The rhythmic sound of the ventilator combined with the steady beep of the monitors were hypnotic. Sounds that had become much too familiar as I slept in the room next to his.
‘He can’t understand you,” the doctors had said apologetically when they saw me speaking to him attempting to pour the endless stream of love I felt upon him. I read him stories of healing, letters I had written to him in the sleepless nights, and sang softly in his ear. “He is unresponsive,” they would say as they rubbed their knuckle into his sternum.
“They know so much,” I thought, “And yet so very little.” After all that had happened leading up to this I still didn’t quite understand how others could not hear what I heard and feel what I could feel. This man, this now frail and tiny man was communicating with me more clearly than I had ever known. I could feel his presence within me and a peace in him that the appearance would belie.
Looking down at this tiny, impossibly frail body swaddled in hospital blankets, I mused that nobody would ever believe the harshness his voice once had, or the terror he would strike in the hearts of his three youngest children each night when we saw the headlights of his car from the picture window. We would sound the alert that he was home. Each of us would scamper, checking that things were in order hoping we hadn’t forgotten anything that might set him off. We knew the later it was the more alcohol he had poured down his throat. We would try greeting him in a sweet tone, hoping we could assuage the unpredictable outbursts of anger that might erupt at any moment and for any reason.
Dad was a harsh man and a hard worker. The depression era had instilled in him that stern, matter-of-fact view of life that comes from deep struggle. His hands were hands that were accustomed to hard labor and his words seldom suggested that love was behind them. He attempted to assuage his deep pain with a steady stream of alcohol each night and was expert at criticism and blaming his six children for his troubles. I spent many years in anger and felt a seething hatred for him for both all that he wasn’t and for all that he was.
He could have split us up after mom died–six children, five of them still at home, the youngest only seven. He had never done a load of laundry or cooked a meal. I don’t even remember his presence much prior to her passing; he was just the man who yelled at night and threw things…including our mother. I was often told that he was having a bad diabetic reaction. “What a terrible disease that must be,” I would think with my young, trusting mind. He didn’t get much better through my teen years and would often throw my things out on the lawn in reaction to just about anything. He kicked me out at sixteen. I lived in a basement rented room while working at McDonald’s but I was eventually allowed back.
I left dad’s house as soon as I could but the deep wounds went with me. I managed to put myself through college while drinking, doing drugs, and living wherever I could find a floor, but never staying long enough to get too close to anyone. I clung to the tiniest hope for a different experience. I looked in education, in men, in status and money, but the emptiness, the gaping hole and hunger within was not to be satiated by my many attempts.
I knew nothing of a spiritual approach to life and categorically rejected the Judeo-Christian perspective of my upbringing; I saw religion merely as a means to control the masses and the beliefs held by adherents as pure myth at best. God and that Jesus guy were judgmental figures somewhere “out there” that were pointing a finger at me and not a source of comfort in the least.
At one point I finally began to search in the one place, and I do mean probably the only place that I hadn’t tried…within. This new inward journey offered the first glimmer of hope in my young and torturous life and immediately showed promise where all other efforts had failed. I clung to it as an infant to her mother’s breast contentedly drinking of the sublime nectar. I did not know that I had begun the only journey that has meaning in the world. I did not know that my life would soon never be the same. I had no idea that everything that I had ever experienced was leading me to this. And I did not know that very soon the world was going to unzip and lay open for me to see beyond her façade; that I would see with new eyes and hear with new ears and that those things that I once struggled to understand would soon feel more natural than breathing.
A day came that seemed like any other day but by day’s end everything changed. Everything changed as a light beyond words found it’s way through a tiny crack in my mind. This light had always been patiently waiting for me to let it in. In a moment I came to see inexplicable things and I understood that all those that I thought had failed me by not being what I thought I needed them to be, were not responsible for my emptiness. I saw that these many people, these many things, could not ever give me what I longed for and neither did they need to—they could not because what I was looking for had been within me all along. I had simply not known where to look. I had been fishing in fields believing that I could be fed. My hunger pains were silenced as I was led to the water and it was always in the only place it ever is…within.
