The Uses of Failure: Lessons from Patricia Hampl at the 1985 Robert Wright Writers Conference

In 1985, the Fourth Annual Robert Wright Writer’s Conference at Mankato State University welcomed Patricia Hampl, an acclaimed American memoirist, essayist, and poet, as its keynote speaker. Known for her lyrical prose and introspective explorations of memory, identity, and spirituality, Hampl captivated attendees with her reflections on the craft of writing, drawing deeply from her own experiences. Her address, titled “The Uses of Failure,” offered a candid and practical perspective on how setbacks can shape a writer’s journey. 

I had attended the conference with the late John Prin, who had mentored me as a fledgling wanna-be writer. After having failed as a missionary, working at an orphanage in Mexico for close to a year, I began thinking more deeply and praying about what my life was really about. A year or so before I felt called to be a writer, which is a much longer story.

I met John at a writer's group in Eden Prairie, a suburb of the Twin Cities. We were fast friends. The Mankato State conference was the second we attended together. Interestingly, both of us were quite familiar with failure--John had spent ten years trying to make it as a screenwriter in Hollywood--so Ms. Hampl's keynote talk had something for both of us.

This weekend I found a notebook from that conference. Using Google Lens I was able to convert my handwriting to digital text. Below is an article summarizing the notes I took during Ms. Hampl's talk, weaving her insights together with the wisdom she imparted to a small auditorium full of aspiring writers.

Embracing Failure as a Writer 

Patricia Hampl, born in St. Paul, Minnesota, in 1946, has spent her career weaving personal memory with cultural and historical threads. By 1985, she had been writing for two decades, earning recognition for her memoir A Romantic Education (1981), which explored her Czech-Irish heritage and helped elevate memoir as a serious literary genre. At the conference, Hampl shared that her path to success was not linear but marked by failures that ultimately fueled her growth as a writer. “Writing, like love,” she said, “is something you give expecting nothing.” This mindset, she argued, is essential for committing to the work itself, rather than chasing external rewards.

Hampl outlined three pivotal failures that shaped her career, each offering lessons in resilience, self-validation, and clarity.

Failure 1: The Dream of the Concert Pianist

Hampl’s first failure was her childhood ambition to become a concert pianist—a dream that ended in “total failure.” Yet this setback led her to writing, a discovery that became her true calling. The lesson? Failure can redirect us to paths we might never have explored otherwise. For Hampl, the collapse of one dream opened the door to another, revealing writing as her medium for self-expression.

Failure 2: The Sting of Rejection

The late John Prin (L) and myself
during an annual meet-up in Hinckley, 2020.

Hampl recounted the emotional devastation of a rejection from The New Yorker, which left her creatively paralyzed for two years. She admitted to being unprepared for the “inflationary effects of success”—the pressure to maintain a certain standard after early achievements. This experience taught her a crucial lesson: writers must find validation from within. “I don’t care if I can’t do it well,” she said, “I just have to write.” By learning to trust the intrinsic value of her work, Hampl overcame the paralyzing fear of external judgment.

Failure 3: The Perils of Inflated Expectations

Her third failure came when a major magazine commissioned her to write a piece on Sylvia Plath. The pressure to produce something extraordinary led to what Hampl called an “inflating situation,” where lofty expectations hindered her ability to write authentically. This experience underscored the importance of understanding what rejection means—not as a verdict on one’s worth, but as an opportunity to refine one’s craft and perspective.

Practical Strategies for Sustaining the Writing Life

Hampl didn’t just dwell on failure; she offered practical advice for sustaining oneself as a writer. Her suggestions were grounded in simplicity and self-care, emphasizing the importance of staying connected to the joy of writing:

1. Relax: Let go of perfectionism to free your creative energy.
2. Take long walks: Physical movement can clear the mind and spark inspiration.
3. Surround yourself with supportive friends: A community that believes in your writing can provide emotional sustenance.
4. Read voraciously: Immersing yourself in others’ work fuels creativity and perspective.
5. Embrace diversity: Allow yourself to explore varied interests and experiences to enrich your writing.
6. Resist the “mystery” of marketing: Focus on the craft, not the pressure to sell your work.

