Whispers of Roses: A Sign from Cory

Antigua, Guatemala, had always held a certain mystique, but today, something truly extraordinary happened.

It was the day I met my first cousin, Fernando, and his family for the very first time.

Though we had only just begun weaving together the fabric of our shared past, our connection felt instant, as if time had merely paused, waiting for us to reunite.

As evening settled around us, we gathered at the dining room table, savoring the warmth of newfound family.

Fernando stood up and stepped toward the back door, opening it to the night.

The moment he did, a powerful scent of roses flooded the room—rich, undeniable, and completely unexpected.

“I smell roses,” Esmeralda, Fernando’s wife, remarked, her voice tinged with surprise.

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Bethany, curious, asked, “What does that mean?”

Esmeralda’s expression grew thoughtful. “It often signifies the presence of God… or a loved one who has passed.” She paused. “I haven’t smelled this scent in twenty years.”

Intrigued, we followed the fragrance to the back patio.

The scent was even stronger there, hanging in the air like an invisible embrace.

We each took turns breathing it in, marveling at its intensity.

Then, with quiet certainty, Esmeralda turned to me.

“You should go out there alone,” she said gently. “I feel like Cory wants to be with you.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

I stepped forward, alone now, letting the night envelop me.

The scent swirled around me, wrapping me in something deeper than memory—a presence, a whisper of love that transcended time.

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of the moment. Cory was here.

The next morning, Esmeralda pulled me aside, her eyes wide with wonder.

“I need to tell you something,” she said. “I had a dream the night before this happened.”

I listened, my heart pounding.

“In my dream, Cory walked through the back door. He came to each of us at the table, standing quietly behind us, then walked back outside onto the patio.”

She exhaled, shaking her head. “It was exactly what happened. I just… I just didn’t realize it until now.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes.

The scent of roses, the lingering presence, the dream—it all fit together like a divine puzzle, a message sent across the veil.

Later, I came across an article explaining the connection between roses and angels.

It spoke of how roses hold the highest vibrational frequency of any flower—320 megahertz of electrical energy.

Angels, it said, are drawn to that energy, using the scent as a sign of their presence.

Perhaps that’s why Cory had chosen roses. Perhaps it was his way of telling me he was still near.

And I believe he was.

________________________________

Join Our Free Support Group for Bereaved Parents

You are not alone. I invite you to join our free support group, where you can connect with other bereaved parents who understand your pain. Together, we can foster healing, share resources, and create a supportive community.

Click HERE to sign up.

_________________________________

In addition, I’ve developed a comprehensive support document filled with valuable information to assist you as you navigate this healing process. You can access Healing Hearts Support Document HERE.

___________________________________

Today, ten years after Cory’s passing, I want to offer others what I wished had been available to me. I have developed a one-on-one support offering to assist bereaved parents in their healing journey and to help them connect with their departed child.

If this resonates with you, let’s have a chat to explore whether this is the right fit for you.

Learn more and connect with me HERE.

 Subscribe to this blog by clicking on this link:  

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6 Ways to Heal After Losing a Child

Losing a child is one of the most profound and heartbreaking experiences a person can endure. The overwhelming waves of grief can consume every part of life, making it difficult to function or see a way forward.

When my son Cory passed away in 2014, I embarked on a journey of healing, guided by his presence and wisdom. Along the way, I discovered six powerful ways to navigate grief, and I hope they provide comfort and support to you.

1. Be Still

In our fast-paced world, staying busy is often seen as a coping mechanism. However, the most crucial step toward healing is embracing stillness.

After Cory passed, I couldn’t fathom how others could return to their normal routines so quickly. My life came to a complete halt, and I had to learn to sit in the silence, allowing myself to simply be.

You might think, But I can’t be still!—but you can. Try it. Stillness calms the nervous system, allowing you to process emotions rather than suppress them.

In the early years of grief, I noticed I was forgetting simple things—even names I should have remembered. At first, it troubled me, but I realized my body needed my energy to focus entirely on healing. When enduring such deep trauma, the mind prioritizes emotional survival over short-term memory. Conserving your energy for healing is why it’s so important to simplify and be more still.

Through that exploration into being, I discovered that stillness speaks an exquisite language. As I embraced it, I began to hear the quiet voice of my inner wisdom guiding me toward peace.

I developed a stillness practice, AKA meditation, which became my lifeline and remains the most transformative practice of my life. I simply set a meditation timer for 10 minutes every day and sat still in a chair.

Over time, as 10 minutes became easy, I gradually added more time to my practice.

In that time of stillness, I learned to allow all of my thoughts and feelings come and go and to observe myself. I had no agenda about trying not to think. I was just naturally allowing my nervous system to unwind, so I could sense my true essence underneath all the loud voices. That presence is Love.