After this day I lived in a place, a state that simply cannot be described. It is an awareness of things that the world is blind to but that is all around. It is a state of nearly constant wonder, amazement and deep peace. I saw everything differently and began to see dad through kinder, gentler eyes as well. I actually began to enjoy him. But even in this new light dad’s house was still not a place I ever wanted to live again. God had other plans.
I am able to hear a very clear Voice of sorts that often leads me very specifically. I refer to it as a voice for lack of a better word but it’s more like deep inner impressions that are very clear, unmistakable, and that come with a sense of conviction and understanding. Although I was often able to hear this Voice guiding me, sometimes we are not as open to this kind of direct guidance and circumstances must squeeze us in the direction we are to follow. I began to be squeezed. I found myself with no where to live and not one door open but dad’s house. I would not have ever “voluntarily” lived with him again, but without another option, there I was.
One day, as I sat on his sofa, I whispered to myself in confusion, “Why am I here?” The Voice that I had come to recognize and trust responded instantly, “You are here for a reason.” With that I felt a peace and calm come over me; a confidence found only in the Divine and thought, “Well, that’s all I need to know.”
Dad and I baked cookies together and decorated cakes. I redecorated his house over the next months from top to bottom while he looked over my shoulder teasing me. One day, as he stood in the doorway to the living room playfully joked with me, I looked up at him and I knew he would be leaving soon. Not long after he was in the hospital taking his last breath while I spoke softly in his ear.
In those last months I came to utterly and completely ADORE him! I had seen the truth of him during this time and our relationship was wholly transformed. His inestimable value was so evident to me it literally took my breath away. Everybody saw that something had occurred between us and even while lying in the hospital seemingly no longer able to communicate, he spoke to me of many things, including when he would pass. He became this peaceful presence that even others remarked about in amazement.
Dad thought success was found in making money and having things…things that he never had. He didn’t understand why I didn’t find these things important or why I was interested in spirituality. The morning after his transition I awoke to him singing within me; he was a man of few words and when he spoke it was usually harsh and critical so it took me a moment to make the connection between what I was hearing within that morning and dad. It was him but not the man I had known; the presence was sweet and kind and came with gentle laughter.
“My beloved daughter, friend and spiritual sister,” he said, “you helped me more than you can comprehend right now when I did not know. You are doing the only thing that has any importance, and now I am here to help you.”
A deep sense of grief descended upon me after he passed even though he often made his presence known to me. Still quite young, I felt utterly orphaned in the world. I had seen such beauty in my father, the man that I had detested, and now he was gone. There was a black hole of grief that I thought I might never see through.
The darkness continued for a long time but then one day the heavy grief that I thought might never be healed was lifted from me like a feather. I realized that day as I sat looking at the portrait I painted of him that there is not one thing in this world that is permanent…not one. All form ends. The purpose was never to have form last forever but to raise our thoughts to what does last forever. It is to bring us to the place where we walk in the conscious awareness of what lies beyond all form and is forever safe and does live forever. I could see that right now we–dad and I and all–are forever enveloped in Love. We simply cannot be apart. It is just impossible.
I would not change one thing. I would not change one of the thousands of tears I’ve shed. I would not, for they were the elevator to Everything.
(Note: The picture is of a portrait I painted in oil of my dad after he passed. One of the many things that happened after I began having profound spiritual experiences is that I found I could paint just about anything. Portraits can often take a considerable amount of time to paint but I finished this portrait in a couple of hours.)
Your story is so like mine. I also took care of him till he died. We watched sports ans talked a lot after dinner. He also worried about my Mom and I told hime the same thine. He had been gone 17 years and I miss him eery day. My Mom died 14 years ago and I took care of her till she died. I miss her very much. I sometimes catch myself thinking ” I must till Mom this” The anniversary of her death is comming up March 28th. I still have dried roses from their funeral sitting on my desk. I’m 81 this year and I’m still my Daddy’s “little girl”
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I had a very similar experience with my dad and then a miracle happened with him and we became very close and his heart totally changed! He was finally a loving man and dad until the day he died and was such a witness to many people! So lesson is that our hearts no matter how hard they become can certainly change.