Hampl’s advice was pragmatic, urging writers to prioritize clarity over the pursuit of masterpieces. “You don’t put things down on paper to produce masterpieces,” she said, “but to gain clarity.” This perspective reframes writing as an act of discovery, not a race to perfection.

The Inner Peace of Writing

Hampl’s talk was peppered with insights that resonated beyond the page. Quoting Ettie Hillimson, she shared, “The fear of missing out is what keeps us out of things.” For writers, this fear can manifest as a fixation on external validation or unattainable standards, which stifles creativity. Instead, Hampl advocated for keeping standards low enough to maintain motivation, avoiding the paralysis of perfectionism. “Every time I get high-falootin’ about my writing, I crash,” she confessed, highlighting the dangers of bloated ambitions.

She also emphasized the value of “going away” for sustained immersion in one’s work. Whether it’s a physical retreat or a mental space carved out for writing, this dedicated time fosters the clarity and focus needed to grow. Hampl echoed Hillimson again: “The more peace there is in us, the more peace there will be in our troubled world.” For Hampl, writing is not just a craft but a path to inner peace, a way to navigate the chaos of life through reflection and creation.

Failure as a Catalyst for Growth

Her keynote was a reminder that failure is not the opposite of success but a vital part of it. By sharing her own struggles—failed dreams, crushing rejections, and inflated expectations—she showed that setbacks are not endpoints but opportunities for growth. Her message to the writers at Mankato State University was clear: embrace failure, learn from it, and let it guide you toward clarity and authenticity.

For aspiring writers, Patricia Hampl’s insights remain timeless. 

Photos: LaVerne Harrell Clark, 1980 (top) and 1995.

Tribute to John Prin: Author, Mentor and Friend

Selfie taken during our annual meet in Hinckley, 2020.

We lost another good one. 

In 1982 I met John Prin at a Twin Cities Christian Writers group. An author of national stature came to speak at one of those early meetings we attended and after the meeting we sought each other out because of the questions we each had asked in the Q&A session.

 

John had been a full-time writer at Control Data, a major corporation during the early days of the digital age. I was a "failed missionary" who was now painting apartments and trying to figure out how I would spend the rest of my life. I felt inwardly drawn to the idea of being a writer and ultimately came to believe it was a calling. To this end John became my mentor. He not only helped me improve my skills as a writer, he taught me how the publishing business worked for freelancers. 

The following summer we attended the weeklong Decision School of Writing and from that time on I began publishing continuously. From the end of 1982 til 1986 I painted apartments by day and devoted myself to developing my writing skills and getting assignments by night. 

In 1986 Susie and I inherited her grandmother's house in Duluth. It was my hope to get a full-time writing job and put painting apartments behind us. To showcase my work while job hunting, John instructed me to buy a $25 binder instead of a three or five dollar binder. The tactic worked. It created a professional impression that led to several freelance assignments before landing a position as a writer the first week of July. This "break" evolved into a successful career in advertising, marketing and PR. 

1988. Top row: John and I. Front row:
John's Susie, my Susie and their Emily.

Over the years John and I continued to meet annually, to share our life adventures and writing successes. I was impressed with his successes as an author, an addictions counsellor and involvement in helping the needy, not only here but also in war torn Kosovo.*

In 2007 I began blogging daily and three years ago added Medium, another blogging platform. John followed my online activities keenly and last year sought my help getting started on Medium himself. He was excited about Koinonia, a publication for Christian writers, as a platform. He was attracted to its capacity for helping others beyond his physical sphere of influence.

Because he was older and had not been involved in social media before, it took a lot of hand holding, and I did all I could to help him with blogging the way he guided my early efforts to become a publishing writer.  

