that it was a probability, but I couldn’t be sure that she would go through with it. After all, she was one of the sweetest spirits I had ever known, we had share many other incarnations together. It is important to understand that there is something to be learned from every single incarnation, no matter how long it lasts, but I have to admit that I enjoyed her energy so much that I sometimes selfishly hoped it wouldn’t come to pass. After she aborted me, I didn’t take it personally and I didn’t hold it against her. It didn’t hurt. And looking at her situation, I didn’t blame her… But I will certainly never forget it. I will certainly never take the traumatic process of birth for granted again, and in lifetimes where I am lucky enough to bear children in my womb, I will never take the first flutter of movement lightly. It is the quickening that makes it real for every mother and since I have been at the other end of it, since I have been the little growing baby who didn’t have the chance to gulp air or to nurse at the breast, since I have been the baby who’s fingers and toes were never counted because they never even had time to form, I will never take that quickening for granted. I guess it is safe to say that being aborted makes you realize how very precious the simple act of living is, or at least that is what it did for me. Being aborted, even though you understand the reasoning and the rationale behind it and support it even, is a big part of reality that reminds you how hard decisions can be and how important it is to be completely sure before you commit.

Sandy listened as her father lectured her about missing her curfew. She knew she deserved and didn’t even both explaining that Martin’s car battery had died at the restaurant. They were still in the puppy love phase and nothing her father could say would sway her opinion of her time with Martin. Even though Sandy had always been obedient and respectful of her parents, she knew that she would have to defy her father’s punishment and that even being grounded for a month wouldn’t keep her away from Martin.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as she headed up the stairs to her room. She could tell that he hadn’t wanted to ground her, her father was always fair and understanding, but sometimes he had to stand firm and enforce the rules. She plopped down onto her bed and sighed, she didn’t have to worry about it now, she could always figure it out tomorrow instead.

“Wake up, Sand!” her mother’s silhouette against the bright sunlight looked angelic. “You’ve got band camp.”

“I’m grounded…” she rolled over and pulled the blanket up higher.

“That doesn’t apply to school functions,” she pulled the blankets off, exposing Sandy’s slim frame dressed in her favorite Beatles t-shirt and panties for pajamas. “You’re going to be late.”

Sandy sat up and rubbed her eyes, the sun still crazy bright, and she kind of smiled at her mother. Helen was short and pleasantly plump, her blonde hair was still long and reminiscent of her hippie days. She was always understanding and fun, and that always helped to offset Sandy’s father’s stern ways. “I’m up, you can go cook for me now.” Sandy teased, Helen wasn’t much of a cook lately.

“Sanders Sunrise Simpson,” Sandy always thought her parents must have been experimenting with LSD when they picked that name, but her mother always lovingly explained that their first date had been at a fancy restaurant in Memphis called Sanders’ and that the “Sunrise” part came from what time they finally pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, they had apparently made out in the car all night—she never asked for clarification on what they did all night and didn’t want to know. “If you hurry you might have time to stop for breakfast!”

“Alright, I’m up.” Sandy stood up and headed to a small pile of clothes in her chair and threw on a tank top and shorts, not bothering to put a bra on. Her parents never seemed to fuss about things like that, perhaps that was another perk of having former hippies raise you.

Band camp was something that she had to do, her father wouldn’t let her quit the band no matter how often she begged. He always said that he could see the future benefit of it and the only reason that she wanted to quit was to sleep late and be even lazier. She didn’t protest to that, she definitely preferred to spend her summer in bed and by the pool instead of charting out drills, counting steps, roasting in the sun and sharing squirt bottles of water with pimply trumpet players who had crushes on her. She reminded herself that once Fall came and football season started that it was a free pass to all of the games—she loved to watch Martin play, and sometimes she managed to ride home from away games on his bus. She was always good at that, at finding ways to make the best of situations and see the good aspects, but that didn’t mean she would stop begging her father to let her quit. She wouldn’t quit that, mainly because she knew it gave him something to fuss about other than about the fact that she was dating an older guy that he didn’t approve of.

Band camp was hot, but she could see the football players in the distance and knew that one of the purple and white blurs was her boyfriend. She didn’t know yet how she would get out of being grounded for a whole month, but she knew that she would have to! The thought of not being free and in Martin’s arms was enough to drive her totally crazy.

“What are we going to her?” Sandy’s father asked, he and Helen were sitting on the front porch swing listening to the sounds of summer. Sandy was upstairs in her room, sulking about being grounded.

“Ah, she’s a good girl, we don’t need to worry.” Helen always had a positive outlook and tried to ease his worried ways. “She’s much calmer than we ever were! And she makes better grades than her brother ever did….” Helen thought back to their wild nights of love making, their long road trips to Woodstock, and their endless dabbling with various drugs. Steven was so carefree and alive back then! He was more like Sandy than he’d ever admit, and Helen couldn’t help but long for the way he was when she first fell in love with him. Maybe it was the weight of a job and a family that changed him, or maybe it was the cancer, she really wasn’t sure. No matter what it was, the man she was holding hands with now was very different from the Steven she had grown up with. Helen often joked that she and Steven had raised each other while they raised their son, he was a lot older than Sandy—who was a late in life surprise.

Steven knew she was right, but he couldn’t help but worry. He knew that eventually, maybe not that far away, he wouldn’t be around to father her anymore, and he wanted more than anything to say things now that would instill good decision making skills in her head forever. Steven’s thoughts were not that different from his wife’s thoughts as they sat side by side in silence, the squeak of the swing falling into rhythm with the crickets and frogs. He had never imagined himself turning out how he had. He had never imagined being the disciplinarian who didn’t budge, the militant father who ruled with an unbreakable sternness. Life used to be carefree and easy. He remembered what it felt like to not have a care in the world and to just live day by day, but now his days were numbered and he didn’t want his little girl living in that illusion. That wasn’t how the world worked, he had found out quickly and almost painfully what a mortgage was and what it meant to be responsible for a family. It didn’t happen overnight, but over time he had become unrecognizable. Not only was he bald from the chemo, but he was boring and hardened too. Flower child? Hippie? What were those? Nothing but distant memories of a boy who life hadn’t yet forced to wake up, the Steven who would name his children Benjamin Franklin and Sanders Sunrise Simpson was a stranger to him now.

