Blog #118 A dead friend keeps bugging me to talk to his daughter for him

 April 16, 2011

 

       One of our computer technicians at Canoga High School was killed while riding his motorcycle to Oxnard to spend a relaxing weekend on his boat.  He used to teach history and stage crew at Canoga High School for some years.  Sometimes I would corner him and bombard him with questions regarding set designs, as I was teaching Play Production.

     Many liked Dan because he was extremely comfortable to be around and joked around. He fixed any technical problems we had or helped me understand how to work various programs, and he would only chide me a little when he found a cord unplugged.  He was never rude or disrespectful and always loved to take the time to converse.  I always had a soft spot in my heart for him.  Three days after Dan's death, I sat in a faculty meeting attempting to focus on the information our principal was trying to impart; however, I was finding it difficult.   I was exhausted, and all I wanted to do was take a nap.  Suddenly, I felt this energy push me to the left as I saw Dan's spiritual body shoving himself between his friend, Richard, and me.  It felt like a substantial balloon was pushing me to the side.  I apologized to the neighboring teacher.  

      To my surprise, Dan's neck stretched like a rubber band, so his head was directly in front of Richard's face.  My eyes widened as I had never seen this before except maybe in cartoons and the movie, "The Mask." Richard obviously wasn't open to seeing Dan, so he decided to surprise his friend by doing something shocking in hopes that he would notice him, but Richard obviously didn't because suddenly, Zap! Dan's energy vanished, along with my feeling of claustrophobia.  I chuckled to myself and brought my attention back to the speaker.  A few people at my table looked perplexed by my facial expressions.  I just smiled, gave a quick nod, and continued smiling and focusing on my principal's message.

     A few days later, I decided to type up the library experience because I feared it would dribble out of my brain.  While typing, 'he had pushed between us because he was trying to get Richard to notice him,' the 'e' refused to work.  I kept hitting the key over and over again, harder each time, worried that I was going to break my new computer.  Out of frustration, I said, "Will you stop?" My question wasn't really directed at anything; I was just ticked.  Immediately the keys started working, but after a couple blinks, the key problem started again.

     Then it hit me; perhaps it was Kyle, my son, who had passed away trying to joke around with me like he used to, but I didn't feel him around.  So in my head, I asked, 'Who are you?' Dan popped in with an intense voice, opposite his usual tranquil one, "I wasn't trying to scare Richard; I wanted him to know I was here, spiritually.  If he knew I was nearby, I thought it might help him process his grief faster.  We were close." I thanked him for correcting me, and now the 'e' worked.  I couldn't believe this had just happened.  Unbelievable.  I thought about telling Richard about Dan, but I knew he would roll his eyes, so I didn't.

       After about a week, Dan kept popping into my head, saying, "I need to give you a message to my daughter." His voice was anxious, but I was so busy with school and family that I couldn't slow down to take the time to listen to him.  Again, the nervousness that I felt from Dan's spirit was unusual as Dan is, or should I say, such a mellow guy. Stacey, his daughter, was a fellow teacher and friend who taught history at the same school. I promised myself that once I got home and put the kids to bed, I'd slow myself down to receive his message.

     Well, with helping our kids with homework

 and cooking, I forgot about my promise.  Finally, after about 5 days and more pop-ins from Dan, I sat my butt down on the sofa in my kitchen on a Sunday morning before anyone woke up.  I placed a large book on my knees with a piece of paper and readied my pencil.  After taking a few nice deep breaths to slow my energy down, I softly said, "Okay, Dan, you have my undivided attention."

      " You don't need to write this down." His words were quick and seemed impatient. Before he said anything, I could feel the energy in the room change and felt his presence.

    "But Dan, my memory isn't that great, I've gone through a lot of trauma these last few years, so I'm afraid I'm going to leave out some important details if I don't.  Also, I'm worried I won't remember our conversation because I'vemediums rarely retain information about what is said. After all, they are in an altered state." He replied that he understood.

      He seemed very agitated as his words spit out rapidly. I don't even know what I was writing; I swear my pencil took over. I felt like I was in a dream-like state, barely conscious of anything around me as he blurted out his message, and I, like a mad woman, scribbled away, attempting to keep up. 

