By Helping Others, We Heal Ourselves

May be an image of child, standing, sitting and outdoors

The most important thing that I have learned through this grief process (or roller coaster!) is compassion. After the shock of being told my dad took his life, I felt deep compassion for my dad. I felt sorrow, sadness, and empathy for my dad. That compassion I felt reminded me of Christ’s compassion that He has for us, his children.

It’s been a busy time in my life these days and months. Life keeps moving on, like it should. But I have a guilt that eats me up. That guilt is, that I haven’t thought about my dad much. Shouldn’t I be thinking about him everyday and missing him? Lately I’ve chose not to think about my grief too much. I don’t have time to dwell on it, is what my thoughts are. But in reality, I think I am at a healthy place in my grief timeline where I can keep living and I don’t dwell on my dad’s death. He wouldn’t want me to do that anyways. However, grief has a way of creeping up on me. Those feelings of my grief struggle from the first days and months come flooding back.

I’ve learned of a friend’s family member who passed away. She shared with me, almost exactly, how my sister and I felt those first few months. Thoughts such as, ‘We were trying to help him! Doctors appts were lined up for us to get the help he needs!’ And, ‘It must have been a split second decision. Earlier that day, he was having a great day and told us not to worry about him.’ After hearing this, I went to the store and the song playing was by Maroon 5 Memories. I will share the lyrics because it hits so close to home for me.

Here’s to the ones that we got
Cheers to the wish you were here, but you’re not
‘Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
Of everything we’ve been through
Toast to the ones here today
Toast to the ones that we lost on the way
‘Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
And the memories bring back, memories bring back you

There’s a time that I remember, when I did not know no pain
When I believed in forever, and everything would stay the same
Now my heart feel like December (my dad died in December) when somebody say your name
‘Cause I can’t reach out to call you, but I know I will one day, yeah

So of course that led to me trying hard to hold back tears while shopping for some chocolate to soothe my aching heart. Chocolate always helps me, even just for a moment! I ran out of there quickly and saw another reminder on my way home. A lone yellow butterfly flew by in front of my van. I haven’t seen butterflies in a long time. The yellow ones always remind me of my dad. Then another butterfly flew by seconds later. There comes that compassion flooding back to me! Compassion for my dad, and compassion for others that are going to difficult times.

When I think of this compassion, I think of God’s compassion he has for us and the atoning sacrifice Jesus Christ made. I read a talk by Tad R. Callister called ‘The Atonement of Jesus Christ’. In this talk, he stated that the Atonement “is what gives hope and purpose to our lives.” Jesus Christ suffered for us so that we may dwell with him again. Jesus, more than anyone, knows that we are going through. He has gone through it all with the Atonement! He has felt every emotion and pain each of us is going through or have gone through. His sacrifice has helped me realize that God has compassion for every one of us. He knows my dad and his heart. My dad took his own life, making that decision with his own free will. But that doesn’t mean he is damned. God has compassion for him! And for many others that are struggling. We are not perfect, nor will we ever be in this mortal life. So when I have trials, or worry about others that are going through difficult times, I know in my heart that God loves each and every one of us and has compassion over His children.

In Relief Society in my church this last Sunday, the lesson was on how we get through these hard times. Sometimes we have trials that are not from our own decisions, but from someone else’s misuse of their free agency. A friend in the class related this to Elizabeth Smart. Elizabeth Smart was kidnapped at a young age and was put through 9 months of physical and mental abuse. She is now using her trials as a way to help others. She is an author, speaker, and survivor. She is using her platform and sharing her story, helping thousands of people get through their trials. What a blessing she is to be able to use her pain and anguish to help others.

Like Elizabeth Smart, my pain from my dad’s suicide is not from any decisions I made or my use of free agency. The decision that my dad made in turn has caused unbelievable amount of pain, sorrow, despair, guilt, and anguish. However, this is all in God’s plan, as hard as that may seem. Every person on this Earth is part of God’s interrelated plan. God is using us and placing certain people in our lives for a reason. We are here on this Earth to fulfill His plan by being apart of others’ lives and being the answer to others’ prayers. There have been so many tiny moments where my prayers were answered. A heartfelt letter, food for comfort, and texts and calls at just the right time when I needed it. A simple smile given to a stranger, checking on our loved ones, and listening to the spirit and acting upon those whisperings are all part of God’s plan for us to help uplift others.