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Thankyou. X
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Thank you so much for sharing your heart, your relationship with your Dad, & the beautiful painting. I know the Holy Spirit that lies within all of us & is only a prayer away. All we have to do is seek. I had a super closeness with my Daddy. It was my mother who was the abuser. My Daddy finally left & because I was so close to my Daddy, a Daddy’s girl 100%, she held that against me which made things worse & even more abusive. In 1991 my Mother had a major stroke. She survived & came out of it a completely different person. She became a loving & tender person. I was a grown married person then & was very grateful to be able to have a closeness with her prior to losing her to a stroke & heart failure. The Holy Spirit worked a divine restoration & reconciliation because my heart was open & forgiving began. Thank you for sharing your heart & experience with us.
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I so enjoyed reading your post and could so relate. I am so glad you found piece within! Thanks for sharing it. You are such a talented and strong women.
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Your amazing talent and the wisdom of Princess Sassypants was always a strong indicator that you went through a lot, but were lovely guided to find your calling, with everything you have learned and mastered along the way. Thank you so much for letting us in, to see a big part of your journey and awakening. It’s so beautiful to witness these transformations! Much love and light and blessings – every day.
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I thought I was alone in the world without anyone ever being able to understand what I have gone thru in my life. Your words about your experiences have woke up some many feelings which I have buried in the past. My older brother passed away in November and even though he was in a medically induced comma before he passed, I felt the need to hold his hands and sent my thoughts to him over and over again, telling him how much he meant to me and how much I loved him and that I knew he was onto to his next adventure. Thank you for putting into words things which I never could.
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Honey, I love the calm that getting there has brought to me. So glad that you reached it too. 🌹
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Beautiful. I had a near death experience at age 32. It was mind-blowing. I was not wanting to return to my life here. All there is LOVE! There is Zero judgment! Who would want to leave Heaven? I changed my mind when I was reminded of the experiences of all the senses being in body and woke up in my hospital bed in AWE. This world is like a dream! And sometimes a nightmare. I forget I can’t die. Just change form. Thank you for the reminder I’m 60 now. Not as bold as I used to be. But your reminder has given me courage today, to step out and do more and be more. Thank you! 💗✨💗
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Maybe one day I can find that place, hear that voice. Thank you for sharing your poignant, uplifting story. You are a bright, shining light in this dark world. You can’t know how much your quotes have helped me in some very dark times. Wishing you love, light and peace always. Robin S.
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Maybe we’ll all be there with you.
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I took care of my Dad when he was dying. He and I would sit at the kitchen table off and on and talk. He worried about my Mom after he was gone and I reassured him that we would make sure Mom stayed in their home till she died. (I later took care of her till she died, in her home). I watched sports with him, talked about his war years, growing up on a farm in the ’30’s, all kinds of things of things we never had time for when I was young. He worried that he hadn’t been a “good” dad as he worked all the time. I knew and reassured him that I couldn’t have had a better Dad in all the world. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything. It’s been almost 10 years abd I miss him still, everyday.
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What a beautiful tribute to your Dad. It brought tears to my eyes. My Dad and I were so much alike…stubborn, funny and right fighters. I didn’t realize how much until after he passed over 20 years ago. God bless you always ❤
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I can relate to the relationship with your father on many levels. It is amazing how the moments of our lives, good and bad, shape us into the individuals we become. I understand the idea that every instant molded me like a potter shaping clay. I am thankful that you had the time to share with your father. No matter the future or the past, those are memories for a lifetime. Thank you for sharing your many talents with me and everyone. I appreciate you☺️
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Thank you so much for sharing this heartbreaking yet uplifting journey with your father. I’m certain it hit home with many that have or had similar relationships with a parent.
Sending thoughts and prayers your way.
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Thank you for sharing your “journey” called life. It was quite inspiring and touching. I’m so glad that you were able to mend your relationship with your father. And what a great relationship it turned out to be. Thank you for “the voice” , which is the gift of the Holy Spirit given to us by Our Father in Heaven. Thank you for being obedient to the Holy Spirit, because it was exactly what you and your father needed. May the Lord bless you always. You are an inspiration to us all. ❤❤❤
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Thank you for sharing your beautiful testimony! I loved reading about you & appreciate that you came to know God & what He had in store for you! You are quite the artist & continue to entertain me each day. You portrait of your father is amazing. 🥰
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I remember.🙏🏼🌹❤️
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Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful experience….as we call “Life”.
