Not so long ago I inherited some things from my parents. Tucked away in what was obviously a special box my mother kept, I found several untitled poems in my now deceased sister’s, Cindy James, handwriting (there is no reference to the author of the poems—had Cindy created them?) Here is one of the poems:
It is sad to walk the road alone
Instead of side by side
But to all there comes a moment
When the ways of life divide.
You gave me years of happiness
Then came sorrow and tears
But you left me beautiful memories
I will treasure throughout the years.
I dedicate the above poem to Kobe…thanks for being a great friend!
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
Back from vacation, my son sprinted into the house to check on his banded Syrian hamster (Kobe) and tell him all about his fabulous adventures.
Suddenly a shrill cry pierced the air and my son, sobbing and holding a piece of paper that had been laying on the hamster’s cage, came running out of his room and buried his face into his father’s chest. The note read:
“Hi —–,
Your pet hamster died on Thursday Aug 14 5pm 2008. [3 days shy of Kobe’s third birthday.]
We’re very sorry because he died. So I hope you don’t freak out.
Sorry.
P.S. We (my mom and I) put the hamster in the freezer in a white and red bag.”
Brody hadn’t read the note…his eyes had been drawn to the word “died” and he instantly realized what that meant.
Kobe, in fact, had died while we were exploring Kennedy Space Centre in Florida.
Several days before leaving for vacation we suspected Kobe was ailing (his waste had been green and loose, and his walking was unsteady from old age). So we had played with Kobe and fed him treats and showered him with kisses…fearful of what might very well happen while we were gone. Sure enough, Kobe had died. I had mentioned Kobe’s illness to the friends who were to care for him (and the other two hamsters) in our absence. And together we had come up with a plan…to freeze Kobe if he should die so we could bury him when we returned.
Earlier this year my son had lived through the death of his cat, Tiger, and the death of his sister’s hamster, Fudge, so he was somewhat prepared for the emotional roller coaster and the plans to come.
As I write this, my son is searching for a burial box and making preparations for a ceremony. And wouldn’t you know it…I accidentally came across a poem written in my deceased sister’s, Cindy James, handwriting. It seems appropriate to dedicate the poem (which I’ll share in my next Blog post) to Kobe…
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
It really happened quite by accident…
Over dinner the conversation turned to a discussion about their father who had died years ago.
All of the participants were now parents themselves.
The conversation went on for hours as each person recited a story…one after the other.
Later, they recalled how much fun that evening of sharing was…how it felt so good to talk about him…how reminiscing made each of them feel a bit better.
What’s your story?
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“If you continue down the road you’re on, you’re going to end up where you’re headed.”
~Lao Tse
His writings teach the philosophy of the Tao, or the Way (Morality) of ancient China (Taoist religion)
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“The most important decision we ever make is whether we believe we live in a friendly universe or a hostile universe.”
~Albert Einstein.
It seems pretty hard to settle Einstein’s question with absolute finality, in an intellectual sense, but I can think of it as how I decide to view the universe depends on me—my attitude has an effect on my perceptions and behavior! When my sister, Cindy James, died mysteriously, I thought I lived in a hostile universe—it seemed the police and others were withholding information from my family and I (I questioned everyone and everything; I was suspicious of intentions, actions…), incorrect facts were being spouted in the media (and I wanted to know who’s fault that was), and I was an emotional wreck (I was closed off, living in a prison of pain)…life had no meaning (or fun) anymore and the walls of my world came tumbling down—I experienced a series of disappointments and dead ends to queries and I wondered if I could ever pull myself out of the doom and gloom of it all. At the time I wondered what lesson I was supposed to learn in all of this! –That to blame any other person for any of it was a waste of time and energy? The short-term solution seemed to be blame, but I couldn’t see the long-term solution…happiness. Happiness was a joke to me.I came to realize (through a LOT of grief work and healing, which helped me become aware of my thoughts and emotions) that no person, situation, or event could control my life or my attitude, or my destiny, unless I allowed him or her or it to!I had to learn to be nice to myself and do nice things for me. I needed to listen to my needs and myself, and have the strength to follow through with my convictions. And as I grew to have a more positive outlook, it seemed there were more positive mirrored responses from others. I needed a steady focus of intention—a belief that all was not despair for the rest of my life…there had to be “good” left out there in the world. Eventually I was able to give back to others, in many ways, because I answered Einstein’s question by looking with my heart—I decided it was a subjective question. It was about perception.Despite everything that had happened to me, was I friendly or not? Was my hand outstretched to a stranger?Yes, in the death of my sister, as excruciating at that was, and is, I’ve learned my life is about more than me and any pain I’ve endured. It’s about gratitude, forgiveness, breathing …. –Always a work in progress. It’s realizing that the holes in the flute make the instrument more beautiful!
