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To be as real as real can be.
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, January 23, 2016 10:18 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Maybe the secret of happiness. Is to believe what one wants to believe. No matter how preposterous. Yes, to enter the world of fantasy. And truly believe. In convincing and undeniable fashion, that it’s reality. Such as belief in an afterlife. Many terrorists. Are alleged to believe that after blowing themselves into smithereens, they are bound for a blissful paradise. Meanwhile, here I am. A man who shuns organized religion. But still, I cultivate a belief in an  eternal spiritual  life. Into a dimension that will allow me to circumnavigate the cosmos. To other planets. To other solar systems. To other galaxies. Absolutely no limits. Sure, it sounds preposterous and other-worldly. But I’m willing to set aside my doubts. And buy into the assumption.  Because that’s what I want out of life. The making of anything that I can imagine. Into reality. I want everlasting life. To be real as real can be. --Jim
sharon11daugherty
Posted: Sunday, January 24, 2016 7:15 PM
Joined: 8/6/2015
Posts: 1736


I want to leave this life... and join in the dimension that has been hidden from us. Having experienced a visit from a celestial being, during the death of my daughter, I am in awe of what is to be after this time on earth.
Jim Broede
Posted: Tuesday, January 26, 2016 6:35 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


A son is a son is a son. I’ve never differentiated. Between a step son and a biological son.  Because my son Jack is my spiritual son. We have a connection. In spirit. Jack. Jack. Jack. What can I say? Jack is dying. He’s in the fourth stage of lung cancer. I’m looking for meaningful words. A spiritual message. To send to him. I believe. Not in organized religion. But in a wonderful spiritual dimension. Only because that’s what I want to believe. As a free-thinker. Anything I can imagine. Is possible. And if Jack doesn’t have the  imagination. I’ll imagine for him. Jack being free of the shackles. Of physical being. Free to move about. To soar. To glide. To catapult.   From the physical world. To the spiritual realm.  Jack is about to make the same journey. As did his dear mother Jeanne. And yes, Jack’s mother still lives. Out there. In the great spiritual beyond. Where we all go. Eventually. Yes, life is eternal. Forever. Believe it, my dear spiritual son. Paradise exists. Outside of time.  Yes, Jack. The best of times are yet to come. You haven’t been fully born yet. You will finally be truly and blissfully alive.  Hallelujah! --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, January 27, 2016 3:22 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Dear Jack. Have you ever dreamed the best dream of all? Your spirit. Leaving your physical being.  Drifting. Drifting. Drifting away. On a smooth sea of tranquility. Or better yet. Into the vast regions of an infinite cosmos. That’s a glimpse, dear Jack. Of being truly free. And truly alive. Being at one. With the life force.  That’s what you are coming to. A place where love permeates every living spirit. Don’t know if you’ll ever be allowed to return to the physical realm again. Does it really matter?  --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, January 27, 2016 5:11 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I let Jack be Jack. Don’t know if that was wise. Can’t say, for sure. Here Jack is. Dying. In his 50s. Lung cancer. Jack was a smoker. A drinker, too. He did pretty much as he pleased. In the process. He abused himself. And maybe others, too.  Jack became my one and only son. When he was 8. When I married Jeanne. And there I was. With a ready-made family. Jack and 12-year-old daughter Kiki. Turns out. That everything evolved reasonably well. For Kiki.  Far more ups than downs. Too many downers in Jack’s life. Maybe I should have intervened. More than I did. Maybe I was too much an observer. Rather than a participant. That’s the way I am. Maybe I’m protecting myself. By not getting too emotionally involved. I allow people to be themselves. Because I don’t have the power to change them. They have to take charge of their own lives. I can’t save anyone. But myself. Of course, I think Jack could have done better with his life. Who am I to say that Jack wasn’t happy? He had three relationships. That produced three children. Two sons and a daughter. One son died. In his 20s. An accident. He drowned. His other two children. Now adults. Have distanced themselves from Jack. Maybe I’m guilty, too. Of distancing.  Protecting myself. From anguish. That comes with too much emotional involvement in the lives of others. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Thursday, January 28, 2016 8:36 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Often. I do the practical thing. Which is. What’s best for me. First and foremost. Don’t know if that’s selfish. I’d like to think not. Instead, it’s a way to put me in a position to take good care of others. Including my troubled friends. Strangers, too. As a pragmatist.  I’ve learned to put myself first. So that I can be called upon. For help. I accept the fact. That some friends are too beleaguered to ever help me.  Yes, I’d rather be the helper. That comes dashing to the rescue. Than the ones in dire need of help. --Jim
sharon11daugherty
Posted: Thursday, January 28, 2016 12:58 PM
Joined: 8/6/2015
Posts: 1736


I hope you are able to write to Jack and be in his life at that this time.  Our children never stop needing our approval as parents. Boys, especially want to hear what a good job they have done and how proud we are of them. My boys lives have been up and down but I know their heart. Their intentions were so often good, but gone about in the worst ways. Alcohol has been present with some and has become all too familiar. /But I remember that trap and so often can stand afar and let them know that I, too, have dealt with that battle and continue to hold them up. 5 of them are not of my blood. But they are as much a part of me as any that were. My life poured into them, what a great time it was. Broken bones, lost items, broken hearts. Remind Jack of some of those good times and that those are foremost in your memories. Joy brought to his sweet mother times.

As my best friend is dying of cancer, her skin now beginning to break down from the pressure of just her elbow on the bed. What a time to be present. Others back away. Afraid of the sadness that might accompany their visit as they gaze on her once beautiful body, now she is hardly recognizable and unable to even move her arm.