By helping others, we heal ourselves.

I will leave you with this quote by Reyna I. Aburto from her talk, ‘Thru Cloud and Sunshine, Lord, Abide with Me!’

“But it is an infinite Atonement because it encompasses and circumscribes every sin and weakness, as well as every abuse or pain caused by others.”



Here are links to the talks I quoted today. These talks are a great read!

‘Thru Cloud and Sunshine, Lord, Abide with Me!’ by Reyna I. Aburto

‘The Atonement of Jesus Christ’ by Tad R. Callister


Time. Time heals. Time helps forget. Lost time causes guilt. One thing that’s constant in life is the continuous ticking of seconds on the eternal clock of time.

Time has so many properties. Time dulls the pain of guilt. The passing of time allows us to forget, compartmentalize our memories and feelings. Time allows us to move on, live life. Time also has a funny way of taking me back to that fateful day. Reliving memories and feelings of my dad’s death. Time has so much power over us. We are powerless to its control. Time also has a power in it, that it can help us realize how much we’ve grown and the many things we have accomplished in our lives. I think back to my grief timeline. The shock of my dad’s death is gone (for the most part). I can see how much I’ve grown. I can’t believe my family and I got through that tough first year. The planning of the funeral. The struggle of grief after the funeral was over and everyone went back to their normal lives. While my family and I had to start a new normal and realize my dad is never coming back.

Time’s control over people are different for everyone. For the most part, I am content. I don’t struggle with grief as I did the first year after my dad’s death. Even when time pulls me back to the past, I can control how I deal with the grief that time has thrown me back into. I am a survivor.

Here’s where I go back in time, remembering my dad at my wedding. His funny, unique dance where he points and does a jig. When he was so nervous to walk his baby down the isle. I had to give him a pep talk in the hallway before the wedding march started. The time when my dad gave a speech, calling Dusty a “man’s man”. Telling everyone the story of how he would show my previous boyfriends his gun collection and reloading station. How those boyfriends never stuck around, but Dusty did.

Getting ready to dance to our wedding song, My Girl.
His signature pointing dance. When the lyrics played ‘My girl… talkin’ bout my girl’.
Before the march I said, “It’s ok dad. Let’s go!”
His famous wedding speech.

Time is many things. However it makes you feel, and what memories it brings to the surface, good or bad, just try and endure. Relish those good memories time brings, and endure trough the tough ones.



When Hope Turns into Despair

dad and me

Hope and despair are polar opposites of each other. But we can’t have one without the other. Hear me out on this.

I believe hope is born from despair. Sometimes we have to go through some sort of despair in our lives in order to really know what hope is. We have to learn from our miseries in this life to feel the true meaning of hope. We can appreciate hope for what it is: a new beginning, a bright light ahead, a positive attitude. If we let hope in our hearts, we will always make it out ahead. 

The hard part, is truly believing in that hope for ourselves. I feel like our brains are wired to contradict every positive thought that we have (or is that just me?!). We as humans can have so much self-doubt and guilt. Some questions cross through our minds: ‘Am I good enough?’, ‘I don’t deserve to be happy.’, ‘How can I go on with all this grief?’. These are tough questions. But that’s where hope comes in.

We have to have hope in order to survive. 

Life is crazy. It is NOT easy for anyone. Social media has a great way of showing peoples lives as close to perfect. Those are lies! No one has a perfect life. I like to call my life perfectly imperfect. I have my hiccups but its the perfect life for me.

I believe my dad was stuck in his despair. He felt lonely in his thoughts. Ashamed at what he was going through. Nightmares and flashbacks. Thoughts of suicide. He didn’t want us to worry about him. He had peaks of hope that shined through. He told a member of my family, ‘Don’t worry about me and what I said the other day! I feel great!”. Unfortunately, he said that the day before he took his life. Despair won.

Don’t let despair win. So many people care about you, no matter how much negative self talk tells you otherwise.

I miss my dad so much. I wanted to share a few memories that I have of him in order to keep my own hope alive. Hope that I will see him someday and to make great memories with my own family.

My dad used to go for runs after work. I could not keep up with his long Gazelle like legs (as his friend would say!). So I rode my bike next to him while he ran.

My dad caught a tadpole for me and we raised it in the fish tank I had, that he also helped me pick out.

My dad took me to get my first video game set. Super Nintendo! I got Street Fighter and Donkey Kong.