What’s your answer to Einstein’s statement?
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
Melissa sits in her one-room cabin and mourns the loss of her only son, Jack, who was killed three and a half years ago.She grieves for him every day.And she’s having trouble accepting the fact that Torrance, the man who killed her son, gets out of jail today…he just finished serving a two-year sentence for manslaughter after fatally stabbing Jack with a pair of scissors. Three hours after the killing, Torrance’s blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. Yes, he killed his best friend…and he doesn’t remember doing it.Torrance was 16 at the time, and Jack was 21.Melissa misses the close relationship she had with her son…it cannot be replaced.She misses him calling her up and taking her out for dinner…looking after her when she was sick…joking with her…having someone to lean on.“I have no sense of life,” she thinks.“Why has everyone forgotten where I am…how I’m feeling?” she muses.She is alone…separated from her husband…and her daughter, Julie, is gone—the memories were too painful for Julie so she left town after her brother was murdered.Jack would have been a father today…his girlfriend was pregnant by the time he lay dying.But Melissa sees hope in the future…with her granddaughter—Melissa will make sure Meagan knows who her father was.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“I am a cancer survivor. “I have been on a vent.“I have been kept alive when I would have died without medical treatment. But it was not done to the extreme. I had a very bad infection that caused a high temperature and very rapid heart rate. Thankfully I recovered, but it could have created a situation where, in trying to stop an immediate medical crisis, I could have been left “alive” but brain damaged. “What would my family have done? I don’t know. And I am thankful I never had to find out!”
~Carol
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 blip from the past:…Susan was driving and it hit me—I was experiencing what others who lose loved ones do. My sister, Cindy James, was dead but people were still going about their lives…some going to work and stopping to pick up coffee and donuts on the way, some getting ready for the rest of the weekend, some cooking, some tucking their kids in bed… Shouldn’t the world stop for a while and acknowledge a death?But we all know it doesn’t! The world carries on. I learned then that tragedies quickly become very personal, shattering the lives of a few forever while others carry on, oblivious. And that’s just the way it is.Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
Poem for Loss
by Josie O’Brien
My darling as I hold you near,
my heart is aching so.
I know that you must go away.
It is something we both know.
Acceptance is the hardest part
of knowing I’ll remain.
For I know that when you’re free at last,
I will cry with heartfelt pain.
Each memory has been traced with love
deep within my heart.
I never dreamed the day would come,
When we would be apart.
For as I hold you in my arms
and whisper our last goodbye,
I’ll cherish every memory
until the day I die.
For when my soul is released and free,
I’ll come to you, my friend.
And the love we share will once again
be eternal; with no end.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“You want to know what I fear?” asks Alice, a widow, as she tips her head to the side as if listening for something. “It’s simple…it’s no more me!”
You could feel the panic pouring from her veins as she explained how the movers had come to take the last of her belongings from the home she had lived in for so long with her recently departed husband…and how she had nearly collapsed in fright with the realization she was moving to a retirement village…and battling cancer…and not winning.
She wasn’t afraid of the pain of impending death and she didn’t believe in an afterlife. So what was it that was terrifying her?
“I know I’ve had a full life…I’ve done what I wanted to do…It’s just…I don’t want to leave this life! I want to see what happens. Will my youngest son decide to have children? What will my granddaughter, Lily, grow up to be? …”
“But you won’t know you’re not here,” was the reply.
“I wish I could be religious and have a belief in an afterlife,” she sighs. “I know that must mute the fear of death for some people.”
It was Greek philosopher Epicurus who said, “If we are mortal and the soul does not survive, then we have nothing to fear in an afterlife.”
In other words, when the soul leaves the body, no awareness remains—We will have no consciousness, no regrets for the life we lost, nor anything to fear. When dying is simply ceasing to perceive, to feel, to be…there is nothing in it to dread!
Whether you believe this or not, look at the ripple effect of your life—if you have loved others and helped them…well, those things will never be forgotten!
Ergo, when your body is no longer thriving, the memory of you will last…whether you believe in an afterlife or not!
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James