“Maybe we should just cut her some slack this time,” Helen didn’t want her to be locked away in her room for the rest of the summer. This would likely be her last summer with her father living and Helen knew how painful it would be to remember him fondly when his last few acts as father included grounding and fussing. “She’s young and it is summer.”

“No.” Steven stood up and headed inside. He didn’t have time, he literally didn’t have time, for this.

It was late June and Sandy had abided by her father’s wishes so far. She knew he wasn’t feeling well and decided to cut him some slack and just be good. She was never really bad by normal teenage standards, but by Steven Simpson standards she knew she would never measure up. She had a feeling that Martin was cheating on her, but pushed the thought out of her head and focused on happier things, like the upcoming school year. In a few more weeks the first day of school would give her a sense of freedom and on the last Friday in July she wouldn’t be grounded anymore thank goodness. If only Martin could hold off just a little longer.

“There’s a new boy! He’s a drummer!” Christi, her friend and fellow saxophone player announced. “I saw his parents talking to Mr. Parker, and he was just standing there against the wall like my future husband!” Christi was funny and fun. She was one of the fun aspects of band camp.

“Well I hope he’ll want to marry you back!” Sandy giggled, remembering a time when she was acting all junior high about Martin. Martin…. She needed to ask Christi if she had heard anything about, him but really didn’t want to.

“I saw him look at me!” Christi was too busy gushing over the new boy, she wouldn’t be helpful with Sandy’s Martin situation right now anyway. “I bet he’s the best drummer ever!”

Sandy nodded and listened, but really she was staring off into the distance, watching her quarterback practice. If she didn’t do something fast her quarterback was going to be in a cheerleader’s arms and pants. Sandy was still a virgin. She and Martin had decided to wait, but right before she got grounded they had started talking about “doing it” on their one year anniversary. She wondered how long he would wait on her now that they had opened that can of worms and really hoped that he would at least wait until school started. Some nights she would sneak and call him after her parents were in bed, but he wasn’t much of a phone talker and it didn’t do much to prolong the inevitable. She really felt like he was going to break up with her or cheat on her. If she could just spend some time with him before then, she knew it would hold him over. “Hey, do you think I could say I’m staying at your house tomorrow night? Being grounded doesn’t apply to you or Mary Hannah.”

“I guess so,” Christi didn’t care, all she could think about was making little drummer babies.

“Okay thanks! Oh look, here he comes!” Sandy spotted a tall stranger walking toward the band director and smiled. He would definitely be a good match for Christi, if Christi could actually catch his eye.

Sandy’s parents agreed to let her spend the night at Christi’s house, but she wasn’t allowed to drive herself. She didn’t mind. She would just arrange for Martin to pick her up at the end of Christi’s road and everything would go off without a hitch! “Bye, Daddy.” Sandy gave him a peck on the cheek as she opened the car door and headed up toward her friend’s house. She had spent many nights there and almost opened the unlocked door and walked in, but she stopped herself and waved and blew kisses at her father to buy herself some time.

Steven waved back at her and pulled off, surprisingly he didn’t suspect anything and was looking forward to the idea of her spending time with her friend and just being a kid for awhile longer. He had really struggled with the idea of her growing up. The changing body and attitude had really surprised him. Their older son hadn’t started looking so grown up until he was almost a senior in high school, and he hadn’t really felt the need to be as strict with him. After all, he couldn’t come home pregnant or heartbroken. Steven understood teenage boys, teenage girls on the other hand, he did not. The idea of not being there to protect and father Sandy tore him apart, but he knew that it was a reality that he had no control over.

Sandy walked down to the end of the street and waited for Martin, but he was late. She waited a bit longer and then called him. “I’m sorry Sandy, I forgot all about it…”

“How could you forget? We haven’t seen each other in two weeks and you said you were excited!” Sandy felt like crying, but she held back the tears. “Well just hurry up, okay?”

“I can’t, I’m busy now.” He kind of cleared his throat and Sandy suddenly knew what that meant.

“Busy with who?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Martin didn’t sound very surprised by the question.

“Is this it? You’re breaking up with me while I stand on the side of the road?” Now the tears were rolling down her face and ruining her flawless makeup job. She could read between the lines and knew that he was silently confirming her suspicions.

“Yeah, I think I am.” Martin kind of chuckled awkwardly.

“Brittany Henson?”

“I’ve got to go, Sandy. I’m sorry, I just need a girl who has more freedom. I like dating.” Martin hung up the phone and Sandy just stood there, confused and sad. She didn’t even notice the headlights on the road beside her, she was just dazed and hurt. They had been dating since last September and she had really believed that he was the one. She was going to sleep with him! She had planned on forgetting the anniversary timeframe in order to secure him as her own. She knew that had he shown up she would have slept with him that very night. She was going against her dying father and breaking tons of rules just to see him, and he was breaking up with her. Just like that!

“You okay, honey?” A lady’s voice jolted her back to reality. Sandy had never seen her before but she looked kind. She drove a new Mercedes and definitely looked rich.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Do you need a ride?” Sandy really did, but she shook her head no. “I don’t mind taking you home.”

Sandy stepped closer to the car door and before she knew what was happening she climbed into the car and was telling the stranger about her awful boyfriend and how she had lied to her parents about staying with a friend that wasn’t even home for her to stay with. The stranger turned out to be Mrs. Whitaker, new to town, but a doctor’s wife and friendly face. She offered to take Sandy to her house so that she could think and Sandy, not knowing what else to do, agreed to the plan. She couldn’t stay at Christi’s without Christi there and she most certainly couldn’t go home. Sandy couldn’t believe that she actually would have had sex with Martin. She almost felt nauseas.

As they headed inside together Mrs. Whitaker explained that she wasn’t finished unpacking, but Sandy promised that she didn’t mind the mess. It was a big ranch house in a gated community by the river, Sandy commented that her orthodontist lived near there and Mrs. Whitaker laughed heartily. Sandy already liked Mrs. Whitaker a lot. “Thanks again, for stopping.” Sandy said, wondering what she would’ve done otherwise.

“You’re so welcome. I was teenager once too. I remember what it was like…” she took Sandy’s bag and led her into the kitchen for some sweet tea. “I’m just glad I could help.”

