Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.
Let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be.
With God, our creator, children all are we.
Let us walk with each other in perfect harmony.

Let peace begin with me, let this be the moment now.
With every step I take, let this be my solemn vow.
To take each moment and live each moment in peace eternally.
Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Our orange and black spayed cat, Pumpkin, never came home yesterday.

She went outside when my hubby headed off to work in the morning before the sun came up…and I haven’t seen her since.

And of course I fear the worst…this morning before dawn I went outside to call her (as I have called her many times over the past day)…and I heard coyotes. One seemed pretty close!

Was the coyote nearby when she went roaming yesterday?

It doesn’t help that Pumpkin got her collar (with its ID tag) off some time ago and hasn’t worn it since. But she does have an ID tattooed in her ear, so if someone finds her and takes her to the SPCA… (But Pumpkin shies away from people…)

This year a fellow told me his cat was missing for a week before it made it home (scrawny, but alive)!

We won’t give up hope yet.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Have you heard of the biocasket? –The environmentally friendly funeral casket that biodegrades over time to become a part of the soil surrounding it.

It’s a product that does not use glues, metals, toxic-based inks, photographic materials, lacquers, varnishes…but uses woven natural materials (wicker, bamboo, willow, banana leaf, hemp) untreated jute, recycled paper and natural resins.

And it can (depending on the style and intricacy you choose) be up to 75% cheaper than a traditional casket.

How about going a step further…and skipping the use of embalming fluid (that typically uses formaldehyde mixed in water…probably to prevent the transmission of bacteria or illness and to preserve the body for visitations) or using non-toxic biodegradable fluid instead.

“Green” caskets, apparently common in the UK since 1993, are only now starting to catch on in Canada and the USA.

And there’s a manufacturer in Australia that makes caskets from 100% recycled biodegradable cardboard (and can carry up to 120kg).

You can also get environmentally friendly caskets (having a wool mattress) in New Zealand.

And what about having a “green” burial?

Hmmmm…The idea of knowing that your final resting place is helping to sustain a wooded area or a wildflower meadow, or creating a natural habitat…an ecosystem. –So really, the whole area would be your memorial!

I like it!

Strategically place a few benches for reflection, meditation and solace for visitors and loved ones…or let them explore the entire area to feel your presence and energy.

Conservation is the idea. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

I always thought I’d have my body cremated when the time came, but I hear cremation releases pollutants (heavy metals, hydrogen chloride, dioxins and furans) into the air (but just how much toxicity, is debatable).

Still, I like the idea of perhaps having my cremated ashes strewn in a gardened area within a protected forested ecosystem, or kept within an eco-friendly (biodegradable) urn made from natural materials (including silk, leather and handmade paper) that’s buried in aerobic, organically active soil with compost.

I say, “Heal the planet with a living memorial while your loved ones heal their hearts.”

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
They said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup
On 109 that night.

When broken bodies lay about
And blood was everywhere,
The sirens screamed out eulogies,
For death was in the air.

A mother, trapped inside her car,
Was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air:
Oh, God, please spare my boys!

She fought to loose her pinned hands;
She struggled to get free,
But mangled metal held her fast
In grim captivity.

Her frightened eyes then focused
On where the back seat once had been,
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children’s seats crushed in.

Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
She did not hear them cry,
And then she prayed they’d been thrown free,
Oh, God, don’t let them die!

Then firemen came and cut her loose,
But when they searched the back,
They found therein no little boys,
But the seat belts were intact.

They thought the woman had gone mad
And was traveling alone,
But when they turned to question her,
They discovered she was gone.

Policemen saw her running wild
And screaming above the noise
In beseeching supplication,
Please help me find my boys!

They’re four years old and wear blue shirts;
Their jeans are blue to match.
One cop spoke up, They’re in my car,
And they don’t have a scratch.

They said their daddy put them there
And gave them each a cone,
Then told them both to wait for Mom
To come and take them home.

I’ve searched the area high and low,
But I can’t find their dad..
He must have fled the scene,
I guess, and that is very bad.

The mother hugged the twins and said,
While wiping at a tear,
He could not flee the scene, you see,
For he’s been dead a year.

The cop just looked confused and asked,
Now, how can that be true?
The boys said, Mommy, Daddy came
And left a kiss for you.

He told us not to worry
And that you would be all right,
And then he put us in this car with
The pretty, flashing light.

