My up-bringing was “normal”. Growing up as a middle child of six children wasn’t so normal, but being middle-class with a working dad and stay-at-home mom was. I was born Lea Jannette Peterson, on October 9th in lower Michigan. My family moved around a few places, but eventually settled back to our Finnish/Swedish roots in Hancock, Michigan, when I was 4 years old. I have a sister, Faren, 1 1/2 years older, who was my play-mate, best-friend, partner-in-crime, my everything. We didn’t get along all the time, and we still don’t, but we had each other every day. We had wild imaginations. We would rip out pictures of boys from our BOP magazines and paste them on the wall and pretend they were our boyfriends or play “office” and put diet Pepsi in our coffee mugs acting like it was coffee, or pretend to be Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen the crime-investigators, or sell books and lemonade on the corner of our desolate road, or pretend to be “Mom’s” with babies, and sometimes stuff socks or balloons in our shirts as breasts. We couldn’t wait to grow up, experience driving a car, being in love, or even having long hair. We would regularly be caught running around the house with pants on our head symbolizing long hair.
One of my fears as a kid growing up was death. I had reoccurring nightmares of my dead aunt that sent me running to mom and dad’s bed. My other fears were typical, the monster that lived in my basement making me sprint up the flight of stairs, my house burning down, or simply, darkness. But that one fear of death has decided to plague me for eternity. When I was 12, I had a dream my dad died. A couple months later, he did. We had a good relationship before he died. Had I realized then what an amazing person he was, it could’ve been better. It was the summer before I started high school. It was a summer of change, transition, and knowledge. While the adolescent years are already full of turmoil, the dying of my father added a triple dose of chaos. After he passed, my family began reading near-death experience books. We chose to believe these stories because it eased the pain, knowing he was in this magical place, a place our minds cannot even conjure so perfect. These testimonies contradicted my religion’s belief that the soul sleeps in the grave. But I felt my Dad in my dreams at night, I saw his crystal-blue eyes stare deep within my own and felt his presence. This experience shaped the beginning of my new beliefs. His soul wasn’t below the ground, it was with me! It was my experience, and it was real. Dreaming was a haven, an escape from the emptiness and throbbing of my heart. My father’s death has taught me so much. I realized God’s plans are perfectly orchestrated; therefore there was meaning behind this tragedy. With time, the pain and sadness weathered away, and it was then I discovered the meaning of my loss: to seek MY own truth. As my family’s beliefs expanded and faith in God grew, our religion gossiped that “we were straying off the Path.” When I heard these remarks, I wasn’t concerned because I felt that they would learn the Truth after they die. I did not need to suffer from their ignorance.
As time ticks on, I’m realizing I didn’t deal with his death as well as I thought. Poems were my release. I wrote a couple, won awards, and then stopped. I think my grieving stopped with my poems because I find myself crying when memories flood back, and when a sad song is on the radio, and as I write these words. I didn’t cry much back when it happened. While the outcome of his tragic death is mostly positives, I do carry on life-long issues I wasn’t aware of until recently. My innocence of “happily-ever-after” has been forever raped. About three years ago, I started seeing Malcolm. It has been serious from the beginning, partly because an intuitive healer informed me, “a partnership that is destined for success is waiting in the wings, it’s a relationship like you’ve always dreamt” and also that the man’s name starts with “Ma,” he’s into fitness and health, he’s 6 foot 2 inches, dark haired, handsome, and he is a “senior” in life. At the time she told me this, I knew of Malcolm but did not know him personally. As predicted, he did bless my life soon after, he is everything she described, and it is the relationship of my dreams! He is continuously generous, loving, mature, and doesn’t think I’m crazy (maybe he does, but he’s kind enough to keep it to himself). I can’t imagine losing him, but life as we know it can instantly change, without a moment’s notice. I know an intuitive kinesiologist, who also lost her father, and she said, “Lea, you have to give Malcolm permission to leave this earth, and really know that you will survive, in order to release this fear.” I know I would survive, my mom did, I observed it first-hand, but I don’t want to survive. I’m just not ready to tell him he can leave and I will be okay. I need more time with him.
Self –worth is an important quality I hold towards myself. I know I deserve the best, everyone does, and they need to believe it. One of my favorite quotes goes like this: “…We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous. Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it’s in everyone…” This quality of self-love is so important, it is the major reason I switched my major from Exercise Science to Psychology. Watching other women go through tough situations with their significant other, I constantly see reoccurring trends of low self-worth. I have zero tolerance for this because everyone deserves the very best and that is the difference between me and the others. Their love for their partner overrides love for themselves. They may realize this, but they are not mature enough to change it. I want to help them. I want to provide the strength and wisdom it requires to love them self. I am also interested in relationships. I love to read the Mars and Venus series by Dr. John Gray. It’s amazing how men and women are both human but completely different. I believe relationships need work and have their times of difficulty but some relationships just aren’t meant to be. For example, when anger is felt more than love, or words of discouragement are said more than encouragement, or disappointments are met more than agreements, I don’t believe it’s a soul connection and meant to be. It’s not my place to say who is in a soul mate relationship or not, but I do want to help others seek and establish that amazing relationship that exists.
Finally, eight years later, I am a woman of great spirit after suffering such a tragedy. I found God amidst darkness and he still remains within me today. I cannot imagine who I would be without this loss, nor can I imagine who I will be after today. Everyday there is a chance to change, help others, or grow in wisdom. And through each experience a lesson is learned. Life has its pot holes, but no matter how deep or treacherous the road may be, everything happens for a reason. This is what allows me to accept what is given, thrown, or shattered before my eyes. “The sun sets and rises each day, and it’s the same with the avenues in your life. See the beauty within each sunset in your life. Endings are merely the start of a new beginning.” Thus, I no longer fear death. Instead, I welcome it with open arms.
