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Member: L/L Central
Location: Louisville, KY
Gender: Undisclosed
Interests: Gary Bean and Austin Bridges wear a lot of hats in attempting to meets the needs of the organization and the readership. Our weekly Blogworthy Report represents most of the diversity of our various honor/duties. In our work we have the added honor of collaborating with volunteers in the various projects and services that L/L Research offers. We love the Confederation philosophy, L/L Research, and the readership with all our hearts.


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My Sister, Noelle
Published by L/L Central on January 13, 2021 2:23am.  Category: Personal

 

Gary: This is an unusually personal entry for me.

 

When my inner alarm clock activated at 18 years old, awakening my spiritual seeking, and when I discovered the Law of One the following year, setting me on the journey I still walk today, my little sister, Noelle, seven years younger than me, was the one who could understand. Over the years she listened very non-judgmentally to me drone on about densities and wanderers, asking questions, being supportive, and sharing with me her spiritual aspirations. She would even later attend an L/L Homecoming in 2011 and make friends of my friends. I was was more bonded with her than my other siblings, Tessa and Adam. I felt that she was likely a wanderer, that we had a connection that transcended this lifetime.

 

When I moved away from home to live with Carla and Jim to pursue my own lights in 2003 - a perplexing departure from the perspective of those in my birth world - Noelle was heartbroken, but unlike the others she somehow understood. She and I remained close in the following years, adventuring together, introducing her to the Smokies, going on roadtrips, etc. We both planned and expected that Noelle would live near me in the not distant future. To this day I have a kitchen table, a microwave, and other home affects in my garage that I've held with the thought that Noelle could use them when she moves, such was the inevitability in my mind. It was just a matter of when it would happen.

 

But that project kept getting delayed. She struggled in difficult relationships and, unbeknownst to me, she struggled with an addiction to prescription pills. We drifted the past few years, not in heart but in preoccupation with our own lives and sources of catalyst.

 

I had had some awareness a few years back that both she and my other sister used. But by that point it was framed mostly in the past tense. There had been some turbulence in our family, but there was little outer drama - no rehabs, interventions, major disputes, separations, etc.

 

Then this year, news emerged that Noelle was using again. We all tried to talk with her, to offer support, but she gave us the illusion that everything was under control, that she was turning a corner, that she knew what she was doing, and that she was just too "embarrassed" to really talk about it. She kept up appearances and held down her job. But, her financial records coupled with later anecdotal information triangulated between her partner and my sister Tessa would reveal the devastating depths that she kept hidden from us.

 

In terms of the addiction itself, she never binged and she carefully controlled her amounts. But one horrible night, Noelle got hold of a fake pill. For various market-driven reasons, suppliers will mimic a Percocet pill with another, more cheaply and readily available drug called Fentanyl, which also happens to be more dangerous. Noelle unknowingly got a fentanyl pill, and her boyfriend, a soulmate she had known since high school, found her in their living room without a heart rate.

 

This was Saturday morning at 9am, two days after Thanksgiving and three days before her 33rd birthday. Just a few hours prior at 6am she had been messaging my siblings, me, and our spouses in her usual sunny and positive mood; her final message was about getting my mom a Christmas present. One plays the game with the minutes between six and nine a.m. in the torment of what might have happened had her boyfriend gone into the living room earlier, had Noelle used later, and so on.

 

Noelle's passing devastated my family. The pain compounded due to having no foreknowledge of what was coming. So sudden and unexpected, none had opportunity to say goodbye, to hold her, to be with her, to clarify our hearts. Then the layer of what ifs and could--we-have-done-something-differently... so many turns of cirumstance... questions that may never stop haunting my mom. I would have moved heaven and earth if I had known.

 

My mom is a strong, well-armored person, having endured a good deal of hardship in her single-pointed mission to raise her four kids. She lived for and through us. Her core identity, a mother. She and Noelle stayed very close. Many nights my mom stayed up for hours chatting with her "Welly," looking forward to the multiple visits Noelle would make to spend with her after my mom moved out west.

 

My dad, a much simpler person, adored Noelle. However, after a stroke and the onset of dementia, only in his mid-60s, he comprehends the loss and he cries, but the cards reshuffle and he's off in another loop of memory. Nearly every time I talk with him on the phone, he reads to me a poem from a card next a picture he has of her. Noelle had been helping to care for him in his now dependent state.

 

Her partner, a mutually acknowledged soulmate who lived right down the street from us growing up, they having met in high school and reconnected two years ago, had wanted to marry her and have kids, but the instability and the non-transparency of the addiction proved an insurmountable stumbling block for both of tehm. He has been launched into something of wilderness following the loss.

 

My brother Adam, and his wife Lori like a sister to Noell, lived close to Noelle the past couple years. They feel her absence intensely. The oldest of their two kids, Logan, a three-and-a-half year old blond-headed ball of energy and smiles would run excitedly to the window when Aunt Noelle would pull up, and still asks about her at night. Noelle adored both my brother's and my sister's kids and always had a blast playing with them. It pains us all that Logan probably won't remember his aunt as he grows.