They sat together and talked some more. Sandy learned a lot about her rescuer, including the fact that she had one son and two big dogs. “Clay will be here soon,” Clay was her son. “He just got a new car and he and his Dad were going to take it for a spin. I was on my way home from the car dealership when I saw you…”

“Oh, well I’m glad you came along.” Sandy pulled her shirt up a little higher, she had dressed to impress Martin and suddenly felt a little slutty. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do next.”

“I wouldn’t normally do this, but you are welcome to stay here tonight. I think you’ve been through enough and deserve to be cut some slack. I’ll fold out the couch in the den and pull out some movies for you to watch. Tomorrow I’ll drive you home after breakfast and everything will work out fine.” Mrs. Whitaker’s voice was calm and knowing, Sandy couldn’t help but feel like she had really dodged a bullet and felt very thankful for her new friend. She had learned a valuable lesson about boys and parents and life in general. Martin definitely wasn’t worth the lies and deceit.

“Thank you,” Sandy followed her down the hall to a bathroom where she could change into her pajamas. Luckily she had packed an actual bag and really was prepared for a sleepover. As she scrubbed at the black streaks of mascara that were now hardened on her face, she couldn’t help but feel thankful for the fact that Martin hadn’t shown, and she promised herself to follow her father’s rules even when she didn’t understand them. It was the least she could do.

I remember when I got back to the afterlife, right before I entered the fetus that would soon be aborted. I died sooner than I had wanted, and when I saw that my mother was pregnant I decided to reincarnate without giving it a second thought. Yes, I knew that I might be aborted, but I also knew that I wanted another chance. Even just a few moments of being connected to a body could do a world of good for a soul. There are lessons to be learned and sensations to experience. There are people that we long to be close to no matter what they might do to us.

I waited for the baby to grow a little and then I began to attach myself to it. It is up to the soul to decide when to fully connect with the body, but I always like to do it fairly early. I like to bond, to learn the sound of my Mama’s voice, to hear what kind of music she listens to, to feel her joy at my first movements. It is one of my favorite parts of the entire process, and I’ve been to earth enough times to know. I knew that my Mama this time was lively and kind. I knew right away that she loved me. I knew that even a few days or weeks in her care would make an impression on my soul. Sometimes being loved and let go can be just as touching as being born and raised. Sometimes knowing you’ll never have a name is just a part of the process. Sometimes knowing that you’ll never hear her voice in your ear singing you a lullaby makes the muffled sound of her singing along with the radio even sweeter. Sometimes even though you know she’ll never hold you in her arms, being held in her body is enough to know that you are worthy of the next lifetime where you are born, named, and cherished.

Sandy curled up under the quilt that Mrs. Whitaker had folded at the end of the sofa bed and watched Grease. The room was scattered with boxes and the walls were bare, but somehow Sandy felt at home and safe there. Before she knew it she was standing on the arm of the couch singing “Look at me, I’m Sandra D.” She had always loved this movie, and had often wished that she could’ve been Sandy for Sandra instead of for Sanders. She shook her hips and sang “Elvis, Elvis, let me be!” Just as she did a spin off the arm and landed on her pillow she heard a laugh from the door. Before she had time to debate whether it had been a triple axel or not, she was interrupted and surprised by an unexpected visitor. She wasn’t being loud, but somehow she had attracted an audience.

Pulling the covers up over her body again, she sat forward to peak out into the hall. “Hey, sorry, I was just walking past and saw you.” It was the drummer! It was Christi’s future husband!

“That’s okay,” she said sheepishly. “I am good at making of fool of myself.”

“Hey, you’re in the band.” He stepped further into the room.

“So are you.” She pointed out.

He laughed, “I’m Clay.”

“I’m Sandy…”

“Nice to meet you officially,” he said awkwardly, implying that he had noticed her at school the other day.

“You too,” Sandy blushed a little and didn’t know what to say next. He was even cuter looking than she had noticed before. “You can come in.”

Clay walked into the den and sat on the arm of the couch where she had been dancing only moments before and pretended to watch the movie. He didn’t know why this girl was in his house in her pajamas, but he didn’t really mind. It had been amusing so far to say the least.

“Oh, Clay!” Mrs. Whitaker flipped on the light and rushed into the room. “I’m so sorry, Sandy! I ran to the bathroom to wash my face. I had planned on telling them about you right when they came in.”

“That’s okay,” Sandy said honestly.

“Clay, this is Sandy. She’s spending the night here because her, well her plans for tonight fell through last minute. How did the car drive?” Mrs. Whitaker tussled his light brown hair, Sandy could tell that she was proud of her son.

“It was amazing! We found a really curvy road and I’m in love!” Clay’s voice and face were more animated than Sandy had ever seen them. At band practice he looked shy and a little depressed, at home he was obviously the apple of everyone’s eye.

“What kind of car?” Sandy questioned.

“A mustang… A stick shift!” Clay didn’t try to hide his excitement in order to look cool like some seventeen year old boys would. Sandy thought about how Martin always tried to act like he didn’t have feelings in order to play it cool. It was definitely proof that there were better guys out there than Martin.

“Whoa! You’re so lucky!” Sandy was excited for him. “My Dad has a vintage mustang and I drive it every chance I get!”

“Well I can see that you two have cars to talk about… Clay I moved the boxes off of your bed earlier. Don’t stay up too late. Goodnight sweet Sandy.” Mrs. Whitaker left and pulled the door shut behind her.

“Goodnight, Mom.” Clay called behind her. “What year is your Dad’s car?” he asked, not missing a beat.

“Night Mrs. Whitaker! A sixty-nine…” Sandy said, thinking of how proud her father was of his soft green Mustang.

“Very cool….” Clay was still sitting on the arm of the couch and before long Sandy slid over and invited him to sit on the bed beside her. He was really nice and sweet. He was the kind of guy that made her wonder why she ever liked Martin. They were total opposites. Clay was the kind of guy that her Daddy would really like to see her with, but that would never happen…. Christi had already staked her claim. “So how did you meet my Mom?”

“Honestly? I was standing on the side of the road crying like a baby. I had this whole elaborate plan to tell my parents I was staying at a friend’s house so that I could sneak out with my boyfriend. But he didn’t show up.” Sandy felt stupid and ashamed.