A week ago Friday he called me, seeking help on another article for Koinonia. We agreed to set up a time to work through the issue on Saturday, but when he called Saturday to follow up he was unable to talk. John has been battling pulmonary fibrosis for the past few years, a disease that took his daughter Emily 5 years ago this month, and which his twin brother Dave is also struggling with now. 

The next day he went to the hospital and passed away by mid-week, diagnosed with pneumonia and Covid on top of his primary issue.  

* * *

I wrote this a couple days ago not knowing how to finish. Perhaps it's a way of saying thanks to someone who made a difference in my life. 

If you're a young person reading this with something on your heart you wish to pursue, find a mentor whose values you share and who has travelled the path ahead of you enough to help show you the way.  

*John and his wife Susie made 13 humanitarian trips to Kosovo and twice to Macedonia. Susie also made trips to Albania, Bosnia, Croatia, and Serbia with other groups.  

Related Links

John's website: www.TrueYouRecovery.com

John's books on Amazon

Roadmap to Lifelong Recovery: Interview with John Prin

Stories by John published on Koinonia

Grown-ups, Have Your Dreams Come True?

Guest blog post by John Prin

“The greatest despair is to not become the person you were meant to be.”

--Soren Kierkegaard

Ramona had a dream. A big dream. During one of my seminars, she declared, “My dream is to prevent any animal on the planet from ever being harmed.” Her certainty and clarity got everybody’s attention, as it did mine. But she was too busy with life, taking care of three growing children, running a busy household, and working part time at a supermarket as well as volunteering on weekends. How could she possibly realize such a huge dream?

We all dream about the best life we want to live. Many of us imagine great deeds and larger-than-life goals. Almost any functioning adult, it turns out, faces a primal, deep-rooted quandary that will define their identity:

“Why am I alive?”

“What is my purpose in life?”

“What am I going to do about it?”

In our minds, we may aspire to lofty achievements and significant acts of service that will inspire our fellow human beings. We may envision striving for a grand purpose, a destiny we are meant to fulfill. Yet . . .

A vast number of us learn that life gets in the way. Quite simply, we confront obstacles and life’s demands, so we eventually settle for less and move on. Where do those dreams of making a difference go? When we postpone our destiny, is a happy ending impossible?

Some people avoid the responsibility of answering these three questions by working hard at unsatisfying jobs to provide a living for their family, while others escape into the abuse of drugs and alcohol or depression and apathy, to cite a few responses. My seminar titled My Life Dream and Destiny occurred during a national conference for health care professionals. 1 I asked the thirty-five audience members: “Have any of you defined your dream in life and are you working to make it come true? Or, is your destiny on hold waiting for you to act?”

That’s when Ramona, a woman in her 40s, raised her hand and declared her big dream. Fellow participants affirmed its idealism, its simplicity and universal scope, but wondered how a goal so lofty could ever be achieved. We discussed how significant progress toward a goal that huge for one person would itself be a worthy lifetime project. One participant suggested narrowing “animals” to more manageable limits: from dogs, to cats and other pets, to horses, and so on.

“So, Ramona,” I asked, “what steps are you taking to make your dream come true?”

“None right now,” she responded. “But that’s why I’m here: to come up with a plan and do something about it.”

Ramona reminisced about being raised on a farm and her childhood love of animals. The passion in her voice aroused us. I asked, “In what ways could you rekindle that same passion as a mature adult?” She drew a blank. 

One group member suggested, “Sounds like you know why you are alive and what your purpose is.” Another proposed that she could volunteer at a local humane society where injured or abused animals need care. Ramona liked that idea, however, “My goal is to prevent animals from being abused and mistreated in the first place.” Still another member offered to help create a website to promote her cause. She scribbled notes.