       'I love you so much!  (The emotion I felt was so overpowering my stomach tightened into a hard ball.  I could hear him struggling to fight back his tears.) Remember the  importance of family.  I know you're angry but remember your family. I'm sorry I wasn't always there for you.  Forgive me for not being around for my grandchildren.  I was riding my motorcycle, thinking about what I could have done differently in my life. I'm usually so careful. It's such a strange feeling to be here. I'm so sad I can't be there for my two youngest kids, but I know you'll be there for them. You've been an amazing daughter. I'm so proud of you.  I want to know you'll do the right thing for everyone.  Keep anger out.  I love you.'

    Then he asked if he could come and talk to me later.  I felt very strange talking to someone I don't know who is in the spirit state.  Yes, I've spoken to family members who have passed away, a close friend and an acquaintance asked me to deliver a message to their family member, but I was such a chicken shit that they would think I was crazy that I didn't deliver the message.

     Before Dan left, he asked if he could come back and talk to me later.   I told him, of course.  I glanced at my notes, and I could barely read them, my writing was nearly illegible, and some lines ran over others and up the side of the page, but I guess that's what happens when you're in a trance.

     I waited two weeks before giving that message to his daughter, Stacey.  I don't know why, but I didn't feel the urgency.  Second, I felt like Stacey wasn't mentally ready to receive word from her dead father, and honestly, I felt awkward and worried about what she would think about me talking to her dad.  Then one day, she told me that she had to speak to me about an incident that had occurred, so during our nutrition break, I stopped by her room.      

She confided that she really believed in what I had said at her father's memorial, that there is another side once a person passes away, but you have to keep your eyes, ears, and dreams open for a visit from the deceased.

      Stacy admitted that she was extremely apprehensive about picking a lawyer regarding her father's estate because she was frightened about choosing the wrong one.  She had asked friends if they knew of one they could recommend, and she had researched a few and was still confused about which would be the best.  But luckily, a friend had referred someone to her, and she immediately knew he was the right person when he heard his last name. "His name was Mr. Bun." I looked at her, confused.  She smiled, "Don't you get it, bunny… Mr. Bun. He's been a fabulous lawyer, perfect."

     I did get it. I started laughing. I flashed back to the day of the memorial.

     On the way to Stacey's house, I decided to stop by Ralph's Grocery Store to pick up a sympathy card and some flowers for her.  But once I stepped into the supermarket, I thought, everyone is going to give her flowers, maybe I can find something different, but I wondered what the heck that was going to be when my eyes zeroed in on about a twenty-four-inch tall, gorgeous rabbit with his ears standing straight up.  It was made of thin twigs, giant button eyeballs, and a big ribbon wrapped around its neck.

     A voice in my head said, 'Buy the rabbit.' Okay, I thought.  No voice has ever told me to buy something before, but I figured someone on the other side felt it was necessary.  I wouldn't know if it was the voice Dan's voice because the grocery store was a bit noisy, but I had this feeling it was.

     When I arrived at Stacey's house, I had talked myself into leaving it in the car.  I knew full well it was a strange gift to give someone at a memorial.  Sitting in the car, I watched people walk inside the house.  I realized I better get my act together, so finally, I got the nerve to bring the rabbit.   I was tempted to leave the rabbit on the table without explaining why I bought it, but I told myself to stop being a chicken shit.  Stacey walked up to me, welcomed me to her house, and thanked me for coming.  I handed her the rabbit and said, "This rabbit reminded me of your dad.  He had such a big stature, and yet he was so mellow and kind." Then I confessed, "Okay, a voice told me to buy it."

     Her eyes were red from crying, yet she still gave me her crooked little smile, hugged me, and said, "It does remind me of my dad." I looked around and felt awkward as so many had brought flowers.  Oh, well… I thought.   Many of his friends shared their beautiful memories with Dan, and I shared mine.

      The bell rang, and the students nosily entered my classroom.  I looked at Stacey and laughed.  I finally got it. "Oh,  my God, I get it now.   Bunny… Mr. Bun…  Wow!  I can't believe it.  And that's how you chose your lawyer?" I was totally in disbelief.

      A huge grin spread across Stacey's face, and she nodded. "I now know my father had sent that bunny message through you.  He never trusted lawyers, so he wanted to ensure I found an honest one."

     I was on the brink of sharing her father's message, but I knew we had to return to teaching.  I still felt the message that her father had delivered wasn't urgent, so I put off telling her for a few more weeks.  Finally, I got the nerve to share the message during lunch.  I said unsurely, "I hope you're open to your father transitioning to the other side.  He is still alive." I watched her face, still unsure of myself. "He gave me a message a few weeks ago, but I haven't told you because it didn't seem urgent anymore.  But I still feel like I need to share it because he and I want you to know there is another side."