“Oh, so she just stopped on the side of the road? She’s always giving rides to hitchhikers, but she’s never brought one home.” Clay laughed.

“Yes, she kind of rescued me.” Sandy was still thankful for Clay’s mom. “He broke up with me over the phone…”

“Man, I’m sorry.” Clay seemed like he really cared and Sandy knew instinctively that he was different from other guys around there.

Sandy and Clay talked most of the night and realized that they had so much in common. He was easy to talk to and even gave her advice about Martin. It seemed like her terrible night was actually going to be the start of something lovely. She forgot about Christi and just enjoyed Clay’s company. By the time he headed down the hall to his bedroom they had watched three movies and knew nearly everything about each other. He knew that her father was dying of cancer, she knew that his father was the new oncologist that the cancer center had hired, and they both knew that they would spend much more time talking and laughing together.

“Goodnight,” Sandy whispered as Clay stood up and switched off the movie. “I had fun tonight.”

“Me too, goodnight…” Clay lingered in the door for a second and then closed it behind him. Even though she was sleepy, Sandy couldn’t sleep. She was too busy thinking about Clay’s hazel eyes. And even though she probably couldn’t date her best friend’s future husband, she could dream about it…. And she did.

“How was your weekend, Sand?” Helen asked as she sat on the edge of Sandy’s bed Monday morning. “I feel like I didn’t see you much.”

“It was okay,” Sandy stretched and popped her shoulder dramatically. “Martin and I broke up.”

“When did this happen? You’re grounded.” Helen reminded her.

“When I was at Christi’s, he broke up with me over the phone.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, she was on the road outside of Christi’s house, she would just omit a few details to keep herself from getting into more trouble.

“Well it is his loss. Get dressed, you’ll be late.” Helen was secretly cheering about the breakup, she and Steven had never gotten good vibes from Martin. He wasn’t the kind of fellow that you imagined your daughter “Sanders Sunrise” riding off into the sunset with.

Sandy took extra care with her clothes that morning. She put on khaki shorts instead of her usual cut off jeans, put on a white peasant shirt with a green tank top under it, and tied on a pair of white Chuck Taylor’s. She usually threw her hair up in to a bun on the top of her head, but instead she braided the front and left the rest of her wavy blonde locks to fall down her back. She knew Christi would probably do the same in honor of the new drummer, but she didn’t mind. As much as she didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings, she knew that their friendship could withstand just about anything. After all Christi had unapologetically stolen Sandy’s boyfriend in the third grade and Sandy owed her one.

“Sandy!” Christi and Mary Hannah came running up as soon as Sandy stepped out of the car. “We saw Martin with…”

“Brittany?” Sandy finished their chaotic synchronized tattle telling for them.

“Yes!” Mary Hannah exclaimed. “How do you know?”

“We broke up.” Sandy shrugged her shoulder and pulled her saxophone case out of the trunk. “It is just one of those things.”

“I’m so sorry!” Christi exclaimed, squeezing her friend tight.

“It is going to be fine.” Sandy smiled, knowing she was right. “I’m leaving early today, I need to go tell Mr. Parker. Daddy asked me to drive him to his doctor’s appointment.”

“You really aren’t upset at all are you?”

“No. Sometimes things just work out.” Sandy headed toward the band room, her friends behind her wondering what had gotten into her. Sandy really wasn’t worried about Martin. She was better off. She was glad it happened when it did, because she had a sneaky feeling that he would’ve just gotten what he wanted from her on their anniversary and then moved on to Brittany anyway. Maybe being grounded wasn’t such a bad thing after all… At least this time!

The band was playing scales when he came in. The girls let out a collective sigh between notes. Sandy smiled at Clay as he met eyes with her and headed up the risers to the percussion section. Suddenly being a band geek didn’t feel so bad after all. When they finished the scales Mr. Parker headed over to help Clay set up and get settled in and Christi immediately started in. “He looked at you! I saw him! Did you see him, Mary H?”

Mary Hannah shook her head and whispered “No!”

“Oh he didn’t.” Sandy assured her friend, not knowing quite how to handle what was inevitably coming.

“I think he did. He is going to ask you out!” Christi scrunched up her nose and then stuck her lip out to make a melodramatic sad face. “I should’ve known he wouldn’t go for a chunky read head.” Christi was realistic about her looks and Sandy couldn’t help but frown back at her.

“You never know.” Sandy whispered.

“It is okay. I met a guy at church Sunday anyway. He’s here visiting his grandparents... He walked me to the Sanctuary.” Christi kind of batted her eyes and straightened her posture. “Maybe WE were never meant to be.”

Sandy laughed at her friend and glanced back at Clay. Thankfully it looked like Christi was going to break the marriage dreams before they got going good. She couldn’t help but notice that he was even cuter than she remembered, and she realized that if he kept being cuter than she remembered that in a few days it would be unbearable. “Hey,” she mouthed.

“Hey,” he mouthed back, twirling his drumstick and laughing at himself. It had been dark Friday night and she was gone before he woke up Saturday morning, so this was the first time he had noticed her dark golden tan and pretty full lips. He had to find a way to get close to her and somehow he knew that she wouldn’t object to that at all.

Sweat was pouring down Clay’s face when he walked over and offered Sandy the squirt bottle of water. It was almost lunch time and they had been out in the one hundred degree heat since ten o’clock. “Want to have lunch with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Sandy teased. “Actually I’m going to the doctor with my Dad. I have to leave in ten minutes… Some new big shot doctor in town or something.”

Clay laughed and his white teeth almost blinded her, he was quite possibly the handsomest band geek that had ever existed in the history of the American marching band. “Tomorrow then?” he asked.

“Yeah, tomorrow…” Sandy agreed, looking forward to it already. “And I’ll even give you my number if you want it.”

“I do, I do.” Clay wasn’t afraid to act goofy if it made her laugh.