Today already being saddened by family issues, I stumbled upon your writing. Though my Father and I had issues, it wasn’t until I was in my 30’s that I had to forgive him before I could be healed and live a better life. Your article brings back those days of trial for me. I don’t know what age you were but your Voice told you to get past the pain to see the light.
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Thank you for sharing such a deeply moving and inspiring story.
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Thank you for sharing your personal spiritual journey with your followers. I have listened to the “voice” that has guided me my entire life. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just me or something much more than I could ever be.
My life has been a very rocky road and I’ve struggled to enjoy “the trip to the station.” I’ve found that my pets give me the most joy today. I have a horse and 1 dog remaining having just lost my Maltese 2 weeks ago. She was my baby and my emotional support pup for 14.5 years and I miss her so much 💔😪
But life goes on so I live for the ones that need me still…
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You are amazing in everything you say & in everything you do. God has made you strong so you can cope.. He knew you would see hardship & pain & he made sure you were strong. For your Dad, Your Sister & for Prince Pup. God Bless You Princess Sassy Pants. 🙏
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What a amazing journey you have lived and have been blessed that God had a plan though all your trials. I feel so blessed to see you are able to speak about your true feelings so that you can be a blessing to others.
My Mom, who I had rough trials with her, she passed last year, but she would say to smile at everyone you pass because it might be the only smile they will get and they may not seem like a nice person but to treat them kind because we don’t know what has happened or is happening in their life. I am grateful to read this from you because it has awakened me to think, maybe my Mom was referring to her. My Mom was so kind to others but not so with my family.
May God continue to richly bless you and thank you. ❤️🙏
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This is beautiful…..you definitely have many gifts….thank you for all the ‘uplifts’ I get from your site💗
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Thank you Jane for sharing your story with us.
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Beautiful
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BEAUTIFUL AND MEANINGFUL. FROM MY HEART TO YOURS, VITORIA
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Once I started I simply could not stop reading your beautiful and so eloquently written story. With many parallels to my own relationship with my dad, what you experienced deeply resonated with me. I remain grateful to God that He gave my dad almost seven years of sobriety, before taking him home, and that during this time I was able to know him better and to grow closer to him. The things of this life hold no comparison to what we will know with our Father and loved ones for all eternity. God bless you! Thank you for sharing your life and light!
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Thank you so much for sharing this, there is so much of my life in this also. I know my Dad found God after a lot of drunken years and that God forgave him, but I always find it hard for me to forgive him. He has been gone for a number of years but when his name is mentioned I always go back to the cussing and abusive side of him instead of the new man he became. I always wanted him to say he loved me but he never did! I guess he thought I knew! ❤
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Thank you for writing your amazing story. Your dad was so lucky to have such a beautiful daughter by his death bed. I am truly inspired. May God bless you. Your are a true princess!!
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So beautiful. Once you find GOD you are forever changed. You are amazing and have helped countless people to find their light. I feel it. Thank you for inspiring us.
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Our lives all have a Story .
This brought tears to my eyes as it is very close to my heart .
My father , dyin of lung cancer, 83 years, abused 3 of his 5 children .
I have since in my older years , this shaped my life . Mostly for the bad . I have forgiven him but mostly have a sense of loss not having a Dad/Father that I deserved.
Thank you for sharing your story .
~ BITTERSWEET ~
GOD BLESS 💗🤗❤
You found & are truly blessed for your meaning/ purpose & talent in life .
I have yet to still find mine.
