Jenn Howe

Our time together on Earth was many things:

confusing, sweet, painful, educational, difficult, terrifying, comical, harmful, helpful, life-shaping, soul-expanding, essential, predestined,

too brief.

The other day, I sat in a room alone with your deceased body, and I told you the things I’d always wanted to tell you.

The amazing thing is: I knew that I wasn’t really talking to the form lying on that hospice bed. I was talking to YOU — and you were there, listening. I felt it. I felt you everywhere. Not long afterward, you would PROVE it…by giving me the exact sign that I had asked for when I was at your bedside.

You would AGAIN provide the same sign the next day — the very specific sign I had requested, this time right after my brother asked for it — in order to confirm for myself and the siblings…you are free, listening, ongoing.

Me…always the skeptic, always doubting.

I’m still not religious, and I NEVER will be…but now I feel something that I didn’t before.

Thank you for that.

Thank you, also, for agreeing to be my father in this life, and for the soul lessons you were supposed to work out with me during our time together. There were things that I was supposed to teach you, and you were supposed to teach me. Some of those lessons continue for me, and many of them were agonizing for us both. But it was an honor to work together with you for greater understanding and ultimate good.

On my side, there is no bitterness or anger. Even when I still sometimes write or speak the more painful truths of my life and our experience together, it will be with integrity — with the healing of others and a greater purpose in mind. There is only love now.

On your side — wherever you are now, anywhere and everywhere— may you fly into the light and among the stars, anywhere you wish…free of all fear and that cumbersome human body.

I hope you always feel my gratitude and love for you. I hope I make you proud.

When I was your little girl, you used to get the guitar and sing this song to me before I went to sleep — “Sweet Baby James,” by James Taylor. Now, I play it for you.

Until we meet again….

Goodnight, Daddy. 💫

Larry Howe

1949 – 2021

💜