Sandy did laugh, and so began “Sandy and Clay.” By the time they announced that they were dating everyone already knew. Christi didn’t mind and quickly moved onto another dream guy, and Sandy couldn’t believe how down-to-earth and kind her new boyfriend was. Once Steven found out that Sandy was dating his new doctor’s son he ungrounded her and invited the entire family over for dinner. It seemed like the end of Sandy’s summer was the beginning of something wonderful, and Sandy couldn’t have been happier. Clay brought out the best in her and she didn’t need to lie or sneak around anymore. She felt more like herself and it gave Steven a chance to relax and just let her be. Helen could see the change in both of them and felt like everything was falling into place. Yes, Steven’s health was deteriorating, but his happiness and contentment was growing, and that was something that she had feared she would never witness. Even if these were their final days together, the glimpses of her old hippie Steven were starting to shine through and remind her why even the most painful of endings was worth it if the journey was groovy enough. Helen didn’t know if there was a heaven, but she hoped there was. Maybe heaven was a little like Woodstock. With a little time Steven could be comfortable in a heaven like that.

“I’m going out with Clay.” Sandy announced from the front door, she and Clay had been dating for two months and Sandy’s junior year in high school was off to a great start.

“Okay, have fun!” Steven called down the hall. He was on leave from work and was actually enjoying the time to relax, reflect, and release his worries. He was very happy that Sandy had found Clay. There wasn’t a day that passed when he worried about her now, and that was a huge relief because it used to be the total opposite.

“I will, Daddy! See you at curfew!”

“Not a second past!” he yelled, with mock authority. It was amazing how the stress of a career, the fear of death, and most importantly the disdain for your daughter’s football playing boyfriend could change you. Almost as soon as Helen told him that Martin had broken Sandy’s heart he could feel his attitude and outlook on life change. He was a little less worried about leaving and a little more willing to just live in the moment and enjoy his family. He knew the cancer would kill him this time, but he also knew that he had raised both Sandy and “Benjamin Franklin” right. In fact, Benjamin Franklin, now twenty eight, had called home from Nashville recently and announced that he was joining the Peace Corps. Instead of worrying about whether it was a good idea to quit his band and do something like that on a whim, Steven just wished his first born child luck and gave him the freedom to live his own life. Little by little he was becoming more like the man he used to imagine himself becoming, and he was determined to milk the rest of his time left for all it was worth, every last second of it. “Helen, come here and kiss me. We’ve got a hot date in a hospital bed tonight!”

Sandy climbed into Clay’s mustang and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Hey, pretty.” He said, admiring her cute summer dress and cowgirl boots.

“Hey cutie!” she replied, putting her hand under his on the gear shift just to feel his touch.

They rode awhile, and finally he asked if she was okay. Was she? She wasn’t sure. Her father was getting happier and more fun to be around, but at the same time he was deteriorating rapidly. It was disturbing. It was the hardest thing she had ever gone through. She couldn’t fix him and she felt like she had zero control over her life in general. Clay was definitely her happy place. “I’m okay. Better now anyway.”

“Want to skip the drive-in?” Clay had an idea that just might perk her up. He couldn’t really imagine what it would be like to watch your father die before your eyes. He couldn’t imagine functioning at school and fitting in like Sandy did. He thought about it and decided that it took a lot of pretending and he didn’t want her to have to pretend tonight. The drive-in movies were always a buzz with their friends on Saturday nights and he decided to give her a break from all of that tonight.

“Sure, where are we going?” Sandy asked, leaning her head back on the headrest and closing her eyes for a second. Sometimes she realized that it helped to go within for a little while and just breathe. Nobody really knew what she was going through, but she had a sneaky suspicion that Clay could understand her better than anyone else.

“You’ll see.” Clay gave her hand a squeeze.

They rode through the countryside in silence. The sinking sun was painting the sky and Sandy felt thankful once again. She was thankful that Clay came into her life when he did, thankful for the slivers of time she had left with her father, thankful for her friendship and closeness with her mother, and thankful still that she hadn’t slept with Martin. Suddenly a beautiful farmhouse came into view and Clay turned off onto the dirt driveway.

Sandy felt like asking who lived there and why they were there, but decided to just wait and see. Clay opened her door for her and pulled her out of the car. Her white sundress was radiant against her golden skin and he wanted nothing more than to hold her close. “My grandparents house. I came every summer when I was little.”

Sandy could imagine him swinging from the tire swing that was making a silhouette against the sunset and smiled. “It is beautiful! Are they home?”

“They’re dead, but we still own the home and keep it up.” He started shuffling through his pockets for the key. “Mama grew up here and always wanted to come back to the area for more than just a visit. We could’ve just lived here but my Dad wanted to be able to bike to the hospital and I think Mama wanted to keep this memory separate from real everyday life.” He almost said that maybe they could live there someday, but he kept that thought to himself for awhile. Maybe they could though.

Sandy followed him up the steps and admired the huge wrap-around porch that was covered with rocking chairs, as he unlocked the heavy door. She loved old houses and had never seen one so beautifully restored. The hardwood floors stretched as far as the eye could see, the big windows were ablaze with the orangey red finale of the sunset, and the décor was simple and stylish. Sandy breathed in the smell, a little stale from being closed up but still flowery somehow. “I love it, Clay!”

Clay smiled, he knew that she would. He gave her the tour. A fresh white country kitchen, a dining room with the longest table Sandy had ever seen, more bedrooms than she could count, sitting rooms with wing back chairs and big fireplaces, and bathrooms with claw footed tubs on crisp clean tile. “I could just stay, I’ve always loved it here.” Clay held her hand as they headed to the last room upstairs. He looked around with pride and laughed a little when he saw her face soften and her heart explode. It was his room, frozen in time. The plaid bedspread was topped with a soft crocheted quit, his teddy bear was resting in between two pillows, there was a basket of baseballs on the dresser, and the rocking chair where his grandmother had rocked him to sleep on his visits was empty and waiting on him still.

“I’ve never seen anything so sweet!” Sandy leaned into him and Clay leaned down and kissed her. He had never loved someone as much as he had grown to love Sandy the past two months. He wanted to take away some of her pain, if only he knew how. Sandy loved how sweet Clay was. He was showing her pieces of himself and his childhood that most seventeen year old guys would be embarrassed to share. But then again, he wasn’t most seventeen year old boys. He was wonderful and Sandy loved him. “Where would I be without you?”

