There are forces in this universe I don't understand. Things happen at a certain time for a certain reason and I don't understand why. I am getting the feeling it is time to tell this story. I'm not sure who needs to read it or why. All I know is that I need to tell it.
These events are real, but the names, dates, and locations have been changed for the privacy of those involved. It's long and involved so get a glass of tea and set a spell....
I'm an obituary collector. I read the obits in a voyeuristic fashion, looking for the interesting tidbits of stranger's lives. I clip and save the obits that are uniquely written with unabashed raw truth about the deceased. I love those. No flowerdy pomposity, just an unvarnished assessment of the person or their life. I hate reading obits that state the deceased was a fine upstanding member of society when in fact the guy was a raging drunk who beat his wife and kids. I'm all for truth in obituaries.
Scanning the paper one morning I find Josh's obit. The photo caught my eye first. He was a young guy, too young to be on the obit page, a good looking kid.
JOSHUA RANDALL BURKS, age 20, died in an automobile accident Sept 20, 2000.
Those who have known Joshua will remember him as a blithe spirit. He marched to the tempo of his own drum. He high-fived his way through life. He lived more life in his 20 years than most people experience in lengthy life spans. Josh had a magnetic personality, a sense of joy that made him a pied piper of all ages. He had a juicy sense of humor that served him well throughout his life. He was fascinated with current events and stayed abreast of the latest political news. He was not easily persuaded. He had a keen insight that enabled him to see through phoniness and hypocrisy. He was fascinated with people and their thoughts and found friends in all walks of life. Josh was born with a liberated mind and was never overcome by the many adversities he encountered. He drank of life’s fullness and took all it could give. Josh was preceded in death by...
"He marched to the tempo of his own drum..." I immediately felt a connection to this kid. I know the pain of marching out of step with the rest of the world. It isn't an easy thing to do. The different drummer reference is from the conclusion to Walden by Henry David Thoreau, 1854 - perhaps two of the most exquisite lines of prose ever written:
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away."
I tore out the page with Josh's obit and stuck in it my "Great Obits" file for future reference. A few days later, I got it out and started an essay titled, "Truth in Obits." I worked on it a while, copying verbatim Josh's obit, and adding my thoughts, but the piece wasn't coming together the way I wanted. I was struggling with what I wanted to say, so I filed it away again to work on later. Sometimes letting a topic rest a few days and approaching it later with fresh eyes helps to get the words to congeal.
Almost a month goes by without any work on the essay. I'm still trying to formulate the outline, but I'm still not having any inspiration. Then one day, a nagging thought forms in the back of my brain...write on the essay, write on the essay. I wasn't ready to write anything. I still didn't know where I wanted to go with the piece. Brain is still nagging...write on the obits piece, write on the obits piece. All through the evening that nagging voice won't go away. Write, write, write...and Josh's picture kept popping in my head.
OK fine! I'll write. Don't know what I'm gonna write but I'll put my damn fingers on the keyboard. So I pulled up the essay on the computer and read it again. I went to the point where my thought process had been interrupted previously. I scrolled all the garbage off the page and stared at the blank screen. Still nothing was coming.
I dug out Josh's obit that was published in the newspaper with his picture. I propped it up next to my computer and stared into Josh's eyes. I said, "OK Josh, what am I supposed to be writing here? Help me out. What is it that you want to say?"
I cleared my mind and just stared at Josh's eyes. His picture became kind of fuzzy but his eyes remained clear. Words started scrolling across my mind like the sign in Times Square. Just phrases really, not whole sentences. I just typed what my mind saw without thinking about what I was typing. I continued to stare at Josh's eyes and not at the computer screen. After typing for a while, there was almost an audible click like a telephone had been hung up and there were no more words.
This popped me out of my reverie and the rest of the room came back into focus. For the first time I looked at my computer screen and this is what was there:
"Marg wants me to say that I have come to the end of my life but that's not true. I am living on in the place of non-existence. We go through life wondering what we need to hear. What we need is the reason to live. Help me to send this message to those that I love. Help me to say what I can't say. I am never going to get the chance to say the things I need to say to those that I love. Just as I have gotten over on to them that....help me to say things that I need to say. There is something I need to send to three people. What is the meaning of the words....can't make up my mind. Who is my savior in that the day of my existence is now at hand. Probably need to say what I mean to you. Help me to say these things to mother and David. Help me say goodbye."
"Tell them I am happy here. Tell them I am safe and happy. Tell them I will see them someday soon. See that they don't worry about me. Ask them to send their love to me on the other side. Ask them to see that I am happy. Work with them to say what I want to say. Tell them I am happy. Tell them I am safe. I am warm, unharmed. I am whole now. Be kind to each other. Peace be with you. Goodbye."
When I read it I cried and wailed and boo-hooed and sobbed. No! No! No! This is not happening to me! This kid is not sending me messages from the other side! This CANNOT be happening!
I didn't know what to do. I was scared out of my mind. I had not written this, it was not from my brain. It is not at all my style of writing nor the words I would have used. Why was Josh talking to me?
I composed myself and read it again. I wondered who David was. I reread the entire obit with the list of family names and didn't find a David there.
I stared at the message and asked "Who is David?"
I got the answer "Rogers, David Rogers."