Group members raised the issue of priorities: What activities would Ramona have to put aside to make available more time in her schedule to invest the energy her big dream required. People suggested new choices of activities such as encouraging neighbors and friends to join her, using social media to spread the word, different ways to raise money, etc. Ramona acknowledged that her husband and kids no longer needed the level of attention she’d once devoted to them years earlier. “A lot of years have piled up behind me, and the ones ahead are getting fewer and fewer. I’m going crazy every day thinking about it.”

“The purpose of life is to live a life of purpose.”

--Poet Robert Byrne

Whenever people focus on positive and authentic goals that matter deeply to them their energy elevates and new priorities become clearer. I offered a three-phase model intended to help a person “unleash the most complete version of their authentic self—to embrace “the True You self” that strives to make one’s dream come true for the benefit of others.” 2

Dream: An ideal that nourishes and challenges me.

Purpose: My motivation to do, and be, my best for others.

Meaning: Why my dream, and my life, matter.

The distinctions between “dream,” “purpose,” and “meaning” set off some animated comments. As individuals, we can choose and develop our dream based on our strongest interests and highest values. Purpose stimulates us to arrange the roles and responsibilities of our job/finances, family/spouse/children, and citizenship functions in society that will facilitate our dream.

Meaning is the set of emotions that result; it’s what happens when the benefits and rewards for others and ourselves accrue from acting freely and authentically.

For Ramona, that meant a solid answer to the question, “Does my life matter?” She replied with a resounding, “Yes.” A happier family life could also follow because she would be acting consistently with her authentic dream and celebrating when each of her objectives and goals made headway.

Meaning is the elixir of life that human beings seek and desire, the fulfillment of one’s life lived with passion and purpose. Meaning can be experienced as inner joy even in the midst of outer trials and severe circumstances. Meaning results from accomplishing tasks and goals which achieve a broader purpose; it follows from expressing one’s gifts to the world, and from serving something larger than oneself (a cause, a population, a life mission). 3

“The key to realizing a dream is to focus not on success but significance, and then even small steps and little victories along your path will take on greater meaning.” 

--Oprah Winfrey

John Prin leading a seminar.

When aligned, a person’s dream, purpose, and meaning generate the reality of knowing who we are and why we are alive. We live out the reason for getting up in the morning and moving through the day. When legitimate daily demands of competing priorities arise, like careers or parenting, we find fresh energy to keep going.

Ask yourself: “Is my destiny calling me? Is it time to go deep within myself—beyond being a mom/dad and wife/husband and employee/boss—and nurture the “me” who is an artist, inventor, explorer, entrepreneur, leader, or pioneer?” Expressing that identity will make possible the finest moments of being alive—as one who knows who you are and why you are alive.

“With optimism and a firm belief in a positive future, you can throw yourself into the service of that which is larger than you are.”

--Martin Seligman, Founder of Positive Psychology

1. Florida Inner Circle Networking Conference, Fort Lauderdale February 2008

2. Roadmap to Lifelong Recovery Guidebook, © John Prin, 2008 PESI 2008

3. Authentic Happiness, © Martin E. P. Seligman, Jan 5, 2004 Atria Books

Grouchy? Cranky? Get a Gratitude Book

Guest blog post by John Prin

Photo: Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

You can probably name in five seconds someone in your life who grumbles, grouses, and gripes as a habit. They’re in a rut and can’t, or won’t, get out. Maybe someone bitter toward anybody or anything contrary to their way of doing things—"It’s my way or the highway!” 

Certain people habitually moan and groan about all kinds of circumstances and difficulties. Result? A stinking swamp of negative thoughts that pollute a person’s moods and attitudes. The root cause of many complainers’ anger is often deep ingratitude. 

This post offers AA wisdom for folks gripped by ingratitude and its partners in crime, resentments and self-pity. You don’t have to be an alcoholic or addicted, or a member of any 12-Step group, to benefit from the tried-and-true practices of AA (Alcoholics Anonymous, estab. 1935). 