 

My sister, Tessa, was due with her second child eight weeks from the day of Noelle's death. Tess had already decided to name her upcoming baby girl Brynn Noelle, and she had asked her baby's namesake to be the godmother. Noelle exploded with gratitude and tears. Noelle was already head over heels in love with Colton, Tessa's four-year old. Tess, who has been out West with my mom for a couple years, was chomping at the bit to move back to Ohio, eager to have Noelle be a daily part of her kids' lives.

 

My sisters were each other's best friends. They fought fiercely but loved each other intensely. My parents always said that they had Adam and me all over again but as girls. But unlike my brother and I, they played so much more together. And whereas Adam and I were absorbed in our video games, those two used their imagination inventing games and scenarios.

 

I love my family, and on top of my own grief, my heart breaks for their unique pain in losing that which cannot be retreived or replaced from the incarnate standpoint. Fortunately, they are strong in the open heart. We've been of mutual support to one another in a process that has brought us together in shared pain and immense loss.

 

Noelle was a very, very bright light. She was so awesome. She laughed at everything. Laughter was one of her ways of expressing love. It brightened everyone's mood, made people feel accepted. She loved everyone. She was so much more colorful than my dry personality. She never wasted an opportunity to dance like a goof, no matter who was watching. And so flipping creative too. She had poetry and artistry in her. I was blown away seeing the small glimpses that she would let express themselves. I always encouraged her to nurture and give those creative impulses space to grow, but she denied and buried her gifts underneath the intractable certainty that she wasn't worthy. She had dreams and hopes, of travel, of service, and most strongly, of motherhood. She would have made a beautiful mother. She treated her cats like her kids as it was. But there was always something in the way of her dreams. It is now clear in retrospect that she never fully faced or communicated her demons.

 

Noelle was in a lot of pain that stretched back years, but she didn't open up to us about it. She not infrequently ghosted us. And it gave me a lot of opportunity in the weeks following her death to drown in the depths of regret and remorse that I wasn't there to help her when she most needed it. I've never so yearned for a time machine, not just to rescue her from that moment, but to go back to childhood itself and do it all over. I don't want memories with my peer group, I want more memories with my sisters.

 

I didn't know. I know that an addict has to want help, but I nevertheless was saddled with the doubt that had I known more, had I invested more... instead there is the catalyst of the terrible sorrow that comes from becoming acutely, chokingly aware of all the missed opportunities for connection, opportunities that can never be gotten back in this life.

 

Though the light is becoming more apparent than the darkness, 41 years of life have not in all their sum produced tears in quantity as those that began when I received that horrible phone call. If you reading this take anything with you, let it be to reach out to your loved one and not let time slip from your hands.

 

Death is so final, thwarting the one thing the heart cries out for by slicing down an irreversible, impenetrable barrier. It then presents two stark choices: resistance and the consequent increase in pain, if not insanity; or acceptance, surrender, and the opening to the pathway to healing.

 

The result of intelligent planning and sensing maybe, I had begun reading the book Journey of Souls just a couple months prior. It was my first foray into attempting to understand the processes and experiences of life between life. Having firsthand accounts of death and the hereafter proved to be a light when the darkness encroached. As has a reading with a local intuitive who, in my subjective heart, was able to connect with Noelle's soul on the other side and relay information that was illuminating, clarifying, and healing, particularly as it highlighted a pathway of preincarnational planning at work. As has the bulwark of the Law of One in the knowledge that all is well, that there are no mistakes, and that nothing is lost. But the human side of me that is woven together with the threads of story, memory, emotion...

 

I have the big view. I know I will see her wandering soul again. I know I have traveled with Noelle in one capacity or another many times before and will many times again. But it sucks, this departure. We had no time to say goodbye, to tell her how eternally...

 

I love you Noelle. I will see you again, my dear sweet sister. And when at the doorway, I will go gladly.

 

 

Noelle with Eeyore

 

My brother Adam, sisters Tessa and Noelle, and in front of me, our dad

 

On our way to a kayaking adventure

 

At Trisha's and my wedding, the DJ didn't have Noelle's name to announce as the wedding party entered the reception. So she fist bumped her bouquet in the air chanting her own name, then did her funny weird dance on the dance floor

 

Breaking it down later that night. (If noticed, a sticker of Trish and me on her arm.)

 

In the wedding's procession.

 

Noelle reading a Q'uo quote at the ceremony that Trish and I wrote

 

Noelle and Tessa in our family's stylish Chevy Astro Van

 

The girls with dad

 

 

 

Noelle busting up with our nephew Logan

 

A concert I took Noelle to, she was lost in her groove

 

We're on the Ohio River to watch fireworks. Cropped out are Austin and Ken

 

One of her visits to Louisville

 

The four siblings

 

Me with my grown-up sister

 

Me with my new baby sister

 

Noelle and Tessa in flight, best friends from the beginning

 

My mother chose the name Noelle because she was born on December 1st. She arrived near Christmas and departed around the same time 33 years later, a gift to us all

 


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