Love Never Dies Home

To order
Love Never Dies
from Amazon

Love Never Dies, A Newsletter about the Journey from Loss to Love


May/June/July 2005
Issue #15
Sandy Goodman, Editor



Welcome to the "LOVE NEVER DIES" newsletter. Please e-mail me after perusing this issue with any ideas, submissions, or questions for the August issue. Thank you!

You are receiving this newsletter because you expressed an interest in it. If you would like your name removed from this mailing list, please see the instructions at the end of the newsletter. This subscriber list is not made available to other companies or individuals. I value every subscriber and respect your privacy.





IN THIS ISSUE

=> From the Editor
=> Poetry
=> Resources
=> News and Tidbits
=> Tips and Ideas
=> Ponderings
=> From our Readers
=> Copyright and Subscribe/Unsubscribe information

FROM THE EDITOR

Once again, I apologize for not getting the newsletter out on time, but once again a small voice is telling me to trust the process. There's a reason...well, you all know the drill. Thank you for understanding.

In May, I was pleased to receive a mini reading from a friend in a chat room. JJ told me that I would be going on a trip, and that the trip would be a necessary step for me. She also saw rosary beads. Since I am not Catholic, and know nothing about rosary beads, and have no close friends who have rosary beads, I had to assume that the rosary beads were a link to John Edward. And since I had tickets and plans to go see John in Denver in June, I also had to assume that the trip JJ referred to as a "necessary step" was that one. I assumed right. Let me explain.

Four years after Jason died, I was thrilled to learn that John Edward was going to be presenting in Utah. We planned the weekend trip as our weekend with Jason, and I was only focused on one thing. I wanted a live reading with my son. He already knew John, he knew how to get his attention, there was simply no excuse for him not to show up. Apparently, my status as Mom still mattered to Jason, because Jason complied with my request. It was the last reading of the day and it was amazing.

Two years later we went to see John in Denver. Friends accompanied us and we were able to visit with John back stage. John was inspiring and funny and truly remarkable, but Jason didn't show and we were disappointed. We had gone to the event, anticipating a long awaited phone call. After listening to everyone else's conversations, and waiting in line for our turn, we were frustrated when the phone never rang for us.

In 2003, John appeared with John Holland, Suzane Northrop, and Robert Brown in Las Vegas. All three mediums were incredible, the energy was spectacular, and a friend who went with us received a message from her son. Once again, I spent a lot of time and energy asking Jason to show up. It had been three years since our last reading with John, and even though I had other contacts with Jason, I wanted him to come through with John. It didn't happen. I went home a bit downhearted.

And now it is two years later and we have just returned from Denver and our fourth John Edward event. Blessed with front row seats, we were "in position" and waiting ninety minutes before John was to begin. Crossing Over segments were playing on two large screens on either side of the stage and people were choosing seats . . .and choosing seats . . . and choosing seats . . . for what seemed like hours. The bathroom line was long, the food line was longer, and how could I leave my seat to go stand in line when I only had half an hour to talk to Jason about coming through in a reading, at least for his brother who has never had one and is his twin afterall and what should I tell him to say or do that will . . . . Stop it, Sandy. Just Breathe.

And so . . after a few deep breaths, I found myself asking Jason to "do . . . what you need to do. Come through, or don't. Line them up for John, or don't. Bridge the gap, or don't. I know you're here. Nothing you say or do can make that any more real. I love you." And then I relaxed.

John appeared on stage on time and ready to go. He has a way about him that makes you feel as if you are sitting in your living room visiting with an old friend. A friend who has travelled more than you, seen some things you haven't, but who wants to share his experiences with you so that you can also enjoy their allure. John talked about his Australian trip, his family, his days on Crossing Over. He shared stories that made us laugh, and then pulled us right back in to talk about grief and loss and compassion. He discussed the death of a child, mentioned my book, and then asked me to share Jason's story with the audience. He gave an example of what "they" can see from "there" and what "we" can see from "here" by equating it to being 10 feet above some highway in Manhattan and then being 100 feet above it...well, you get the picture. And so do they. The whole picture. Not because they are "above" us, but because they are able to see life from a different vantage point.