We wanted him to stay with us,
Because we miss him so,
But Mommy, he just hugged us tight
And said he had to go.

He said someday we’d understand
And told us not to fuss,
And he said to tell you, Mommy,
He’s watching over us.

The mother knew without a doubt
That what they spoke was true,
For she recalled their dad’s last words,
I will watch over you.

The firemen’s notes could not explain
The twisted, mangled car,
And how the three of them escaped
Without a single scar.

But on the cop’s report was scribed,
in print so very fine,
“An angel walked the beat tonight, on Highway 109.”
~By Ruth Gillis

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we’re kids? If you’re less than 10 years old, you’re so excited about ageing that you think in fractions.

‘How old are you?’ ‘I’m four and a half!’ You’re never thirty-six and a half. You’re four and a half, going on five! That’s the key.

You get into your teens, now they can’t hold you back. You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead. 

‘How old are you?’ ‘I’m gonna be 16!’ You could be 13, but hey, you’re gonna be 16! And then the greatest day of your life… You become 21. Even the words sound like a ceremony. YOU BECOME 21. YESSSS!!!

But then you turn 30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk! He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There’s no fun now, you’re just a sour-dumpling. What’s wrong? What’s changed?

You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, and then you’re PUSHING 40. Whoa! Put on the brakes, it’s all slipping away. Before you know it, you REACH 50 and your dreams are gone.

But wait!!! You MAKE it to 60. You didn’t think you would!

So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60.

You’ve built up so much speed that you HIT 70! After that it’s a day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday!

You get into your 80’s and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch; you TURN 4:30; you REACH bedtime. And it doesn’t end there. Into the 90s, you start going backwards; ‘I Was JUST 92.’

Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again. ‘I’m 100 and a half!’

May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!!

HOW TO STAY YOUNG

1.  Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them.  That is why you pay ‘them’.

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning.  Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. ‘An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.’  And the devil’s name is Alzheimer’s.

4.  Enjoy the simple things. 

5.  Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen.  Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it’s family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9.  Don’t take guilt trips.  Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.

10.  Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Did you know your brain emits electromagnetic energy?

And did you also know that prayer creates an energy field that carries a frequency of vibration that has been shown to have healing qualities.

So if you can learn to use and focus the power of your thoughts, feelings and beliefs, you’ll have a powerful tool at your disposal to redirect your energy for doing good in the world.

And when you use love to direct your energy through your thoughts towards a specific goal, you will have harnessed the most powerful energy there is in the universe…and sometimes that goal will come to fruition.

Interesting thought for the day.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

After Cindy died I had wondered if she left unfinished business behind because her death had been sudden (at least to family members, but perhaps not to Cindy if she had committed suicide with assistance) and mysterious.

Nine months after her death (before the inquest, and before I went to Africa) I had an experience with the swag lamp I inherited from Cindy—it flickered as I asked questions while listening to the music of Zamfir (Cindy’s favorite music) and I had wondered if the lamp was a conduit for Cindy’s spirit (a concept I found hard to accept…maybe it was just a short in the electrical wiring). But, in an attempt to understand what was happening, I wrote about the experience in my journal (unaware it would eventually be incorporated into my book):

“If the dead entity of Cindy chose to relive the pain etc. for her sake of putting the past to rest, then that’s fine. Because there is this barrier of life/death between Cindy and me, we cannot influence each other’s present experiences. It is hard to believe she could be aware of my life and me. I know Cindy would want me to be happy. In things I do, she will be in my thoughts. When I go to Africa she will be in my heart. Maybe that is the only ‘Cindy’ there is left.”

I had wondered if some ghosts are unaware that they are dead, and wondered if a ghost can have unfinished business because they were murdered or experienced a traumatic event or an accident or committed suicide, and have messages they wish to convey to family members before they move on (messages concerning the circumstances surrounding their deaths). Could a spirit refuse to pass on because of these events? –Until they felt their message had been understood?

Was that swag lamp flickering the way it was because Cindy was lingering because of emotions that tied her to the earth? –Because she didn’t want to move on? –Or couldn’t?

What do you think?

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Halloween is almost upon us and I’m hearing a lot of chatter about ghosts…more specifically, about ghosts making connections with loved ones.

If the ghost of a dearly departed could connect to you, how do you think they would do it? –By affecting one or more of your senses (vision, smell, touch, hearing) I’ve been told.