2. Allow Yourself to Feel

Many of us have been conditioned to suppress our emotions, fearing that others may be uncomfortable with our sadness. But resisting grief only prolongs suffering.

When Cory died, I made a conscious decision to fully feel my emotions. I allowed myself to cry—without judgment, without filtering, and without shame. It felt like an internal cleansing, washing away pain with every tear.

Water holds memory. When we cry, we are literally releasing stored grief and emotional toxins. The pain isn’t in the sadness itself, but in our resistance to it.

Give yourself permission to feel everything. It’s like opening a pressure valve, releasing the emotions that have been buried inside.

3. Be Empathetic with Yourself

While sympathy means feeling sorry for someone, empathy is the ability to truly understand and share another’s emotions. Many of us extend empathy to others but struggle to offer it to ourselves.

One of the most powerful tools in my healing journey is audio journaling. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I record myself on my phone’s voice memos. I let everything out—ranting, crying, expressing anger or frustration—completely unfiltered. Then, I listen to it.

This practice allows my Higher Self to listen with compassion, offering my grieving self a space to be heard and understood. It’s like becoming your own therapist, providing validation and healing in real-time.

I encourage you to try it. You might be surprised at how comforting it is to hear your own voice expressing what your heart has been holding and suppressing for so long.

4. Pamper and Ground Yourself

Grieving is exhausting, both emotionally and physically. This is a time to treat yourself with extraordinary care and gentleness.

Make a list of activities that bring you peace and relaxation. For me, art and dance have been deeply restorative. Creating and moving my body helps release stagnant grief and brings moments of joy.

As parents, we often put ourselves last. But self-care isn’t selfish—it’s essential. Prioritize activities that nurture you:

  • Massage and pedicures – physical touch is deeply healing.

  • Walking in nature – especially barefoot, to reconnect with the earth.

  • Napping when needed – grief takes an immense toll on your energy.

  • Swimming or being near water – allowing its natural cleansing properties to soothe your spirit.

I live in Austin, Texas where we have Barton Springs pool, a unique spring-fed pool on three acres, which were originally old Native American healing grounds. When I get in the water, I tell the water everything and let her take away anything that is no longer serving me.

Remember, your healing journey is a marathon, not a sprint. Take the time to nurture yourself as you navigate this path.

5. Find Ways to Share Your Grief

Grief can feel isolating, but you don’t have to go through it alone. Seek out friends, support groups, or therapists who provide a safe space to express your emotions.

For me, writing became a vital outlet. I openly shared my journey on social media, keeping Cory’s memory alive. At first, people avoided mentioning him, fearing it would upset me. But I wanted to talk about him. Speaking about our loved ones is a way to honor them, not a reminder of loss.

If your family isn’t comfortable discussing grief, redirect your energy to those who are. You were never meant to bear this burden alone.

6. Celebrate Their Life

Your child’s life is worth celebrating. You are worth celebrating. The love you shared is eternal, and honoring that love is a crucial part of healing.

Grief isn’t just about pain—it’s about love that has nowhere to go. Redirect that love into joyful remembrance.

  • Look through pictures and videos to relive beautiful memories.

  • Talk to your child in spirit and acknowledge their presence.

  • Recognize that although their physical body is gone, they still exist in another realm—filled with love and joy.

  • Celebrate their birthdays and passing anniversaries in meaningful ways.

Every year, I honor Cory by planting trees, publishing books or hosting gatherings. These acts of remembrance keep his spirit alive and allow me to transform grief into something meaningful.

Before long, you’ll start to feel moments of lightness, clarity, and even joy. That’s when you begin to uncover the hidden gifts within grief—deeper love, treasured memories, and newfound purpose.

This is my hope and wish for you, dear friend.

________________________________

Join Our Free Support Group for Bereaved Parents

You are not alone. I invite you to join our free support group, where you can connect with other bereaved parents who understand your pain. Together, we can foster healing, share resources, and create a supportive community.

Click HERE to sign up.

_________________________________

In addition, I’ve developed a comprehensive support document filled with valuable information to assist you as you navigate this healing process. You can access Healing Hearts Support Document HERE.

___________________________________

Today, ten years after Cory’s passing, I want to offer others what I wished had been available to me. I have developed a one-on-one support offering to assist bereaved parents in their healing journey and to help them connect with their departed child.

If this resonates with you, let’s have a chat to explore whether this is the right fit for you.

Learn more and connect with me HERE.

 Subscribe to this blog by clicking on this link:  

Reflections on a Mother’s Love for Her Son

In 2014, my son, Cory Roussel, passed from this life into the next, leaving an unfillable void in our hearts and plunging our family into a new existence shaped by grief and longing.

 Yet, even in the depths of sorrow, I am reminded of the boundless love we shared, a love that neither time nor loss can ever erase.

