Dear friends,

I want to let you know that Beth and I, and our daughter Audrey, were informed last Tuesday that our son, Ashley, passed from this plane. He lived in the Los Angeles area. The cause of death appears to be heart related, though the coroner’s report is inconclusive at this point. This is the kind of news no parent or sibling wishes to receive, yet here it is on our doorstep. This news has triggered an emotional journey ranging from shock and grief to feelings wafting in like a warm breeze that carries the promise of a new Spring of comfort and meaning.

Over the last forty-five years, I have conducted many funeral services, but always as the comforter, the pastor, the counselor, the one whose purpose was to inspire a higher vision of this sometimes baffling experience of life in a body. It has been my role to help others navigate through what can feel like an earthly maze, with each turn often leaving us with more questions than answers. I have done my best to show others there are answers, to step back and see life as the soul sees it–eternal, beautiful, meaningful, and lived with purpose.

I have also acknowledged the pain of loss, the feeling that even the broadest perspective of life and death cannot sooth. And now I am presented with this side. The mind floods with a mix of memories and the overwhelming sadness that we will never speak to our son again, never hear his voice, or feel the warmth of his hug. It is a void nothing can fill. The comforting words of family and friends are a much needed and appreciated healing balm that is so important on this unexpected journey. Ultimately, however, this is a path that every person in our place must walk alone. Beth, Audrey, myself, our family, and those who were closest to Ashley are, in one sense, walking through this together. Even so, we are each called upon to find within ourselves that fountain of strength, wisdom, and vision that enables us to rise from this darker pain of loss to the bright light of joy of what has been gained by knowing this beautiful soul.

It was at the moment of conception that Ashley announced to me that he was on his way. He arrived on April 20, 1978. I felt him as a very warm and peaceful presence, unlike anything I had experienced. At the time I did not know what had happened, but I soon found out. I experienced it once again when Audrey announced her coming. This time I knew our family was growing. When I think of this, I am reminded of a line from James Dillet Freeman’s poem, The Traveler: “Our life did not begin with birth, it is not of this earth.” I’ve always had the sense that our children intentionally joined Beth and me on our journey. Ashley now continues his life in another way, another dimension, and we will miss him terribly. But we are also grateful that he stepped in and shared with us this part of his eternal life. He leaves us with a gift we will always cherish.

Beth and I thank you for your prayers and positive thoughts in this challenging time. Ashley has moved into his next experience in living, and we see his every step lighted with the love of God.