“You wouldn’t be in my arms, but I think you’d be fine.” Clay was glad she was in his arms. He pulled her over to the bed and she willingly fell onto her back, her yellow hair spreading out on the familiar quilt. It was funny, they had never talked about sex really. Clay knew that Sandy would’ve had sex with Martin on the night that his Mom picked her up, but up until this night he had wanted to take things slow with her and build something long-lasting.

“Do you want to?” Sandy whispered, feeling his hands explore places they had never dared to even brush against before.

Clay looked into her eyes and nodded. He did want to. It wasn’t planned and it wasn’t expected, but it felt right. He knew that wanting to was only half of the equation and he sat up on the bed beside her, giving himself a moment to cool off. “I want to, but of course I do. You’re beautiful. I don’t want to rush anything or make you feel like you have to. I know we haven’t even come close and I don’t want to push you at all.”

“I want to, too.” She sat up and pulled the white sundress up and over her head. She was ready and he was the right person. Surprisingly she wasn’t trying to numb the pain of her reality, she was just trying to seal the bond that had been growing since the night that she was supposed to undress for Martin instead.

“You’re beautiful,” he half whispered and half gasped. He had never seen anything as breath taking and pure as the vision before him. Sandy sat on the bed, wearing just a pair of white lace panties and cowgirl boots, her white dress now a little eyelet puddle on the floor. Her breasts were begging to be fondled, her lips were ready to be kissed, and her body was literally aching for him. She had never felt these sensations before and knew that this moment would forever change her.

Clay accepted the invitation that her body had set before him, surprised by how well he knew what to do. She knew what to do too and their bodies mingled in pleasing ways. Together they explored a new and beautiful stream of moments that felt more authentic than the sum of all of the moments that led them there. Sandy tasted the sweat as it dripped down from Clay’s deliciously sculpted chest and arms, realizing that making love was like a beautiful dance. It was one that she could keep dancing over and over again. It was more wonderful than either of them could have ever dreamed. Sandy moved under him and dug her fingernails into his back as her saturated insides began to grip and tug at him. She shook from head to toe and squealed at the new surge of sensation that coursed through her body. Stars began to wink in the window beside them and Clay let out a moan as he released all of the passion that had been steadily building against her irresistible body. Even though they both would’ve continued for the rest of their lives, it was finished. It was lovely and right. It was the kind of thing that changed you forever, and somehow they both knew it.

“I love you.” Sandy whispered, holding him tight and feeling the relief of the final moment. It just came out, but she didn’t want to take it back. She meant it. She loved Clay Whitaker.

Clay rolled off of her, pulled her into his arms, and without hesitating said “I love you, too.” And he really did love her.

Steven and Helen had been together for more days and nights than either of them could count. They had been through a roller coaster of life events that they wouldn’t trade for anything or anyone. Helen had obediently climbed onto her husband in his hospital bed not long after their teenage daughter had headed off to the drive-in with her responsible and truth worthy boyfriend. Steven was very sick, but he still had every bit of the passion that he had back when their bodies were young and vibrant. She of course did all of the work, but he contributed and the love they made was just as strong and pleasing as it had ever been.

Afterwards there wasn’t room for her to lie with him in the little hospital bed with him, so instead she headed down the hall and into the kitchen to make him some coffee. Steven watched as his lovely nude wife headed toward the kitchen. Her body had changed over the years and it occurred to him that he liked the added curves and folds that babies and fad diets had contributed to her frame. She was beautiful and even though he didn’t want to leave her, he could tell that it wouldn’t be much longer now. He thought about it for awhile, the idea of dying, and he knew that it was just a natural and unavoidable part of the life cycle. Everything would be okay and he knew it. He just hoped that his family would come to that same conclusion.

“Here you go.” Helen handed him a cup of coffee, one cream and two sugars, just like he liked it. He got one last glimpse of her breasts as she pulled her clothes back on and sat down on the edge of his bed. “You need anything?”

“No, I just need you beside me.” Steven took a sip of the coffee and breathed in the signature smell of it. It was one of the little things that he would miss. He looked over at Helen and smiled. She was starting to get wrinkles around her eyes and it suited her. She would always be his little hippie chick, no matter how “hippy or busty” she was. “Do you think we did okay?”

Helen looked at him, almost unrecognizable lately other than his infectious smile. Had they done okay? Was she ready to let him go? She wasn’t sure, but she nodded as she fought back the tears. It hit her that they would probably never make love again, and she vowed to never forget the feel of him. “I think we did better than okay. You have made my life complete.”

“And you’ve made mine complete,” he echoed with a little smile as he drifted off to sleep. Helen took the coffee from his hand and set it on down the hardwood floor. She wasn’t going to leave his side, after all he said that all he need was for her to be right there.

She sat thinking and remembering their life together as the sun sank and the sky filled with stars. They had been together now more years than they had been apart. Steven, even during his stressed out and grumpy phase, was her rock and her roll. She loved him more than she ever knew was possible. They had weathered so many storms and had sculpted such a lovely life together. Both Benjamin and Sandy were wonderful products of their love, and she knew that no matter how short their remaining time together may be, that they really were complete.

It was getting chilly and Helen stood to pull Steven’s covers up, he was always complaining about being too cold now that he weighed almost half of what he used to weigh. Steven opened his eyes and gave her a little smile. “I love you,” he whispered, it was all of the voice that he could muster. Helen took his hand and realized that it was ice cold. She felt like running for the kitchen phone and calling for help, but with the DNR she knew that there was nothing they could do to prolong his life anyway. “It’s okay.” He consoled, sensing the panic that she was trying to conceal. “I’m ready.”

“Oh, Steven!” she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. “I love you!”

“Shhhh….” He wanted to calm any fears that she had, he felt at peace and wasn’t in any pain for the first time in a long time. “You tell Benjamin and Sandy how much I love them. You all have to keep…” he swallowed and struggled a little with the words, “keep living. I want you to.”

Helen nodded and studied his face as his breathing grew slower. “You were the best mistake I ever made.” Helen whispered, thinking back to the stigma of being pregnant with Benjamin at such a young age and running off to marry some long haired stranger that her family had never even heard of. “I wouldn’t trade a second with you for anything.”

Steven smiled as he took in one last breath of the Tennessee air that had sustained him for so many years. And at that it was over. He had finished the hardest phase-- you know that seemingly impossible part between birth and death. He had done his best and loved his hardest. He had lost and found his joy a few time, but finally toward the end he managed to settle into joy. He was finished and it was well with his soul, and in time it would be well with his family’s souls too.

