We sit next each other, angled just enough to ask and answer questions easily and study the materials he's laid out for me to see. This father’s love for his daughter, as apparent as his pain in her loss, play continually across Dan’s face as we speak of Johanna. We’ve spent over an hour talking about his remarkable child, the heartbreaking story of her murder and her beautiful, ongoing legacy. I’m just asking my last interview question: “What messages do you believe Johanna would want to give others about love and death?” His answer highlights once again the loving force his daughter was during her lifetime and the generous, sustaining legacy she represents in his and others’ lives today. A
What would you say if this was your time, your special moment to take a leap of faith and tell another, with no expectations, what would fulfill you right now? I read that off the coast of Australia a message, dated in the 1880’s, was found in a bottle. Just think – words from those long since passed who took a chance to reach over time and space in order to communicate a desire, a need, with the unknown. It turns out these 1886 sea travelers were clear about their need; they were searching for information about the Indian Ocean currents in which their ship was sailing. How about you? Are you clear about your desires? What might answer the questions of your hopes? What do you need to accompl
My afternoon’s interview with a bereaved mother reminds me, once again, that death is a puzzle whose pieces rarely fall easily into place. But, discovering how to be at peace with the clues we are given is an incredible gift . . . within our grasp. The birdbath resting in Leanna’s front yard with its intricately-designed butterflies and dragonflies poised in flight helps to signal the availability of such a gift. Dragonflies and butterflies – powerful symbols in many cultures of adaptability, self-healing, transformation, even resurrection – serve as gracious reminders that souls, like that of a treasured son who has passed, are never really lost, but instead lovingly transformed. When we in
