My Number Was Up, Dad”, written by Gary and Gabriel Vaught, is the real life account of a phenomenal sequence of events (that still occur today) following the death of the family’s eighteen-year old son, Gabriel. 

 

Gabriel died suddenly and tragically while attending college in Chicago, Il, from symptoms associated with Type-One, (Insulin Dependent) Diabetes. The entire event was a mystery for two short days until their son contacted them from the afterlife to explain his death, his departure from the earth, his amazing revelations and observations of and from heaven.

 

This Fisher’s, Indiana, family could have never imagined a more tragic or startling turn of events in their life. From experiencing the grief of the horror of hearing of their son’s mysterious death, to the channeled communications that occurred in a leisurely dialogue that reinforces his existence in the afterlife, (proving the “Afterlife Consciousness” theory) through Spirit communications.

 

Numerous conversations subsequently have occurred bringing Light to the Vaught’s of what each individual can expect to learn here and hereafter. The journey is laid out in an easy to understand process that bears witness to why each human being lives here and hereafter.

 

The story is a tragedy turned into a triumphant joy for Gary, producing an inner peace that brings him now to the threshold of an entirely new and different life. He spends each moment now walking with Christ. Serving God in instructional and guided ways that help humans better understand their true Spiritual awakening, he discusses anyone’s abilities to communicate with Spirit for guidance or joyous purposes, through conscious awareness and practice.

 

The significance of the messages, serve to inspire faith and awareness, and are insightful, as they raise one’s consciousness beyond customary routine thinking. 

 

This book offers hope to anyone and everyone that has ever lost a loved one, especially a child, that our loved ones are indeed here with us, always!

 

My Number Was Up, Dad”, written by Gary and Gabriel Vaught, is the real life account of a phenomenal sequence of events (that still occur today) following the death of the family’s eighteen-year old son, Gabriel. 

 

Gabriel died suddenly and tragically while attending college in Chicago, Il, from symptoms associated with Type-One, (Insulin Dependent) Diabetes. The entire event was a mystery for two short days until their son contacted them from the afterlife to explain his death, his departure from the earth, his amazing revelations and observations of and from heaven.

 

This Fisher’s, Indiana, family could have never imagined a more tragic or startling turn of events in their life. From experiencing the grief of the horror of hearing of their son’s mysterious death, to the channeled communications that occurred in a leisurely dialogue that reinforces his existence in the afterlife, (proving the “Afterlife Consciousness” theory) through Spirit communications.

 

Numerous conversations subsequently have occurred bringing Light to the Vaught’s of what each individual can expect to learn here and hereafter. The journey is laid out in an easy to understand process that bears witness to why each human being lives here and hereafter.

 

The story is a tragedy turned into a triumphant joy for Gary, producing an inner peace that brings him now to the threshold of an entirely new and different life. He spends each moment now walking with Christ. Serving God in instructional and guided ways that help humans better understand their true Spiritual awakening, he discusses anyone’s abilities to communicate with Spirit for guidance or joyous purposes, through conscious awareness and practice.

 

The significance of the messages, serve to inspire faith and awareness, and are insightful, as they raise one’s consciousness beyond customary routine thinking. 

 

This book offers hope to anyone and everyone that has ever lost a loved one, especially a child, that our loved ones are indeed here with us, always!

 

About the Book We all have very special memories of our daddy. He was the first man we ever loved and we did everything we could possibly do to make sure he was cared for. For nine months we did a rotation and stayed with him and kept him at home until it was no longer physically possible. We stood together and made the decision to place him in an Alzheimer’s facility. We fought every battle we could for him. We loved him physically and emotionally until the last breath that he took. He took us on a journey that we never dreamed we would go. We laughed, loved and cried more than anyone can imagine. We made friends with many people over our journey and now our journey has come to an end. For those who are facing this journey, know that you are not alone. Reach out for help and make friends with those who are walking in the same shoes. Know that those of us who have been there understand your hurt and your pain. These are our stories regarding our journey with our daddy through his nine year battle with Alzheimer’s. Our hope is to help those who are now faced with the same journey. There will be days of happiness and sunshine – embrace these days and let them sustain you through the darker days and always know that you will never walk alone.

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‘Cardinal Feathers: gifts from my son’s life and death by suicide’ is a very stark, honest and brutal look at mental illness, and its effects on children and adults. Written from the view point of a mother whose 16 year old son completed suicide, the book looks at the difficulty in accessing proper, timely and appropriate treatment. And again, from a mother’s view, it looks, in depth, at what is too often the ultimate ending, suicide.

 

Cardinal Feathers explores with a raw honesty and openness the devastation left behind after the act of suicide; the destruction, the grief, the pain, the hopelessness and helplessness.

 

Most of all though, Cardinal Feathers is a story about how one mother chose to look for and accept the gifts left in the wake of the tragedy of her son’s death. It is the story of how she chose to be open to these gifts, despite her pain.