The time after her father’s death was hard for her, for my mother Sandy. She cried a lot and questioned everything. She kind of shut my father Clay out for awhile. She couldn’t come to terms with the fact that she had most likely been making love and scratching up and down his back at the exact moment that her father took his final breath. It wasn’t until almost Thanksgiving that she realized that I was inside of her. It never occurred to her that she was pregnant until she felt what reminded her of butterfly flying around inside of her. Some call it quickening, some call it fetal movement, but really it was just me. I wanted her to feel and to know that I was with her. I wanted to pull her back to life and living. I wanted to remind her how beautiful and special and perfect she was. I didn’t want her to feel guilty or alone. I needed to bring her joy and to snap her out of the fog that death had covered her with.

I knew she might not keep me, but I was there to love her until she made her decision. I was in and out of the fetus, as most souls are at first, but if she was awake I was there moving and celebrating the life within her that was me. It felt nice to be so safe and warm for awhile. It is so exciting to grow and change continuously. I thought back to my last incarnation, floating around and growing inside of her grandmother. Even if this life was going to end soon, it was my favorite. She was my favorite. I knew that she would do what she had to do, and I trusted that no matter what she decided that everything would work out because it always did.

“Is Clay coming for Thanksgiving?” Helen was setting the table and doing everything that she could do ahead of time. It would be their first Thanksgiving without Steven and they were all still kind of moping around. She cried more than she smiled, but she smiled a lot too. It broke her heart to see how Sandy had pushed her sweet boyfriend away. He tried, bless his heart, but Steven’s death was an undeniable turning point for their relationship.

“No, but I think I’m going to go to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner on Friday. All of his cousins are coming and he really wants me there.” Band season was over now and they only saw each other at lunch, they usually sat in silence and rarely talked at all. She wished he would just go sit with his friends, he was popular already, but he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to leave her side. He loved her, or so he said. Now that she was aware of his baby growing inside of her she wanted to avoid him even more.

“Well, I think it would be nice if he came… I miss having him around.” Helen wasn’t sure what she could do to help, but she hoped that Sandy would stop punishing Clay for something that he certainly hadn’t caused. When his father came into the picture as Steven’s doctor, Steven was already very far gone. There was no need to blame any of the Whitaker’s, but she supposed Sandy needed someone to blame.

The phone in the kitchen rang and Helen ran out to answer it. Sandy listened as her mother agreed to attend someone’s thanksgiving dinner and wondered who. She hung around to find out. It turned out that it was Mrs. Whitaker. She wanted Mama to come on Friday too. She couldn’t imagine how that would turn out, but she knew there was no changing their minds.

“Oh, I told Sarah to send Clay on over to eat with us tomorrow night. Benjamin will be here and it will be nice to fill some extra chairs. I hope you don’t mind.” Helen knew that Sandy minded, but she thought it would be good to get those two together as often as possible.

On Thursday Sandy sat in her father’s favorite chair and watched the Macy’s day parade in her pajamas. Her mother was cooking and the smells kept wafting in and reminding her of a happier time when her father was with her on Thanksgiving. He loved the holidays. She began to cry and wondered how she would ever survive the holidays alone. There it was again! She felt the flutter in her stomach and cried harder. She had to tell Clay. She had to decide what to do. This was one thing that wouldn’t just go away on its on.

“Get dressed, Clay will be here in a few minutes. Benjamin is running late of course, but he’ll be here eventually too.” Helen was wiping her hands and hoping that all of her hard work would pay off as they all sat down to eat together.

Sandy headed up to her bedroom and stood in front of her mirror. She looked different—a little softer in the middle maybe. She fought back tears and wondered what in the world she was going to do. She rubbed her belly, still flat and still a little brown left over from her dark summer glow. She wondered what Clay would think and decided to stop thinking about it. He would be here soon, and no matter how much she pushed him away, she did love him. She wanted to look pretty and to remind him why he loved her too, no matter how pig headed and selfish she was.

Sandy pulled an off white sweater over her head and slid a pair of dark jeans on, wondering how much longer they would fit. She had planned on wearing this outfit on Friday to the Whitaker’s, but decided to fix up for her own family instead. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and put a pair of brown beaded earrings in. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but luckily her eyebrows and lashes were dark enough that she didn’t really need it. Maybe she would tell Clay tonight, but maybe not.

Clay drove toward Sandy’s house, feeling solemn and lonely. He knew she probably wouldn’t even talk to her, she rarely did anymore. He wanted to be there for her and help her through the pain of her father’s death, but it seemed like everything he did was wrong. He worried that losing her virginity had changed Sandy and that he was to blame, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t regret it. It was still the only time he had heard her utter the words “I love you,” and he couldn’t help but think that she still did love him. She was just hurting and needed someone to blame. As long as she came back to him, he could take the blame for awhile longer. He didn’t want to live without her, not now that he had tasted the beauty and warmth that a functioning relationship with her brought him.

“Hey Clay, come on in. Sandy will be right down.” Helen looked thinner than he remembered and he gave her a little hug. “How are you, fella?”

“I’m okay, hungry!” Clay said, trying to avoid the fact that he was actually pretty sad about the way things had turned out lately.

“It will all work out. I know it will. Don’t worry.” Helen winked at him and said, “And as for the hunger, I’ve got enough food to feed an army!”

“What about a peace corps?” Benjamin walked in with a huge smile.

“Oh, Benjamin!” Helen rushed over and squeezed him tight. He looked more like his father than she had ever seen before. It was nice to see the resemblance.

Sandy came down the stairs and smiled at the two guests. “Hey Benjamin, hey Clay.” Sandy seemed a little shy, but she really was glad to see them both. “I’m starving!”

“Well let’s eat!” Helen led them all to the dining room before Clay or Benjamin could even respond. Clay watched her head to her usual chair and decided to sit down beside her. Benjamin sat down across from him and Helen sat in her usual spot at one end of the table. Steven’s chair was empty and they all felt a tinge of sadness at his absence, even Clay. “Let’s just pass in this direction, Helen ordered.”