Before I attended my first AA meeting in 1996, I was up to my neck in my own stinky swamp. I carried inside me a running list of hurts and grudges. Things began to change when each meeting began with 25-30 men standing in a circle and praying aloud the Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot  change. . .” STOP, my mind would cry, stop right there. Did I have serenity? My drinking had squeezed the possibility of its rewards to zero. Too many things were unacceptable in my life, several of my own doing. How could a sad mess like that change?  

Se-ren-i-ty, noun: the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled. A positive state of mind wherein you won’t feel as troubled by life’s ups and downs; serene, tranquil, unclouded.       Oxford Languages

One evening, my sponsor “Jack” warned me that other members were aware of my grouchy, cranky demeanor. He asked, “Do you have a gratitude book, John?” I stared at him as though he had spoken gibberish. “Your pent-up anger is working against you,” he added, “and if you don’t face it and deal with it, it will undermine your sobriety and you’ll be back at square one.” I fired off a well-rehearsed list of grievances: hangovers, black-outs, two failed careers, marriage troubles, a sore toe, the economic recession, icy cold winter weather, and my own failure to control the damage of too much booze. He told me about his own history of ingratitude and spoke of the success to unburden his angry emotions that had resulted from following his sponsor’s advice.

Fast-forward six years. Now I was a Licensed Alcohol & Drug Counselor with six years of life-changing sobriety without a relapse. At the out-patient recovery clinic where I worked, a new client named “Kevin” made others uncomfortable with his nasty remarks and a brooding temper like I had once behaved. Having experienced the wholesale changes from keeping my own gratitude book and practicing each of the 12 Steps, my personal transformation from following Jack’s advice had led to a more peaceful and upbeat manner—definite periods of serenity. I now saw the opportunity to pass on Jack’s same guidance to Kevin.

“It works like this, Kevin,” I said. “Go and buy a small, hand-sized, spiral-bound memo pad that fits in your pocket, then write on one side of one page just one thing you are thankful for each day. Don’t try to use too many words. Carry it with you wherever you go. The goal is to notice, to pay attention to, to be aware of the times you feel grateful—for a beautiful sunset, a kind comment from a stranger, your wife’s cooking, a co-worker’s good deed. You get the idea. It’s about getting outside yourself and developing the habit of appreciating some fact or reality of daily life, either big or small.” 

We then turned to page 62 in the Big Book and I asked him to read aloud: “Selfishness—self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles. . . Above everything we alcoholics must be rid of this selfishness. We must, or it kills us!" (1)

Kevin was skeptical. He delayed starting his own gratitude book, participating instead in group therapy sessions and science-based lessons about neurotransmitters in the human brain. A few days later I learned he had made a list of grievances instead. To get him to focus, I showed him examples of jottings in one of my own early memo pads (to demonstrate how the habit developed of looking for reasons to be thankful), and the importance of taking time to write down such kinds of things. Kevin’s interest really revved up. We then flipped to page 64 and he read the following: “Resentment is the ‘number one’ offender. It destroys more alcoholics than anything else.” (2)

Something clicked for Kevin. He hooted and said, “That’s gotta be it. Resentment! I’ve been told that so many times!” I showed him how the root word of “resent”—“sent” means “feel” in Latin (think sensual, sensitive, sensational)—thus ‘re’ (means ‘again’) added to ‘sent’ equals “resent” which means to refeel past painful abuses and disturbing emotional injuries. Clearly a break-through occurred for Kevin as he experienced the feeling of freedom from letting go of his burdensome grudges and, later, choosing to change his thinking. 

The clincher came when he showed me one of the grievances on his list: “Those no-good Twins missed the playoffs again this season.” As a tried-and-true fan of Minnesota’s MLB baseball team, the Twins, Kevin railed on about his history of disappointments, which we identified as long lingering resentments. “How can their season end so miserably year after year? It’s so infuriating. What better reason to get drunk?” Then came the light-bulb insight: “Whenever I’m reminded how they blew it, that’s when I refeel the anger and letdown. Well, no more!”    