John talked about "programming our energy." He was referring to what we do to set ourselves up for communications, for synchronicity, for miracles. Do we meditate? Do we take time to breathe? Do we talk to our loved ones who have passed and let them know in whatever way we are comfortable that they are still a part of our lives? How are we programming our energy? Positively or negatively? Are we opening channels or are we closing doors and double locking them?

At some point, while answering a woman who had asked a question I simply do not remember, John stopped midsentence and said, "You lost three sons?" As the young mother acknowledged this enormous loss, I found myself up and walking across the front of the room. I don't remember getting out of my chair, but was headed in her direction before knowing what my intention was. I wanted her to know that I too had chosen to start over when quitting would have been easier, and I wanted her to know that she was not alone. As I hugged this complete stranger, and swallowed the huge lump in my throat, I thanked Jason for the psychic shove in her direction.

Once the readings began, the positive energy in the room practically boomed. I imagine it is always like this at John's events, but because of my singular focus on getting a reading, I missed all the side shows. The chills, the waves of emotion, the laughter, the smiles on a mom's face, the tears running down the cheek of the woman behind the man who is beside the girl whose sister died. The sharing of stories, the sharing of pain . . . compassion and love so thick and so powerful I could almost feel it holding me.

After what seemed to be only an hour or so, John was reminded by his staff that his time was up and he had to go. Obviously annoyed with having to stop, he finished up the reading he was doing and said goodbye to those of us he had shared his soul with for nearly three hours. Swallowing the last lump of the day, I sent a telepathic "Thank You" in John's direction, and another one to Jason.

Having a few days off after the weekend in Denver allowed me to spend some time programming my energy. Things were good and I was still pondering the difference between John's recent event and the three previous ones. What or who had changed? As usually happens while asking questions of myself and of the universe, strange things began popping up in my rearview mirror.

I remembered that after the show, Joshua (Jason's twin brother) remarked that he had enjoyed John's "talk" at the beginning more than he had the readings. Now this was his first time witnessing the validation that John shares. He has never had a reading. He has lost his twin brother. And he announces that ". . . the readings weren't really that important." Huh?

I recalled Josh's casual decision in the past few days to plan a trip to Albuquerque where his older brother lives. He plans to leave on July 20th, two days before the anniversary of his brother's death. He has not mentioned this date for nine years. It was always there, but never verbalized. But this year he said, "Good time to go, don't ya think?"

"Yes...." I replied, but I know I looked at him with my eyes squinted. What was going on?

Then yesterday, he told me he gave away a picture of his one year old son. I went off on the cost of ink and photo paper, but stopped myself in time to hear him say, "I gave it to Jason."

"Jason who?" (He does have a couple friends named Jason, I am not totally stupid...)

"Jason Goodman." (Okay, duh. Maybe I am.)

"Oh. Okay. Ummm, how did you do that?" I asked.

"I left it at the cemetery."

And then, in the week and a half since Josh saw and heard John in Denver, he has asked for four of my books to give to people he has "run into." He keeps "running into" these people who are grieving a loss and suddenly he remembers his mom knows something about that. She even wrote a book about it. And actually he knows something about that feeling called grief also. And he just saw this guy in Denver and . . .

I call a friend and ask her which recent year was the most difficult for her after her husband's accidental death. I remembered her talking about one year hitting especially hard.

"The tenth one. Why?"

"Oh. Hmmm. Well, Josh is being kind of weird and I thought maybe it was the year or something. We are coming up on nine years in July and he's mentioning Jason all of a sudden, all of the time. He's not upset, just including him, saying his name, doing stuff for him . . . ya know? I mean maybe he has always done these things, but if so, he hasn't been this open about it. I'm a little concerned and wondering what is going on."

"Do you think maybe it's because he went to see John Edward?"

Oh. Oh, my. Suddenly it all seems a little bit clearer. Josh went to see John with no expectations. He sat there and listened and soaked up every bit of information that John gave out. He didn't worry about who was coming through, he didn't beg his brother to say something, he didn't try to convince the powers that be that he needed a reading more than the mother holding the teddy bear. He simply stayed aware, in the moment, and "programmed his energy" to be open and positive. When he walked back to the car that afternoon, he walked lighter. He smiled more.