I tease that my dad wished I was a boy. I tagged along with him when he went paint ball shooting. We took karate together. He took me shooting. He taught me how to change the oil in the car. He and I would take the leftover oil to drop off at a local auto shop. He would mumble to himself that no one needed to know his real name and address, so he always used fake names when he had to sign for it (this made me laugh!).

Dad and I

My dad was the one that picked me up from the movie theater (instead of my mom), to tell me the bad news that my grandpa died.

My dad always let me pick a movie from blockbuster every week. It was mostly always a Goofy cartoon, and I loved hearing him laugh like Goofy.

I had to write a thesis paper in high school. My dad helped me with the materials and I wrote the paper on gun control. My teacher left a note saying that her views were changed after reading my paper. Needless to say, I aced the paper. And my dad was so proud, sharing the paper with his many friends at the gun range.

I would cry to my dad when I had a breakup. He would always say there are better fish in the sea. And then at my wedding, he made an impromptu speech saying that none of my other boyfriends stuck around when he showed them his gun collection. My husband did, and he’s a man’s man (we laugh at this too!). He was so nervous at my wedding that he needed to take some calming medicine. We were waiting in the hallway of the church, listening for the wedding march (our queue to walk out). I could tell he was nervous and he was shaking. I said, ‘Dad, you are ok. We’ve got this. Let’s go!’

I loved being my dads little sidekick. No one quite had a relationship like we did. It wasn’t perfect, but it was one of my favorites.

I wish my pep talks helped him. I told dad ‘We’ve got this!’ when he was in deep despair, a few days before he died. Despair sure is one of life’s hardest lessons.

As Dory says, “Just keep swimming!”. Better days are ahead. All you need is hope.



My Dad’s Hobby

Dad trophy

I remember taking this picture of my dad. He was so proud of his trophy and his garden. Happy times.

Target shooting. I went so many times with the my dad in the desert to practice shooting guns. I recently went for the first time in years. It was pretty emotional.

My dad’s hobby since I can remember was reloading bullets and shooting guns in the desert or at the gun range. He would do competition shooting every weekend. I would help collect all the shells and would help reload the bullets in the garage. I would pull the handle, filling each bullet with gun powder, and hearing the ‘tink’ as the reloaded bullet fell into the bowl. This would go on for hours. I often wonder if it was therapeutic for my dad to reload bullets. The sounds could be soothing in a way. There was quiet time to think and process things.

To think that my dad used his own gun with his own reloaded bullet, to end his life, is ironic. And sad. And devastating. I haven’t touched a gun in years. So when I finally used a gun to go target shooting, it was way more emotional than I thought it would be. I wasn’t quite prepared for that. After I shot my first round, the tears flowed. That gun was so powerful in my hands. The sound of the gun firing with each shot was loud and deafening. How could my dad use this method to end his life? He, more than most people, knew how powerful guns were. He taught me gun safety and always made sure that the gun was pointed down and away from anyone, loaded or not. He carried guns to protect his family. So ironic, on that fateful day, he did quite the opposite to protect his family.

I felt so sad and devastated after shooting that powerful gun in the desert. To know that my dad suffered so badly, ending his life using the one thing that brought him joy, is just so devastating. He knew it would be quick. The officers who responded to my moms gut wrenching call, said that it was in an instant that he was gone. He felt no pain. He knew what he was doing. How long did he think about doing this for? The specifics of where he was going to do it and how? Its all so nauseating to think about.

I did not do well with my target practice. I don’t think I actually ever hit the big circle on the target! Years ago I would say that I could do pretty well, hitting bottles and cans from far away. But not this time. My husband asked if I was scared of the gun. YES! I was and still am. I am still recovering from the trauma surrounding my dad and his decision. I am not afraid of the gun itself, but every time I see a gun, I think of my dad and what was going through his mind while holding it. Every time I pull the trigger on the gun, it triggers thoughts about my dad. How alone he must have felt.

Soon enough I will be able to hold that gun and make those targets. I know my dad would be so proud of me with my efforts. Until then, I will retrieve the casings from the dirt, remembering the good times with my dad on many weekends out shooting.



It’s Easy and Then It’s Tough – It’s Complicated

dads note


It’s been an easy going past few months dealing with my grief about my dad’s suicide. I don’t get as emotional when hearing his music play, or when looking at pictures of him. But that does not mean this is easy. It’s a complicated grief that I have grown to accept.