I went to the AT&T website and searched for a David Rogers in Arkansas. There were about 25 or so. I read through them all looking for one that stood out from the rest. When I got to the end I sighed with despair because I would never be able to figure out which one it was, or if it was one that was listed. I started going backwards through the list and said "There's too many Josh, there's too many. I need a flashing RED sign to show me which one." The next one I clicked on lived on REDwood Drive.
"Oh, thank you Josh."
The reason I was interested in finding "David" was because earlier when I was having the nagging thought of writing on the essay some more, I was thinking about Josh and visualizing his picture in my mind. Between thoughts of Josh I kept getting the thought "Tell David that ham is dangerous." This was kinda scary to me. It sounded like a warning. It might be an inside joke about pork and cholesterol. I don't know. That's just what came into my mind.
This had never happened to me before. It made me sick and worried and I didn't know what to do. I felt I had been given an important message to deliver, but this was all so crazy. How could I ever deliver the message, even if I could, should I? How would I ever explain?
I stayed up all night balling and squalling. At daylight I called my sister and told her what had happened. Turns out she was good friends with Josh's mother Linda, a lady I didn't know. My sister said I should call Linda, right then. She gave me Linda's phone number and I dialed the phone.
By this time I was an emotional wreck. I sobbed and blubbered my way through the phone call to Josh's poor mother. She had just lost her young son in a car wreck and now some crazy woman she doesn't know is calling her with a wild tale. It's a miracle she didn't slam down the phone. She was surprisingly patient and kind. After I finished my long tale she gave me her email address so that I could send her the message to read.
After I hung up the phone, I heaved a big sigh, looked towards the ceiling and said, "Message delivered Josh."
Three days lates, Josh's mother Linda sent me the following response (posted here with her permission):
Dear Speck,
Thank you for contacting me and letting me know about Josh. I must admit at first I struggled with the message. The struggle was not about whether the message was from Josh. That I believe with no doubt! I kept worrying about the part that I didn’t understand. Finally, I heard the message, “Focus on what you know”. I know that Josh was saying, “Mom, I’m okay. I am safe, happy, warm and unharmed. I am whole. Be kind to each other. Send me love.” Yes, that message is so much Joshua.
Joshua was facing yet another DWI charge and was concerned about what he was to face with the judicial system. He came to me not long before he died and said he had thought about just leaving the state. I said, “Well, that is pretty selfish.” He looked surprised. I said, “Josh, do you know what that would do to me not knowing if you were okay or not.” He said, “Oh, mom, I wouldn’t do that. I would let you know I was okay.” True to his word, he did!
Josh and I have always had a bond that is beyond description. Someone wrote to me and described him as my heartbeat. He always was and will be. We had conversations about many things. One of recent before he died was about my conversation with a friend, Greg whom I went to high school with. Greg is divorced from my life long best friend. I am the Godmother of his children. I had not seen Greg to visit in years but we were at the hospital together about six months ago because his daughter was having surgery. We had time to sit and visit and he told me about his channeling and conversations with the dead. He told me that he and the woman he lives with help souls who are stuck go over into the next existence. I came home and told Josh. We sort of laughed and talked. I said, “far be it from me to not believe what Greg was saying.” Josh agreed.
I am certain that Josh knew not to reach me through Greg because there would have been doubts in my mind. I would have been afraid. Instead he came through you, Nana’s sister. I have long trusted and looked to Nana as a spiritual guide not because of her doctrine, but because of something much deeper, her “spiritual connection”. The first message was delivered with Nana’s own hands to me thus removing any caution I would have had to who you were otherwise.
That led the way for me to be completely open and trusting to your phone call. You began with, “I didn’t know whether to contact you or not but Nana said to call you”. Josh knew exactly how to get the message straight to me so I would know I didn’t need to sort the validity or safety of it.
I have been praying to know for certain that Josh was okay. All I ever wanted for him in this life and the one beyond was for him to be happy, safe, whole and at peace. What a powerful gift of love to know that he is.
What a strange position for you to be in and what a gift! You have been the messenger of love. I pray the prayer of St. Francis almost every day that I might be a channel of Thy peace. You have been. Thanks be to God!
I don’t know what the rest of the message means but I figure that when the time is right, if I am supposed to know or do something with it I will. I will stay in prayer about it and about being a channel of peace. What I need to know will be revealed to me when I need to know it, I am certain.
I hope that we can get together some day soon and visit. My dad lived [in My Town] for several years. In fact when Josh was three months old we can home from Germany to be with my Dad who had cancer. We lived there in the apartments on Main with him for about 3 months. Josh loved my dad and his cremated remains were buried in my daddy’s cemetery plot right above his heart. It felt so right to have him tucked in with daddy. I felt Daddy and Josh were together and it felt good knowing Josh was with my daddy whom I loved dearly. Josh was even named after my dad. Maybe the connection of [the town] means something too. Who knows!
Words cannot expression my appreciation for your courage and your connection. Please stay in touch with me and know that I will be anxious to hear anything you get in the future.
With much appreciation and gratitude,
Linda
P.S. I am attaching a copy of Josh’s Eulogy. I thought you might enjoy reading just what a delight he was, and I suspect your kindred spirit.
Yes, I believe Josh and I are indeed kindred spirits. Even though we had not met in life, we are somehow connected.
1 comment:
Speck, thank you so much for sharing that story. I for one believe you!
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