Photo by Jan Kahánek on Unsplash

With this understanding, Kevin’s burden of ingratitude began to lessen. He turned his attention to writing down each day the new positive things he noticed which he felt thankful for in his own gratitude book. The success of this process was confirmed two years later when he visited me at the recovery center with a fancy cake to celebrate his second year of successful, relapse-free sobriety. 

Aren’t we all walking wounded at some point in our lives? Perhaps that disgruntled person is you. But allowing one’s mind to stay in that dark cave is unhealthy. It’s up to us to change, and the good news is we can choose whether or not to—because we control how we think; our thoughts don’t control us (they definitely don’t have to). 

The Big Book of AA has wise advice for people who complain or whine too much (that’s whine, not wine!). Open its pages and read about practicing gratitude, and the blissful feeling that often follows of “serenity.” Ask yourself, “Am I missing out on this positive state of being?”

Who do you know that could benefit from releasing their anger and resentments by discovering the freedom of brighter emotions and attitudes with the gift of a $2.49 gratitude memo pad from you? 

Part 2 will explore the role of Step 4 and “Acceptance” in boosting gratitude, for example: “And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today.” (3)

* * * 

Footnotes here are from The Basic Text for Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th edition, Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 2001, ISBN 1-893007-16-2, USA.

1. page 62.
2. page 64.
3. page 417. 

What Will Happen After Your Last Breath?

Guest post by John Prin

Photo courtesy Davide Cantelli via Unsplash

Have you ever stood by a terminally ill person’s bedside the final hours of that individual’s life? For many people who have, thoughts of their own mortality and of the afterlife abound. Whatever your feelings about the bedridden person’s fate, facing your own death—however frightening or unsettling—brings up the question, “What happens after my last breath?” It is an age-old mystery, one that millions of human face and have wrestled with, and will continue to wrestle with, due to lack of certainty and conjecture.

This post offers plausible answers. Let’s start with the documented near-death experiences of Dr. Eben Alexander, who wrote Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey Through the Afterlife (Simon & Schuster, 2012). His book describes in generous detail the journey his consciousness (soul) took beyond this world to the darkest and brightest and highest realms of spiritual existence, where, he says, he “met the Divine source of the universe itself.” (1)

Although scientists have debated the reality of near-death experiences (NDEs) as impossible and scoffed at tales of the hereafter as mere fantasies—and Dr. Alexander was one of those scientists—his own encounter in the heavenly realms while lying inert in a hospital bed during a week-long coma from spinal meningitis convinced him otherwise. Since 2011, he has dedicated his career to a single principle: “that true health can be achieved only when we realize that God and the soul are real and that death is not the end of personal existence but only a transition.”(2) 

If you flat-out disbelieve such a story could be real, you are not alone. Of course, there are skeptics who dismiss the possibility of an afterlife and claim human consciousness ends after one’s last breath, but those are topics thousands of people with NDEs over hundreds of years would vigorously dispute. Back in 731 A.D., The Venerable Bede, an English monk, described a man from Northumbria who “returned from the dead.” After dying in bed one night, the man returned to life at daybreak and sat up, surprising his relatives at his bedside. “Do not be frightened,” he urged, “for I have truly risen from the grasp of death . . . so I must not live as I used to. Rather, I must weigh my actions with greater care and act in ways more virtuous, so when I die I will have a home among the happy spirits who greeted me there.” (3)

 

Numerous similar accounts from 65 studies of 3,500 NDEs and from diverse Western and Eastern cultures are documented in excellent books such as Imagine Heaven by John Burke (Baker Books, 2015) (4) and Life After Life by Raymond A. Moody, Jr. M.D. (Stackpole Books, 1976). (5)   

Over the centuries thousands of parallel accounts have been documented—and, astoundingly, most share a great number of core elements. Take the career of Emergency Room Dr. Thomas Fleischmann of Hamburg, Germany. (6) He and his staff have worked tirelessly to resuscitate individuals on the brink of dying, some 2000 people, and he has eye-witnessed 20 percent of those patients return to life after all vital signs were shut down. From his study of return-to-life patients, he concludes that “a pattern has emerged for which I can personally attest, but for which we have no scientific explanation. That pattern begins instantly once the heart stops beating.” 