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My mom and I were so close that I couldn’t even imagine life without her. When she died in 2005 from a glioblastoma we were all lost. My parents had been married almost 60 years. My dad went to work and brought home his paycheck. She did everything else and well! She managed the money, paid the bills, made sure we had oil to heat the house, and food on the table. My dad worked two jobs for ten years to help renovate our 50 year old farmhouse. He did what dads did then. Mowed the grass (five acres), planted huge gardens, painted, and whatever else she told him to do. But, there were those days when he came home from work and would take his frustrations out on us. He would pound his fist on the table, yell, cuss, and ruin dinner for all of us. My mom would kick us under the table to shut up if one of us decided to take him on. There was no winning with him. And because of that, we stayed away from him. So, I really didn’t have a relationship with him for years. He did help coach my high school basketball team which was awesome! We finally had something to talk about. When I went to college and I would call home and he answered the phone, he’d say, “Let me get your mother.” We never talked more than a minute or two. I wanted a relationship with him but I needed him to want one, too. When “Mommy” was so sick, my dad had to talk with me. It was rough at first. Still short conversations and mainly focused on my mom’s illness. After she died, he was forced to talk with us. My sister and I jumped in and helped him. It took two of us to do what our mom did. I took care of the bills and she was in charge of the medicine. Neither of us lived near him. I was 6 hours away and she had to fly home. He had never lived alone. It was a shock to his system. So, he waited anxiously for our daily calls and he started calling us. We would talk for over ten minutes or more! This was great progress! We would laugh at his stories even if we had heard them a million times before. Throughout the year he would spend four months at his house, four months at my house, and four months at my sister’s house. He had clothes, recliners, and beer joints in three states! We were very proud! Finally, he could no longer stay at home by himself so he moved in with my husband and me. Daddy and I spent many hours just the two of us together. We loved to watch sports and would discuss the games afterwards. He would still get mad from time to time. Yell a little bit, feel like his old self. One day he got mad at me and told me to “go to hell.” And I said, “See you there!” He laughed and said, “That was a good one!” No longer mad. He lived 13 years after my mom died. When she died we felt that it was the wrong parent to die. She was able to do everything where he wasn’t because he had never done any of that stuff. Now, I look at those thirteen years as a blessing. He and I got to know each other. We were able to talk about most anything. We made some memories just for us. The last time I saw him, we watched a Steeler game together. We laughed and talked and had a good time. I didn’t get to see him right before he died but having watched his last football game with him makes that ok. I miss him and my mom everyday.
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So many of your words resonated with me, as if you were speaking of my own life. I, too, found a spiritual way to get past all those hurtful, negative feelings that I had felt for so many years. God bless you as you continue on life’s journey.
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This is beautiful! I needed this today and right at this moment. I am right where I am meant to be at every moment and the gift is that I know. ❤️
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The gift of forgiveness is a gift from God. I’m a Christian. I believe you will eventually become a Christian, too. Your many gifts are leading you ever more closer to God. Give Christianity a chance. True Christianity is simple love. God is love. Not some hovering prosecutor. I know you know that.
Enjoy reading your FB posts. You touch hearts forever unknown with love.
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Your awakenings are gifts of hope and gifts of peace
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You are such an amazing person and you never cease to inspire every day! Thank you for sharing these deep personal feelings with us. ♥️♥️♥️ Sorry for your loss. ♥️♥️♥️
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Loved your story.. you are very talented woman. I love your site.
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I have tried to write about my father who was a carbon copy of yours. Angry. violent. cruel at times for the sport of it. recently in the quiet of the pandemic isolation I finally did. I came to a different conclusion but this essay shows me there may be a different path to healing tho I know it cannot be forced. Thank you for this, my path to heal has been to attempt forgiveness, tho he has been gone for 18 years. I am happy to read that you found a way to reconnect. An old expression I heard almost 40 years ago, ‘to share a love, doubles it. To share a burden, cuts it in half.’ you have done both. sending you much love. Lyssa
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Just Beautiful 💙
So happy for you and your father got to spend that precious time together.
Bliss you. 💖
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Praying for Your Father and You , The Bible says by Jesus stripes We are healed , God watches over His Word to preform it . You are a very strong Women , Jesus will take You through this ! Love this site Sharon PRAYING
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Your writings always seem to touch the deepest part of me and others I’m sure as you have a way to put into words so eloquently yet direct what so many of us struggle to identify. Thank you as always for sharing with all of us fragments of your journey that is called life. ❤
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Blessings, been there, done that.
The awareness is a gift and the healing nothing short of a miracle
God is good, all the time, and prayers do get answered
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Amazing story that I can relate too so much! You are an amazing woman!!❤️
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Sorry for your loss!!🙏
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Your story is so inspiring….Thank you.
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I don’t believe in afterlife. In order to do so, I would have to believe in time (after). And death. Both of which are foreign concepts. – Akabosan GB
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❤️✝️
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You are amazing! 🤗
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Amen!
What a journey we take.
Wonderful that you were able to walk that road with your Father.
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💕🧚🏻♀️🌈
Sending much love…
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