 

Cardinal Feathers is geared to families in similar situations; to youth who may be contemplating suicide; to youth who may know someone who is contemplating suicide; to service providers and mental health workers…to anyone who feels drawn to pick it up and read it.

 

There are enough gifts for everyone.

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It was October when the leaves are in their prettiest colors: orange, red, yellow and on the ground some brown. Sue sat on the porch thinking of her childhood and her two children, the games they played together and the learning they shared. Yes, she had the good life and was blessed and loved by her children and husband, Jack. In the background she could hear their son Billy’s loud giggling and their puppy Rusty, barking. The only one she missed hearing was Anne, their older daughter. Sue knew where Anne was, especially this time of day on Friday. Anne and Jill, her best friend, were playing together in her room. She was always playing with dolls, but then, she was just like Sue when she was little. Jack was due home from work as she looked at her watch and figured she’d better go in and start dinner. As she was going in the front door, the backdoor slammed and a little boy’s voice could be heard yelling. Such joys the children were and after dinner things would settle down, or she hoped. When dinner was on the table and was everyone together, meal prayers would be said. How long does it take to say grace and be thankful? Well, with the knocking on the door and the doorbell ringing, Sue thought dinner would never begin especially when each time Jack went to the door and no one was there. Was it their mind playing tricks on them or was someone really there? Follow the pranks and comedy in this heartfelt story of a family with everyday lessons.

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It was October when the leaves are in their prettiest colors: orange, red, yellow and on the ground some brown. Sue sat on the porch thinking of her childhood and her two children, the games they played together and the learning they shared. Yes, she had the good life and was blessed and loved by her children and husband, Jack. In the background she could hear their son Billy’s loud giggling and their puppy Rusty, barking. The only one she missed hearing was Anne, their older daughter. Sue knew where Anne was, especially this time of day on Friday. Anne and Jill, her best friend, were playing together in her room. She was always playing with dolls, but then, she was just like Sue when she was little. Jack was due home from work as she looked at her watch and figured she’d better go in and start dinner. As she was going in the front door, the backdoor slammed and a little boy’s voice could be heard yelling. Such joys the children were and after dinner things would settle down, or she hoped. When dinner was on the table and was everyone together, meal prayers would be said. How long does it take to say grace and be thankful? Well, with the knocking on the door and the doorbell ringing, Sue thought dinner would never begin especially when each time Jack went to the door and no one was there. Was it their mind playing tricks on them or was someone really there? Follow the pranks and comedy in this heartfelt story of a family with everyday lessons.

The collection of personal essays, Someone Traveling, chronicles one life unfolding in the aftermath of murder. Each of the essays tells a story that crosses internal and external boundaries like acts of grieving do. Grieving consciously and unconsciously, the widow travels. Someone Traveling is a name borrowed in order to relate stories about all sorts of travel from short jaunts for local color to metaphorical outings on the displacements and harbors of loss. Someone Traveling tells of experiments in travel rather than well thought-out itinerary or once-for-all arriving. How to account for the displacements wrought by murder--self, home, wandering/staying put, healing, memory, intention, myth/history--and what to make of all this transformation? From nearly the first moment, the notes of intimacy in grieving the lover lay the ground for everything else. And although intruders like publicity trouble her grieving, somehow the traveler abides in intimacy. In these essays, the widow goes to this place and that, quite uncharted, to do what was never before required by her. The traveler meets allies she never thought to know before. New intimacies, made-up intimacies abound. The first of these is found in healing sessions. The intensely intimate register of the personal essay proves supple enough for telling of being lost like an out-of-reach memory as well as for creating connection like a new set of nerves. In this collection, intimate stuff, inner stuff is celebrated as the stuff we all know something about. In intimacy, we find commonalities and particularities to excavate for knowing ourselves and others and for reconciling with the world.

The collection of personal essays, Someone Traveling, chronicles one life unfolding in the aftermath of murder. Each of the essays tells a story that crosses internal and external boundaries like acts of grieving do. Grieving consciously and unconsciously, the widow travels. Someone Traveling is a name borrowed in order to relate stories about all sorts of travel from short jaunts for local color to metaphorical outings on the displacements and harbors of loss. Someone Traveling tells of experiments in travel rather than well thought-out itinerary or once-for-all arriving. How to account for the displacements wrought by murder--self, home, wandering/staying put, healing, memory, intention, myth/history--and what to make of all this transformation? From nearly the first moment, the notes of intimacy in grieving the lover lay the ground for everything else. And although intruders like publicity trouble her grieving, somehow the traveler abides in intimacy. In these essays, the widow goes to this place and that, quite uncharted, to do what was never before required by her. The traveler meets allies she never thought to know before. New intimacies, made-up intimacies abound. The first of these is found in healing sessions. The intensely intimate register of the personal essay proves supple enough for telling of being lost like an out-of-reach memory as well as for creating connection like a new set of nerves. In this collection, intimate stuff, inner stuff is celebrated as the stuff we all know something about. In intimacy, we find commonalities and particularities to excavate for knowing ourselves and others and for reconciling with the world.

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