I still question everything. Why did he do this? I’ve blogged about this before and I will restate it again: My dad had a GREAT day before he died. He sent this letter and a book to my husband that day when my mom and dad were running errands. They had a good breakfast at their favorite restaurant. My dad told my mom not to worry about him, that he was feeling better. And then that night, in a split second, he walked to the garage where his gun safe was. Grabbed a gun and went to his bedroom, not bothering to close the safe. The last decision he made while on this Earth was a devastating, everlasting decision that would effect everyone’s lives around him. His friends (he had so many) and family members were all in shock.

I remember when my husband called me to tell me that he received the package from my dad. I had already arrived in Arizona to be with my family, dealing with the chaos of planning a funeral and helping my mom make crucial decisions. It was two days after his passing that this package arrived. Sort of ironic and was pretty sad.

Grief has become easier but it is still tough. I am at the point where I don’t think about him as much. And it saddens me. Looking back, I felt close to my dad when I went through the most awful stages of grief. A part of me wants to go back to those emotional stages so that I can feel closer to him. But I am evolving and growing through this grief.

It’s as if a tiny flower is growing from this seed of grief. A seed that I thought would have been covered it dirt and darkness with no room to grow. Roots have grown, stems and leaves have taken shape. There is light and beauty in this grief after all. 

I miss my dad so much. I am learning to live and grow without him physically here. But I do know he is with me. He is watching over me and my family. He is finally happy and free. And that brings me peace.



Yellow Butterfly

yellow butterfly

I really wanted (and needed) my dad to visit me during the last week of December. That was a really hard week. Christmas Eve (The last time I talked to him), his death, and his birthday, all in one week.

I felt alone and abandoned. I needed him to say hi and lift my spirits. To know that he was ok. The flood of grief came back that week. Anger, sorrow, sadness, guilt (oh so much guilt this time), and many more feelings. It was survival week for me and it was tough! It was tough to grieve and take care of my family at the same time.

He finally visited me in a dream! My family and I were having a birthday party for him. We decorated, ate steak, and ate cake. The decorations were all yellow and green. The first few months after my dad passed, I would see yellow butterflies. Once when we were at the lakes by my house, a lone yellow butterfly flew right in front of us and over the lake. I knew it was my dad. I would see many more during those first hard months. So I knew yellow was my dad’s color, and green for his love of the outdoors.

We were wrapping up the party, starting to clean up. We were sad that dad didn’t make it, and that’s when he walked in. He came barging in, sorry that he was late. He was busy up there in Heaven. Like every dream I’ve had with him, we gave each other a long, heartfelt hug. I whispered to him that I miss him so much and loved him. He had a smile on his face and said the same thing.

Everything happens in God’s timing. I needed to get through that week and be strong. My dad must have been busy that week in Heaven, helping others and visiting his family. I know he is truly at peace and finally happy! That brings me so much happiness to know that he is finally safe, back with his family, and helping others like he loved doing on this Earth.

Love and miss you dad.



Double Grief December

hands above water

Photo by Arun Kr on

This is a really hard time of year for my family. Christmas, the day my dad died, and his birthday are all within the same week.

I’ve felt like this roller coaster of grief has settled a bit, slowing down. That’s what it seemed like. However, I think I put my grief and the thoughts of my dad to a place where I don’t think about it. I’ve been so busy with school and life, I just don’t have time to think about it. Today though, is tough.

Memories have come flooding back to me from two years ago, when I got that awful call that no one wants to get. ‘Dad died, he killed himself’. Such ugly, ugly words that no one should ever hear. The absolute loss that I felt that day is indescribable. My heart felt like it was ripped out, and I was left on the ground, struggling to survive. Why dad, did you have to leave us? Why am I still sitting here, trying to pick up the pieces?

I know my dad was suffering. It was easy to see. It was so very hard to see and hear him suffer. I truly tried my best. Two days before he died, I told him he was depressed. I tried telling him that it will be ok. I can’t help to think that I may have said the wrong things. That he left because of me. It hurts.

I need to tell those thoughts to go away. I know my dad did his best, and would never leave us like this. For my mom to find him. He was sick, very sick. He loved us so much. He was the Gentle Giant.

For those that are grieving, especially during this time of year, make time for yourself. Give your soul some rest. Do something that lifts you up.