He adds:

 Patients report how all pain is gone, all fear is gone. They speak of being at peace, of being calm, secure, and sometimes even joyful.

 Many report floating above their dead bodies completely aware of their environment; they see and hear everything going on.

 They enter a dark, confined space, which for 98 percent of them (regardless of race) feels warm, soothing, and comfortable—yet there is no connection to any religion.

 They see a bright light, far brighter than anything on earth, but not blinding. A dazzling and bright humanlike figure clothed in white garments exudes unconditional love and “speaks” to them via telepathic thoughts.

 Beautiful colors and ethereal music accompany this loving being, who presents a review of the person’s entire life: like a movie displaying all at once positive and negative encounters the person had with others. The key theme is whether love and kindness was shown to people (even animals), or whether hurtful attitudes and behavior predominated.

 Each “traveler” faces the decision whether to continue experiencing the wonderous reality that’s ahead, or, based on their own assessment of the impact of their earthly behavior, to finish certain tasks of living back home and to improve their part in relationships. About half decide for themselves to return. Another half meet former relatives and friends who influence the individual to go back and behave by new rules with others—recall the man described by Venerable Bede: “I must not live as I used to. Rather, I must weigh my actions with greater care and act in ways more virtuous.” 

 Emergency physician Dr. Fleischmann says the main lesson for him is: “Because of my NDE patients, I have absolutely no fear of dying. None.”

As for myself, I can affirm the credibility of such descriptions of the spiritual world from my own eye-witness experience. Also, like Dr. Fleischmann, I personally have no fear of dying. A surprising event occurred the day I stood beside my father’s hospital bed in November, 1965. During quiet moments when I held his hand and stared at his shrunken body, shriveled at age 59 from diabetes-induced kidney, gallbladder, and heart disease, I pondered his fate. Where might he go next, if anywhere?

“Dad, it’s Johnny,” I whispered. “Can you hear me?” No response. A coma had held him captive and mute for weeks, unable to speak or even blink his eyes.

Nothing on this rainy evening stood between Dad and death. To us, his family, it was another visiting day like the many dozens before it. Mom, as usual, spent much of her time sitting in a corner of Dad’s room sewing quietly on her needlework. As I stood at Dad’s bedside humming his favorite song from his boyhood—A Simple Melody, a tune he’d sung many times—I hoped it

would soothe him now.

You can imagine my surprise when his head arched upward and his eyes opened wide. A smile cracked his face as he looked straight up, beaming, at something invisible—invisible to me but clearly very real to him. I reared back, speechless, observing what seemed a miracle. In complete silence, his eyes shined with a supernatural radiance and his smile broadened as though he was making contact with an unseen, benevolent presence, perhaps a welcoming party of cherished family members greeting him in the far beyond. I leaned closer, just a few inches away, and watched his eyes close in complete peace. His last breath came with a slow sigh. The message that seared into my psyche was:

I’ve gone to a place of peace, rest, and comfort—

a place of spectacular wonders—

so have no fear, no doubt, no worry. I am home!

* * * 

1. Proof of Heaven, paperback back cover. 

2. Proof of Heaven Publisher’s “About the Book” description

3. Reflections on Life After Life, Raymond A. Moody, Jr. M.D., p. 66

4. Imagine Heaven, John Burke

5. Life After Life, Raymond A. Moody, Jr. M.D.

6. From Life to Death, Beyond and Back, Thomas Fleischmann, YouTube TEDX talk