And I’ve also been informed that ghosts are ectoplasmic beings—obviously not solid…but rather appearing hazy, or like circular rings of energy, or balls of light, or ribbons…and in various colors. For instance, you could look in a mirror and see an ectoplasmic shape though the ghost is not visible in the room. And electric lights or appliances may flicker on and off in the room, or an object linked to the ghost (like a picture) may move. And with your peripheral vision you may see a spirit out of the side of your field of vision.

(Apparently animals/pets are more sensitive to the presence of spirits.)

Then there are the smells or fragrances, especially floral ones…scents associated with the spirit. For instance, if the spirit smoked cigars while in a physical body, you might smell a cigar scent in the room…or the aroma of freshly perked coffee when none has been made…or the smell of a certain kind of chewing gum the person enjoyed…

And then there are spirit touches…a kiss, a tickling sensation, a chill on the back of your neck or your head, hair standing up on your body, pressure on the top of your head, a cold breeze passing through the room…

And what about hearing noises? –Tapping, knocking, bumping, thumping, perhaps an electric appliance (linked to the deceased) turns on. And then there are the phone calls from the deceased, usually to a family member, on special days (Mother’s Day, birthdays, holidays) –the phone rings as normal but you get static and although you hear the voice of your beloved, the voice gets fainter as the call progresses until it fades away…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Should you go first and I remain to walk the road alone,
I’ll live in memories garden dear, with happy days we’ve known.
In spring I’ll wait for roses red, when faded, the lilacs blue.
In early fall when brown leaves fall, I’ll catch a glimpse of you.
Should you go first and I remain, for battle to be fought.
Each thing you’ve touched along the way will be a hallowed spot.
I’ll hear your voice, I’ll see your smile, though blindly I may grope.
The memory of your helping hand will buoy me on with hope.
Should you go first and I remain to finish with the scroll,
No length’ning shadows shall creep in to make this life seem droll.
We’ve known so much happiness, we’ve had our cup of joy,
And memory is one gift of God that death cannot destroy.
Should you go first and I remain, one thing I’ll have you do:
Walk slowly down that long long path, for soon I’ll follow you.
I want to know each step you take, so I may take the same.
For someday down that lonely road you’ll hear me call your name.
~Albert Kennedy “Rosey” Roswell

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

Over the past week she could have sworn she’d been hearing noises—footsteps, whisperings, thumps, tapping, slamming doors, and windows opening and closing. And along with those sounds there were smells…sometimes the smell of gardenias or aftershave, sometimes of burned wood.

And now, when the clock suddenly stopped for no apparent reason (she checked and the battery was fine) and she thought the curtain had moved ever so minutely and could have sworn her husband had been standing there…well she became apprehensive because she could feel a cold prickling on her skin as if a cold breeze had invaded the room. Not only did it give her chills, but also it came with the feeling of being touched or watched, like a strong presence was hovering nearby just out of her vision perhaps trying to communicate with her.

It made her anxiety level skyrocket because she didn’t know what to make of it.

Yes, her dear husband, the love of her life, had passed away…and she missed him immensely!

Was she experiencing the presence of his ghost?

Could such a thing happen?

Or could she explain it all away?

After all, she knew ghosts were often associated with a chilling sensation. But wasn’t a natural animal response to fear the raising of hairs, like a cold prickling…and couldn’t that be mistaken for chill? (Not that she would have feared her husband, but she feared the unknowing—was someone else watching her?)

And, she knew her peripheral vision was very sensitive to motion and didn’t contain much color or focused shapes. So could any random motion outside of her focused view create a strong illusion of a figure?

Was her grief so strong, and was her desire to see him just one more time so overpowering…that she was creating these things around her?

She knew some British scientists claimed that sound waves with frequencies lower than 20 hertz, called infrasound, are formally inaudible but can cause humans to feel a “presence” in the room, or unexplained feelings of anxiety or dread.

Was she exaggerating her interpretation of her own perceptions?

Or was her husband with her now, trying to tell her something? –Trying to reassure her perhaps that he was OK? –Wanting to tell her that he loved her too? –And that he missed her?

With a smile she opened the memory album they had created together and thumbed through its pages, talking all the while to her dead husband (in case he was there with her)…telling him how much she loved him and missed him, how much fun they’d had when they went to Paris…

She could have sworn she felt his warm hand brush her cheek.

And then the tears came…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James