Grief, an ugly (and at times beautiful) journey

dad and me

Looking back at my grief journey, its been a quite a ride. There were so many ups and downs, back and forths. It’s been exhausting. And it will continue to be exhausting for the rest of my life.

I’ve felt peaceful, for the most part, about my dad passing. I had another dream of my dad recently, where I saw him on the porch of a house I was in. I knew he was visiting me again, so I made a point to really take it all in. I studied his features, what he was wearing, and his mannerisms. The same dad that I’ve always known. This time he had a decorated military hat on that said SGT GUNNY. I then yelled excitedly, ‘daddy!!’, and we ran to each other and hugged. I didn’t really know what Gunny meant, but I knew it had something to do with the rank in the Marines. My first thoughts of what that meant was that my dad had resumed his hobby and love for guns in Heaven. The second thought was about my best friends family. Her father in law, who passed away, was a Gunnery Sergeant during his time in the Marines. Maybe they met in Heaven and are sharing stories. Such a sweet dream.

Lately, however, has not been so peaceful. I know my dad is in a better place and I know it’s not my fault that he died, but my mind likes to tell me otherwise. I just get so frustrated. I am mad that I have to deal with these ups and downs of grief, on top of everyday life. Everyday life is HARD as it is. Trying to cope with my anxiety, raising 7 kids, trying to keep the house in order, finding the little time to spend with my husband, and then finding time for myself admist school, is just so tough! I can’t do it all and I feel like I am falling short. Depression sinks in. Thoughts of my dad and what I could have done to keep him here. It’s just too much at times. Why was I given this burden, on top of life’s daily struggles? Maybe I need to change my attitude and have less selfish thoughts. Maybe I was given this burden to help others, to save others. Still, it’s tough.

Watching and hearing my family struggle is hard. My mom is constantly depressed and suffers from PTSD. She just wants to forget about my dad at times. That stings to know that. But its the only way she knows how to move on right now. My sister, my best friend, feels so much guilt. I wish I can take that away from her. I can tell her over and over that we all did our very best. But how can we truly accept that for ourselves? Why did my dad leave us, and now we are left struggling, trying to pick up the pieces? I feel like we will never be able to put that puzzle back together. There will be so many missing pieces. How do we move on with so many missing parts of our lives?

I don’t know the answer to these awful questions. For me, I can rely on Heavenly Father to ‘lead me, guide me, walk beside me, and help me find the way’.

I miss my dad. Just yesterday, for a split second, I thought I would call him to ask about something that needs to be fixed in our house. Something I knew he would know the answer to. I then realized I can’t call him. I can’t talk to him weekly like I used to. I can’t tell him what I am doing or have done in hopes that he would be proud of me. I can’t tell him that I changed the oil in my van and how thankful I am that he taught me how to do that. I can’t tell him that it meant so much to me when I was younger and needed a ride home after a late night, no questions asked. I can’t talk to him how Deacon has a really great shot and would make a great competition shooter one day. There’s so many little things that I wish I could tell him. The void in my heart is strong.

Maybe telling my dad that he was depressed and needed help wasn’t a good thing. Maybe to him it felt like his physical pains were disregarded. Maybe he felt that we thought he was crazy. It hurts that I truly tried my best to keep him here, but he didnt stay. He always called me when he got results from the doctors, good and bad. He said, ‘Your dear old dad will be around a little longer’, when he got his cancer free results. ‘Well, the doctor said there’s nothing that he can do to help my symptoms’, he said, with the feeling of defeat. He depended on me to talk to him and share his ups and downs. Did I let him down? Did I say the wrong things? Should I have visited him right away, after that call of defeat?

It’s hard to share my vulnerabilities with the world. I feel like I fall short most of the time. But I think it’s good to share that we aren’t perfect, we are all human, and it’s ok to fall down.

I am still in shock that my dad took his life and is truly gone. It’s such a surreal feeling sometimes.

Hang in there friends. Life is tough. But we all need to pick ourselves up and STAY.



It’s been awhile

adult background beach blue

Photo by Lukas on

It’s been awhile, since I’ve written anything. 7 months to be exact. In that time, we celebrated kids’ birthdays, had our 7th and last baby in May, been busy with doctors appointments, and the events with summer. Life moves on.