That's what John's events do. They spread light. All we have to do is be receptive enough, and open enough, to let that light in. Thank you again, John. You done good.



POETRY

At Night

it is in the still of the night
that i miss you the most,
when the wind is calm
and the air is heavy.
lying with eyes wide open,
i ask you to come to me
just for a little while,
in whatever
form or fashion
you prefer.
i wait patiently,
searching the corners of the room,
for just a flash of purple,
or white . . . or indigo . . .
anything but black.
as sleep intrudes,
i close my eyes
and find you waiting patiently,
for me to come to you.



RESOURCES

Go. Go now. Take the Oath.

Good energy, spiritual chat- Innerlight

Coming soon to Amazon-

The Pema Chodron Collection: Pure Meditation: Good Medicine: From Fear to Fearlessness by Pema Chodron

Healing With Spirit by Caroline Myss, Michael Toms

NEWS AND TIDBITS

I will be presenting The Gifts of Grief at the Bereaved Parents USA Gathering on July 14th-17th. In September I am speaking in Longmont, Colorado for the local Compassionate Friends chapters, and in October, I have been invited to present at Celebrating Mystics, Miracles & Magic

TIPS AND IDEAS

It's summer, it's hot. Take time to breathe, meditate, journal, remember. Take a walk early in the morning when the world is still sleeping. Blow bubbles. Fly a kite. Smell a newly opened rose. Send off a balloon, plant a tree, write a letter. If grief is too new, or you are too tired, just rest. Grief will wait in the shadows until you are ready . . . and love will hold your hand.

PONDERINGS

My girlfriend told me that there are people who would say that there is something wrong with me if she were to tell them that I feel joy when I think of Jason. She said that they would not understand how I could feel good when I have lost my son. I say it isn't about feeling good or feeling sad. It is about knowing that I have not lost him.

This one came out of the blue last week. Grief is a small price to pay for the gift we received when they came into our lives.

FROM OUR READERS

These are from Deb Kosmer of Oshkosh, Wisconsin. As you will guess by what you feel when you read her poems, Deb has a bit of experience with loss. Because of that experience, she is also a Bereavement Support Coordinator.

SOME DAYS

Some days it hurts so to talk about you
Some days it hurts more not to
Sometimes I start to share a memory
But the words won't come

I know they are there somewhere
Like you but the connection is broken
And no matter how hard I try
I can't find my way.

It scares me when this happens
I wonder if I am losing my mind?
I have already lost you
And now...???

My mind like my tongue plays tricks on me
Some days are better than others
Some days I even laugh
Then I know I am not really frozen

I still have a heart
I still have my mind
I still have a soul
I still have a voice

They may be wounded now
But in time
I will heal
I will speak your name
and
SMILE.


I NEED

I need you to be quiet
to not fill the air
with your words
all the time

I need you to listen
to the silence
as I do, to hear what it says
and say nothing, just listen.

I need to know youre sincere
that you can be depended upon
to keep your word
to do what you say.

I need you to ask me
not tell me
what or how
I should feel or think.

I need to know
that you will not run
when it gets ugly or messy
or too uncomfortable

I need to know that
I still have a place
in this world
that has become so foreign
that you see me
who I am
what I have to offer
that I am more than
what has happened
that you are not afraid
that you cannot catch from me
the tangled web
I am in.


HOPE

Hope like love is a 4 letter word.
When you died I was afraid
Your love went with you.
And I thought hope had left me too.

I was alone and in pain
Thinking of you
Missing you
Screaming for you

Then one day I felt your love
And it was like you were still here
And hope returned, I felt it
And I knew it was real
Like your love for me
Was still real

I smiled knowing
That our love survived
And knew that
Id survive.



COPYRIGHT INFO
Copyright 2005, All Rights Reserved

Please pass this newsletter on, in it's entirety, to your friends.

SUBSCRIPTION INFO
Subscriptions to this newsletter are free. Love Never Dies is a quarterly newsletter. If you have received this from a friend, and you'd like to subscribe, or you wish to Unsubscribe, simply visit http://www.loveneverdies.net and fill out the short form at the bottom of the page. Online issues can be found here.

They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies . . . ~William Penn

Sandy Goodman
Love Never Dies
sandy@loveneverdies.net