    Her eyes widened, and I was positive she was going to tell me I was crazy, but to my surprise, she responded, "After the bunny thing, I defiantly believe." I read my scribbles from the paper, sometimes having difficulty deciphering my writing because I had written Dan's message without looking at the paper.

   Stacy wiped away a few tears rolling down her cheeks. "I was overreacting to some financial issues regarding my stepmother, whom I don't trust.  I was considering hiring a lawyer because I was concerned about not having enough money to put my half-brother and half-sister through school.  But I realized I had to back off because my anger and frustration with my stepmom kept me awake at night, so I've been exhausted, almost unable to function at school."

    She again thanked me for delivering her father's message." I know exactly what my father was talking about.  I guess he was afraid I'd react out of anger.  He wanted me to remember that  family is more important than fighting for the money for my brother and sister."

     

Post 117 - Havening, an Easy Technique which Aids an Individual into Calming their Distress.

      Havening is a somewhat new alternative therapy that utilizes gentle touch. A more involved version uses touch, eye movement, and tapping. However, today, I'm going to teach the simple method, which is easy to use anywhere at any time. This approach aims to help you create a "haven" for yourself in one short session. Haven means a place of safety or refuge.

     The creators of this technique are two brothers, Dr. Steven Ruden and Dr. Ronald Ruden. Therapeutic touch helps treat mental health symptoms by changing brain pathways linked to emotional distress. I wish I knew this technique while going to school. I used to sweat and almost pass out before and during a test. Of course, that fear made me forget most of the material. (I wish every teacher and parent, oh shoot, the whole world, could learn this method.)

This technique addresses many types of emotional distress and is known to treat:

Phobias                                  painful memories                         depression

anxiety                                   difficulty sleeping                        fear and panic

unwanted cravings                 memory problems                        chronic pain

short-term/chronic pain          nightmares                                    

mood swings                                         debt, drought, old boyfriends  and girlfriends                                                                                                               ONLY  KIDDING....

                                                         A few of the techniques:

                                              https://threearms.com/havening-techniques/                                                                                                                                                                  

        People who have practiced this technique have noticed an improvement in their well-being, whether at work, school, various sports, or working out.   

     The theory rests on the idea that touch can help boost the production of serotonin in your brain, a chemical manufactured in the body and acts as a neurotransmitter responsible for regulating people's moods. The release of serotonin has a soothing effect that helps relieve mental health symptoms and painful memories from troubling you. This helps you relax and detach from an upsetting memory or experience.

DO NOT USE IT ON YOURSELF IF YOU SUFFER FROM PSYCHOLOGICAL DISORDERS LIKE PTSD OR C-TSD, AS IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT YOU WORK WITH A MENTAL HEALTH CARE PRACTIONER.

STEPS:

1.     Think of an issue you'd like to work on. Ask your body from 1-10 what number it would   

rate the problem.

2.      Keep your eyes open when doing this exercise because I have found when I close my eyes, I start tumbling into my story, reviewing the painful moments. Stay in the now.

3.     Take a couple of deep breaths as this tends to slow your energy down. In through your nose and out through your mouth. (Another technique for slowing your energy down.)

4.     The order of the following exercises is not important.  

5.     Do each round about 4 to 6 times. (Your body will tell you what it needs. Listen.)

6.     Remember to breathe into the nose and out the mouth while rubbing.

7.     Rub your palms back and forth while being aware of your slow, even breathing.

8.     Rub down from your shoulder joints to your elbows. Eyes open. Breathe

9.     Rub from the middle of the forehead to your hairline, and don't forget to breathe.

10. Rub from the middle of the nose across the cheeks, breathing slowly.

11. Rub from the temple down to the edge of the jawline.

12. Now, think about the problem you chose to work on today and reevaluate from 1-10. Has the number dropped? Trust your body when you ask. Trust me, it knows how it feels.   It should at least lower by 4 points. If it doesn't, do another full round again. Try to get the rating to 2 or 3, especially if you at first were 9 or 10.) Now, what number would you rate the problem? If it's still 5 or more, do a couple more rounds.

