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Dear Mr. Anderson:
I don't know how to thank you for bringing
my entire family peace and hope after our session in November, 2010.
It took me this many months just to understand the impact of the
session and how much it meant to each of us in our family, and how
differently we all reacted to it.
In September, 2009
my mother was diagnosed with Lymphoma, and her prognosis was dim.
She took it badly and became embittered, which is understandable, but
then she became a little destructive. One night I saw her at the
computer very late at night, and the next morning my curiosity got the
best of me and I went to find out what she was looking for online.
In the files were sites about suicide and how to pass on painlessly.
I was shocked to my foundation--here she was, terminally ill, and
looking to shorten even what little time she had. I felt
like she was unraveling, and I also felt guilty because, who am I to
tell my own mother she must endure pain and suffering until God
decides it is time to leave the earth?
This was such a touchy subject because we had gone through it before.
5 years prior to Mom's diagnosis, my father passed away from brain
cancer. It was terrible, but my mom
was a pillar of strength for my dad, right up until the end. So
it was heartbreaking to begin to understand that she was giving up on
herself.
My brother, who had
followed your work for some time, had suprised the family with a
session with you. At first I thought it was a terrible mistake,
and would only encourage my mom to consider ending her life because
she missed my dad. So I went to the appointment with a lot of
fear over what would be said, and how mom would react.
For the rest of my life, I will never forget meeting you and the
unusual way you addressed us.
As soon as your assistant opened the door for us, there you stood with
your hands on both hips, and without even a hello, said directly to
mom, "Sit down, there's a gentleman here with a lot to say to you."
From that second on, I knew the session was going to be a help and not
a hurt to her life.
It was my dad that spoke
first, and at a quick glance you looked just like him, when he would
get stern because he had to lecture one of his kids. He'd stand
there with both hands on his hips and say, "I need a word with you."
Something in your stance and the words you said made me know right
away my dad was going to talk some sense into mom. And for the
next hour, he did just that--reminding her that she is still on the
earth for a reason, that she had a lot to accomplish, and not to take
away such a valuable life lesson by throwing away her life out of
fear. I couldnt have said one word any better. Something
in the sound of what you said affected mom very deeply, escpecially
the fact that you told her, "Frank says he will be holding your hand
at the end, and you wont be alone."
That one line didnt mean
much to me until mom's health went downhill and she went to hospice.
In the last hours of her life, she looked puzzled, smiled and then
held out her hand. At first I thought she needed something.
But then I remembered what dad had said to her about holding her hand,
and I asked her, "Is daddy here?" And she smiled. An hour
later she passed away surrounded by her children, AND her husband.
Thank you so much for being a genuine link to the other side.
You can't imagine how wonderful it was to know for sure that dad
helped mom to make the transition, and that they are both at
peace. Mom found the courage to continue her battle and live on
until God decided she was finished. I think we are all glad for
that, expecially mom. In time, we'd like to come back to see
you, and hear from both our parents. It seems less important
now, thanks to you, because I know they are together and there is
nothing to worry about. I miss them, but I'm at least happy for
them that they have each other now.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. I dont think
I could say it enough. God bless you.
Your friend Tracy
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