I stood and cried with her  hubby yesterday. He daily is now seeing that healing is not coming. Ultimate healing yes, earthly health no.  Denial is a great tool in care giving. It allows you to dream and focus on the positive. Our eyes do not see what is in front of us, although  others can see. My sweet Rebecca was grey for a month, before someone pointed it out to me. I could not accept that her body was changing as the disease progressed. It taught me that we each have been given coping tools that enable us to accomplish what is needed. 

With LO right now, life is good. In the quietness of everyday, I am reading and learning and enjoying the peace that I believed would be in our 'golden years'. I am just doing it alone, and yet he is beside me.   


Jim Broede
Posted: Friday, January 29, 2016 10:39 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I lament. I mourn. I grieve. Over my dying son. I will go. And see him. To tell him. He’s loved. But I wonder. If that’s enough. I hate death. Because I momentarily fret. And protest. That I’m being robbed of a loved one.  But upon reflection. I know better.  I am not losing Jack. He’ll still be very much alive. Inside me. In spirit. And I have an abiding faith, that Jack will live and thrive. In the spiritual realm. Where he will be united with his dear mother. Anyway, it’s more evidence. That I’m a romantic idealist. And a spiritual free-thinker. I believe what I want to believe. Jack really isn’t dying. He’s ascending. To a better life. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, January 30, 2016 11:33 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Death. It used to be the real downer. In my life. I didn’t like dealing with death. With the loss of friends and loved ones and my pet cats.  And I’d just as soon not have to deal with my own inevitable demise. I didn’t even like to use the term ‘death.’ That is, until I learned to redefine death. As not really meaning end of life. Or entry into absolute nothingness. So to feel better about the whole thing, I began to imagine. Living forever. In a non-physical form. As spirit. It made sense. To assume that anything I could imagine. Could become real. True as true can be. A thousand years ago, it would have been very difficult. To imagine landing on the moon. Or sending space ships beyond our solar system. But it’s all happening. And more. Therefore, why can’t there be other dimensions?  A spiritual realm. To be discovered. Upon one’s physical death. That means my dear sweet Jeanne still lives.  In the great beyond. Soon to be joined. By our dear son Jack. Reason for celebration. No lamenting. No mourning. No grieving. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Saturday, January 30, 2016 10:43 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


My son Jack. Has a reason. A desire. To live for at least one more week. So that he can watch the Super Bowl. On TV. For one last time. Jack has been sent home. From the  hospital. To die. It’s just a matter of time.  Jack has lung cancer. And it’s spread to other parts of his weakened and frail body. He can barely speak. He whispers. He’s off medications. Except for pain. I’m impressed. By the way Jack is dying. He’s still focused. On life. The stuff he enjoys. Football. The Super Bowl. To Jack. Nothing is trivial. Everything is meaningful. During his waning days in the physical world. Jack seems happy and contented. I tell him he ain’t really dying.  He’s about to transition. To the spiritual realm. Believe it, believe it, dear Jack. It’ll even be better and more exciting than the Super Bowl. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, January 31, 2016 4:46 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I woke up this morning. At 4:15. Wondering. Wondering. What I could have done. To alter Jack’s life. Through some sort of intervention. To have made him a happier being. A better-adjusted son. Should I feel guilty? For allowing Jack to be Jack. Of course, I won’t allow myself. In the end.  To be held responsible. Jack made his choices. Free and clear. And I made my choices. Free and clear. To allow Jack to go down destructive courses. This makes me wonder about friend Julie. Maybe this is why I advocate intervention. For Julie. To save Julie. From herself. People around Julie. Friends and acquaintances. Allow Julie to self-destruct. To languish. As an alcoholic.  In a state of depression. And we watch and watch and watch. Endlessly. And when Julie ends up dying  A tragic death some day. We’ll all walk off. Scott free. And get on with our lives. Without any qualms of conscience. Because we all did everything we humanly could.  When it’s not true. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, February 1, 2016 11:56 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for Jack to die. So that he can become truly alive. Odd, isn't it? To think of death. As the springboard to real life. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Wednesday, February 3, 2016 8:55 PM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


I'm boarding a plane. Early in the morning. Bound for Kennewick, Washington. To see Jack. One last time. Before he dies. No reason to be sad. No tears for Jack. I'm happy. For him.  --Jim

sharon11daugherty
Posted: Tuesday, February 9, 2016 9:00 PM
Joined: 8/6/2015
Posts: 1736


What a Blessing you will be for Jack. I am so glad you are doing this trip to Washington. I will be praying for you both to have a tender time.  How wonderful that you were able to be there for him.  Just knowing someone is there, is so essential in life .And you are there, and will be. One cannot ask for more than you have been. Having not experienced a Father in my life, I think your Jack is so fortunate. Jeanne did a good thing for him.  You have blessed her with your commitment to him.   Blessings, sharon
Jim Broede
Posted: Monday, April 11, 2016 3:44 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Jack didn't have a choice. It was his time. To die. Friend Julie, on the other hand, has a choice. She still has an option. To choose life. Over almost certain death. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Tuesday, November 8, 2016 12:38 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Good news. Julie now seems to be a fully recovering alcoholic.  She's alive and  vibrant once again. In love. With life. --Jim
Jim Broede
Posted: Sunday, November 20, 2016 11:03 AM
Joined: 12/22/2011
Posts: 5462


Isn't it nice? How life always seems to get better. Sooner or later.  Patience. Waiting. Maybe the ultimate transformation. Is from physical to spiritual being. If I were the creator. That would be my design. --Jim
sharon11daugherty
Posted: Sunday, November 20, 2016 11:24 PM
Joined: 8/6/2015
Posts: 1736


How wonderful about Julie.  I am so pleased for her and you, as her dear friend.