13.   Ask your body how many days it will take for your body to process the new you. Often, it's 1 to 4 days, so you could have a few of the temporary side-effects below. Be kind to yourself. If need be, do a few more rounds after a couple of days to release more stuck energy. Make the time to 'Self Care.'

14. Another tool you could add to this technique is called Resourcing. This is where you pull in your favorite animal or person you trust or feel safe with.   Remember, if you draw in a relative, he is not the same person he was when on earth. That individual is now there for you whenever you need him or her. You can also use an item. I have a keychain with a four-leaf clover hanging from it. When I rub it, it makes me feel safe and protected. Or maybe a stuffed animal calls out to you.  You can feel the arms of your loved one around you and know they're there for you. 

                            Give yourself permission to feel, but don't get pulled into the story!

    You might notice some temporary effects after a session; this means your body is adjusting. If you are feeling a bit out of whack,  run a few more havening sessions on yourself to release the stuck energy.

Some temporary side effects:

lightheaded                                        overly sensitive                 emotional numbness                        moody/grouchy                                 bodily tension                    discomfort or increased anger 

Congratulations, you did a fabulous job of taking care of you!

Any questions, insights, or shares: contact me at: tbboivin8@gmail.com

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQXbZmuSbFs

https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/havening#risks

Post 116 - Isn't it Amazing How We Can Learn Lessons from Our Children?

       

                   

 

                                                     A picture of Nicole and her brother.  

        Attempting to divide my time between my daughter, Nicole, and her older brother, Kyle, I sat between them like a piece of salami on a sandwich. Kyle grumbled about not understanding another math problem, so I leaned over to help him. Overall, he remembered a lot from first grade, so I was thankful that there were no outbursts or meltdowns that day. Nicky had chosen to work out of her 'My Little Pony coloring book, so I returned to filling in the pony's body light purple as she had ordered, and she busied coloring the legs and face, past the lines, of course, a bright red.

    At times, I felt like I had to be Super Woman to ensure I allotted my time between my kids. Sometimes I was perfect; other times, I would give myself a 'D,' too tired after a day's work. Kyle required more of my energy because he had many learning problems, including Attention Deficit Disorder, as we learned a year later. 

     I glanced at my watch; it was already time to start dinner. Mr. Time seemed to pass by even quicker now that I have children. I pulled from the refrigerator the salad makings and the bowl of chicken soaking in Teriyaki Sauce.

     "I'm going to help you with dinnew," Nicky said,  having difficulties pronouncing a few consonants. A trait that runs on my side of the family, a comment Alan had made often to tease me.

     "You are? I'd like that." After pouring the olive oil into the frying pan, I turned the heat on low. The burner made a clicking sound,  making me do a little bunny hop backward. Quickly, I turned the burner off and turned the knob again, careful not to turn the burner down too low.

     I glanced over at Nicole as she grabbed a few crayons and stuffed them into the box; a few spiraled onto the table, so she scooped them up again, achieving her goal. I threw the celery, carrots, broccoli, and beans into the sink and started washing them. Thump, thump, thump, Nicky scooted her chair over the terracotta tiled floor towards the center kitchen island. Kyle had finished his homework and disappeared upstairs to play. 

      "I want to help," she said, so I told her she could help me dry the vegetables and handed her a clean dish towel. At four, Nicole had shot up this last year and was much taller than Kyle had been at her age.

     Nicole was excited about sharing her day, and as usual, she chattered as fast as a locomotive flying down the tracks at high speed. With her speech impediments, I found it difficult to follow what she was saying that evening. Usually, I'd have the energy to ask her to slow down. However, that night was not one of those nights because my brain was stuffed with work. Once we taught her brother to stop talking for her, she started chattering like crazy as if to make up for the lost time. I loved listening to her excited Minnie Mouse voice most of the time, but sometimes it pierced the fog in my overactive brain, and that night was one of those nights.

     While Nicole was ripping the lettuce leaves into ant-sized pieces and throwing them into the salad bowl, I cut up the vegetables while I mentally reviewed what I would teach to my students tomorrow. I had four different lesson plans to worry about five days a week, which was a bit overwhelming. 

     It was difficult to concentrate as Nicole kept jabbering on, still not used to how much Nicole talked now. Kyle had a habit of thinking he had to be her interpreter or spokesperson, which was cute for a while, but we realized this wasn't good for her because she was behind developmentally with her speech, but not anymore. Now our little lady talked like crazy as if to make up for the lost time. Wah, I just remembered that I still had some English essays to correct that evening which I had already put off for a few days.