Sandy watched Helen and wondered whether she had considered aborting Benjamin. She looked over at Benjamin who was spooning gravy over his turkey and dressing and was thankful that her Mom hadn’t made the choice that she was contemplating. Benjamin was different and they hadn’t spent that many years in the house growing up together because of the age gap, but he was an amazing brother regardless. Sandy decided to call a truce with Clay and to stop punishing him for their night at his grandparent’s farmhouse. He didn’t know her father was going to die that night, nobody did. He was supposed to have at least a month left with them. They had all hoped that he would make it all the way until Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it wasn’t for them to decide when he should let go. Sandy couldn’t stay miserable, especially not with a decision as big as the one she was facing looming, she was going to make peace with her handsome Clay. It was the least she could do.

“Try the sweet potatoes!” Sandy leaned toward Clay and nudged him with her shoulder. “They’re her specialty…”

Clay looked at her and smiled. He could tell that she was trying and he was glad. Even baby steps toward normalcy were an improvement. “Only if you promise to try my Mama’s pecan pie tomorrow,” he said, spooning the orangey brown mixture onto his plate obediently.

“It’s a deal.” Sandy took a bite of dressing and moaned a little. She had waited all year for this one meal. Helen and Benjamin were talking about Benjamin’s new girlfriend and not paying them any attention. “Hey, I love you,” she whispered.

Clay felt his heart skip a beat as he wiped brown sugar from the corners of his mouth. “I love you too. Welcome back.”

Sandy smiled and knew exactly what he meant. She was back. She hadn’t been thinking straight before, Clay was nothing but perfect and deserved a happy girlfriend. She knew she wouldn’t forget about the pain of losing a parent ever, and she knew that soon she would have to tell him about the growing child within her, but for now she was going to just enjoy Clay, Benjamin, and Helen for her father’s sake. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

I guess I should just say it and get it over with. I know you’re probably dying to know whether she decided to abort me or not. I wonder if you’re already feeling a little “judgey” about the whole thing. Most people do have a strong opinion about abortion—whether for or against-- opinions on the topic are almost always heated. I even spent my last incarnation passionately pro-choice, ironically.

So here is how it played out. She told him about me at his family’s Thanksgiving gathering on Friday. His Mom had suggested that he show his girlfriend around the farmhouse that his grandparents had lived in—that’s where they were having their family meal. She had no idea that he and Sandy had come there before. Clay took Sandy’s hand and they headed on the same tour that they had taken on the night that I was conceived. It was kind of funny and kind of uncomfortable to walk the exact same path to the room at the end of the upstairs hall. Sandy was overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of the bed where they had become one and she whispered “I have something to tell you, Clay.”

The house was full of people and smells of Thanksgiving, but they were once again in their own little bubble upstairs in his time capsule of a room. He sat on the edge of the bed and soaked it all in for a minute. He understood that it had been more than her father’s death that had put the distance between them, it had been the burden of me pushing them apart as well. He told her that he loved her enough to drop out of school and get a job to support “us.” He told her that he wanted to marry her, but that it was completely up to her to decide. The pro-choice part of me cheered, the fatherly part of me breathed a sigh of relief that Clay was willing to do the right thing, and the child in me hoped that Sandy, my Mama this time around, would just be at peace with whatever she came to pass.

The love that I felt for her is ineffable. Sandy had been the apple of my eye when I was Steven, and one of my only hopes for her on my deathbed was that she would find a man who could fill my shoes. Clay was still a boy, but he had the potential to be a wonderful man for Sandy someday.

Finally they decided and headed downstairs to join in on the family feast. Sandy and Dr. Whitaker met eyes as she entered the dining room and she felt a little sad at the reminder of her father. Clay and Sandy, my Mama and Daddy for the moment, held hands under the table for as long as they could, both knowing that it wasn’t going to be easy.

After everyone had left with full bellies and excitement about the upcoming Christmas season, Clay pulled his parents aside. After many tears and hugs it was settled, Helen didn’t have to know because they were going to take it upon themselves to help Sandy find the resources she needed. It was a lot like the night my parents met, Mrs. Whitaker would help Sandy in hopes of keeping peace and avoiding any disturbance that the situation would cause between her mother and her. They had been through enough already. The Whitakers were proud of them for being honest and seeking help. And I, the piece of Steven that was still lingering, was proud of them too. I didn’t mind going early because the extra time I had spent with Sandy was worth it all. In her womb I got to hear Helen’s voice again, spend one last Thanksgiving with my wonderful family, and experience the overwhelming love that even a teenage mother who was afraid and grieving and confused could offer me.

I fluttered in her belly one last time as she filled out the papers and signed away my future, not to make her change her mind, but to let her know that everything would be okay. The quickening that a mother feels inside is just a sign that all is well. No matter what the final moment is, whether it is birth or whether it termination, everything is always going to be okay. Within moments it was over and I was no more. I don’t blame her, I’m even proud of her as strange as it sounds.

So there it is, my first abortion. I’m happy to report that Sandy and Clay are doing fine. They didn’t take the decision lightly, but they knew what they had to do. The time that I had with Sandy is something that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Each moment that we spend in a body, no matter how brief, is a moment worth living. I learned more from those weeks than I expected. It was almost like a calm and warm place to heal from my painful struggle with cancer that I had endured as Steven, while loving and supporting her from within. I love her more now than I did before, and believe it or not, I think she made the right choice.

You may wonder why I would make the decision to attach to the growing fetus in my daughter’s womb and the answer is simple. I saw how much pain my departure had caused her, I saw clearly in the days following my death that she was beating herself up about her activities with Clay, I saw her crying herself to sleep every single night, and I saw her falling apart at the seams. I knew that finding out that she was pregnant would just be another jolt that could easily set her on the wrong course. Her life was full of probabilities, and I knew that I could love her from within. I spent all thirteen weeks cherishing Sandy and filling her with the same soul that she missed so terribly. I know for a fact that it helped and that her future is even brighter now than I could have ever hoped. I am glad that I came and thankful that even though I was never more than a quickening to her, that she found a peace that she may not have found any other way. I may not have ended up in her arms, but believe me when I tell you that I am with her still, supporting every decision and looking forward to the day when she’s ready to embrace another child. Will it be me? No, I will wait here for my family, but I will celebrate along with them from the very first hint of movement within.