After a loss life might seem like it sits still, but is moving on for others. It’s like sitting still while the world spins. I remember what that was like after my dad passed away. I was frozen in time and it was hard to move on, physically and emotionally. Time does eventually move on and it won’t feel frozen forever. There’s always hope. Even if its a sliver of it.

There’s been grief for friends of mine recently. Tragic losses. It’s so hard to see my friends go through the grief of it all, knowing what it feels like. If I could, I would take that grief away. But I can’t.

Recently, I was able to listen to a devotional talk by an authority in my church, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. He explained that we will have hardships in our life, tragic ones. He tells us that God loves broken things. He related it to wheat. We need broken wheat to make bread. It takes broken clouds to nourish the earth. He wants to heal our broken hearts. We need to trust, believe and perservere. How are we going to learn anything if we lived a perfect life? Whatever you believe in, believe in hope. There is hope, help, and healing if you open your heart to it.

My mission of this blog was to help others going through what I endured. Hoping to make the sting a bit easier to work through. In turn, I learned alot about myself. It’s very theraputic to write about our struggles, and our triumphs.

I have felt at peace about my dad for awhile now. I love him and miss him so much. I still wish he was here. I really miss our talks. It was strange not being able to talk to him after I had my son. But I knew he was there.

Last night I had a dream about my dad. I was sitting together with family at the dinner table, and he appeared in the empty seat across from me. His presense was so strong. The presense was ‘heavy’ or ‘solid’ if that makes any sense. It truly felt that he was sitting across the table from me, in his Earthly body. He was wearing his typical flannal shirt, and was chewing on a toothpick like he used to do. He was smiling and laughing. He let me know that he is here with all of us, like a puppy that follows its mom, never being far from our side. And from time to time he will communicate with us when we really need it. But that we should be comforted to know that he won’t ever leave our sides, even if we don’t feel his presense.

I miss him so much! Some days I still can’t believe he ended his life the way he did. It gives me comfort though, knowing he is watching over us. I know that I will see him again.

If you are grieving and its becoming tough, don’t give up. Have hope. There is always hope. I promise it will get better.





dad oregon coast

Peace. That’s what one hopes to find, through their grief journey and recovery.

The first weeks and months after my dad’s passing was an emotional roller coaster. I just kept telling myself that I will need to find peace. That peace will come. But I don’t think I truly believed that, at the time. How am I going to find peace with this situation I have been put in? My father killed himself (still hard words to type). I suffered a tragic miscarriage 4 months after my dad’s passing. How in the world can I find peace in these tragic events?

I would read that quote, ‘time heals all wounds’ during my grief journey. I thought that was bullcrap. I am still going to have these deep wounds and life will still be hard. But you know what? Time has actually helped. I started to realize maybe that quote does have some truth to it.

I have made it through the first year from my dad’s passing. That first year is supposed to be the hardest. Oh how it was! So many emotions, so many mornings I had no motivation to get out of bed, and so many questions.

I think I have now found some of that chunk of peace that I’ve read and heard about. I know my dad is safe, happy, and most importantly, at peace. He is patiently building his camp, gathering a soothing campfire, waiting for us to join him. He is reunited with his beloved mother, stepfather, and sister that he lost so many years ago. He is free of pain, depression, and worldly worries. I know this with all my heart, and that brings me peace.

Now don’t get me wrong, I will still have days that I question why this has happened, why did he do this. I still have a wound. I still think about my dad all the time. I still think about how my mom is left alone to navigate this world without her husband. But now that I have that sense of peace, it makes managing these wounds easier.

A year ago I posted on facebook about a card that my friend sent me: “My friend sent me a card last week and it started out with ‘Not sure what the divine plan is in all of this, and maybe it’s not for us to know’. Those words were very comforting to me. We just need to have faith in God’s plan. It’s not easy some days, but I do know God has a plan for all of us, even with tragic events in our lives, but he loves each and every one of us.” This is still true! God has a plan, and our lives are already mapped out for us. He does not give us these tragic events in our lives to be vindictive or hurtful. He gives us these trials so that we can learn about ourselves and to help others. Isn’t this life all about trying to get through it the best we know how, while helping others along the way?

Those that have recent wounds, that are grieving from losing a loved one, who just doesn’t feel like peace will come…. I am here to give you hope. I am a living example of this. PEACE WILL COME. There is not a timeline for it. It may come in months or years. But don’t lose faith! Just keep riding that roller coaster of life, trying your best. Soon enough you will find that peace that your heart has been searching for.