   "Mama, yew not listening to me," Nicole whined. Instantly, I snapped back into the now as if I had been hit by a volleyball. Frozen in the middle of ripping some lettuce, my beautiful daughter stared at me. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

   "Yes, I am," I reassured her.

   She quipped back like the clever little girl she was, "No, you not."

   I continued to chop the carrots. I inquired, furrowing my eyebrows, "How do you know I'm not listening?" sounding like a detective. The hot oil sputtered as I placed the chicken breasts gingerly into the pan, dashing to set the splatter screen on top of the skillet before the oil spits out any more commentaries.

     She answered with surprising insight for such a little girl, "Cuz you keep saying, Uh, huh all de time." 

     I froze. The obnoxious fluorescent lights from above seemed like a spotlight illuminating my guilt-ridden face. I looked into her angelic face only to detect, this time, a worried look. A jab of guilt surprised my heart. Oh, my God, I had become, an uh, huh parent, something I had promised myself I would never be. Years earlier, my junior high English students complained about their parents being too busy to listen to them, so they'd say, uh, huh while their teen was attempting to talk to them.

    Teary-eyed, I embraced my bright daughter and kissed her on her curly head. "You're right! I'm so sorry that I wasn't listening. I made a mistake. Please always remind me when I do that. Promise me." I genuinely was furious at myself. If I had the ability to kick myself in my little butt right then, I would have, and I would have deserved it. 

     Her dimples outshone her smile. Semi-curly hair bounced up and down as she nodded her head, "I pwamise." I loved listening to her mispronounce her 'r's.  

     "Sometimes mommy's head gets so busy with school stuff and family things that it's hard to be a good listener. Start all over again, and this time I'll really, really listen. I promise!"  I was surprised by how furious I was at myself but overjoyed that Nicole could express her feelings and that I was open to respecting them and apologizing, at least that time. I tweaked her cheek, and she giggled.

     "We lewned colows today."  

     "That sounds like fun. She started throwing my sliced carrots and tomatoes into the salad bowl. What's your favorite color?"

     "I don't know, maybe wed."

     "I love that color too, but your dad hates it."

     She giggled, "Why?"

     "I think it's just because his father didn't like it." She frowned and then shrugged.   

     One of the easiest mistakes as a parent, I learned it's challenging to slow down and remember to apologize when an error is made. We get caught up in life and forget to write ourselves a note, so we don't forget. Sometimes Alan would tease me because now I write reminders on my hand, or have a few pieces of paper hanging around. I tell him it's because I must deal with that issue that day. ( I know I need to learn how to take notes on my phone.)

     Here are a few ideas about apologizing, just in case you need a refresher. I'm gleaning some of the ideas from this fabulous website which also offers free material and a parenting workshop for a charge written by Amy McCready, a  nationally recognized parenting expert who has written many books. https://www.positiveparentingsolutions.com/parenting/apologizing-to-your-child

Some suggestions when an apology is in order:  (Works well with spouses/friends too.)

1. Own your feelings and take responsibility for them. Sometimes it's okay to be upset or frustrated.        However, it's how we respond to those feelings that aren't okay. It's not alright to yell, punch a wall, slam a door, spank or punch a wall. Your kids are watching and listening: remember, they learn by watching you, plus your reactions could be frightening to them, so it will cause trauma.

2. Connect the way you feel to your action or use appropriate words. In your apology, explain why you felt that way and why it was wrong to react the way you did. In other words, what caused you to react that way? Please do not blame your child for hurting your foot because you tripped over his or her toy they left in the middle of the floor. (Mixing an apology and blame together….not good. This way, your children will learn that they can't act or say inappropriate things either.)

3. Acknowledge that you hurt or scared your child. If the adult's action was based on something the child did or didn't do, explain that your love for him/her is not based on being perfect.

4. Share how you plan to avoid this situation in the future. "I will give you one warning. then if you        don't stop what you are doing, I will ask you to sit in your room for 5 or 10 minutes." This is a perfect opportunity to teach your child how to learn from his or her mistakes to improve themselves. Be specific in what you aim to do to avoid blaming others or yelling. 

5. Always….always… ask for forgiveness.

     Good luck, and remember, all of us are a work in progress, so don't get upset with yourself when you make a mistake.