 One of the most powerful expressions of this love unfolded during a chapter of Cory’s life that was marked by struggle and transformation.

 He had been incarcerated in downtown San Diego after his probation was revoked due to a charge of transporting an illegal immigrant across the border.

 It was a time that could have easily consumed him, but instead, it became a period of remarkable change—one that reshaped both him and me in ways I could never have foreseen.

 Before his return to prison, Cory carried a heavy burden—anger, frustration, and deep-seated resentment toward a probation system he believed had failed him.

 These emotions clouded his world, casting a shadow over our interactions.

 The weight of his pain was evident, and as his mother, I grieved for the son I longed to reach but often felt powerless to comfort.

 Then, something extraordinary happened.

 Just before his probation was revoked, Cory experienced what can only be described as a supernatural awakening—an unshakable courage to forgive.

 It was as if a Divine light had pierced through the darkness, granting him the ability to release the hatred he had carried for so long.

 With that release came an inner peace, a newfound purpose.

 He embarked on his prison sentence not as a man imprisoned by his circumstances, but as one liberated by grace.

 During his time behind bars, Cory wrote letters—countless letters—to friends, family, and even strangers, sharing the freedom he had found within himself.

 It was as if, in losing his physical freedom, he had gained something far greater—a soul untethered by resentment, a heart wide open to love.

 His words turned my world upside down, forcing me to see life through a new lens, one of forgiveness and unshakable faith.

 Eight months into his sentence, my birthday approached.

 I knew exactly what I wanted—a chance to be with my son.

 Because of strict prison regulations, I was granted only two brief visits, two hours each, on consecutive days.

 When Friday arrived, I made my way to the high-rise prison in downtown San Diego, my heart pounding with anticipation.

 Upon entering the visitation room, I was allowed to embrace him once—just one fleeting moment of contact before we were seated across from each other in cold white plastic chairs, separated by an invisible yet palpable barrier.

 But then, he locked eyes with mine.

 For two hours, Cory held my gaze with an intensity I had never known before.

 There, in the sterile confines of a prison visitation room, my son allowed me to see him—not just the man he was in that moment, but his truest self.

 He had stripped away all pretense, all pain, all fear.

 What remained was pure, unfiltered love radiating from his eyes, a love so fierce and unwavering it took my breath away.

 It was a revelation of Love.

On Sunday, unable to visit him in person, Cory made a simple yet profound request.

 He told me to go to the park across the street from the prison at precisely three o’clock.

 From his cell on the fifteenth floor, he would stand at the window, and I was to look up.

 As I prepared to go, I wanted to find a way to send him a message—a tangible symbol of my love.

 I thought about making a sign, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to read it from such a distance.

 Then an idea struck me. I tore a large heart out of aluminum foil, its reflective surface shimmering in the light.

 At exactly three o’clock, I stood in the park, heart pounding, eyes squinting against the bright sky as I searched for him.

 And then—I saw him.

 Fifteen stories above me, behind a thick pane of glass, was my son, waving wildly, his arms flailing with joyful abandon.

 In his hands, he held a mirror, tilting it back and forth, catching the sunlight and sending brilliant flashes of light down to where I stood.

 I held my foil heart high, letting it glisten in the afternoon sun, reflecting my love back to him.

 For fifteen minutes, we stood there—mother and son—separated by distance, by walls, by circumstance, yet connected in a way that transcended it all.

 He sent his light to me; I sent mine to him.

 In that moment, nothing else existed.

 No prison bars, no past regrets, no sorrow—only Love.

 Pure, boundless, eternal love.

 That day changed me.

 Cory’s love transformed me, just as it transformed him.

 Even now, though he is no longer in this world, his light continues to shine within me, guiding me forward.

 I love you, Cory. Always.

________________________________

Join Our Free Support Group for Bereaved Parents

You are not alone. I invite you to join our free support group, where you can connect with other bereaved parents who understand your pain. Together, we can foster healing, share resources, and create a supportive community.

Click HERE to sign up.

_________________________________

In addition, I’ve developed a comprehensive support document filled with valuable information to assist you as you navigate this healing process. You can access Healing Hearts Support Document HERE.

___________________________________

Today, ten years after Cory’s passing, I want to offer others what I wished had been available to me. I have developed a one-on-one support offering to assist bereaved parents in their healing journey and to help them connect with their departed child.

If this resonates with you, let’s have a chat to explore whether this is the right fit for you.

Learn more and connect with me HERE.

I am here to serve you with compassion and understanding.

Subscribe to this blog by clicking the link below:

Cory’s Hammock: A Journey Through Grief and Love

Acceptance comes in stages, and my journey through grief has been a winding path, filled with unexpected moments of joy and sorrow.

When my son Cory passed away, I found myself thrust into the depths of despair.

Yet, in the midst of this profound trauma, I discovered the gift of acceptance—though it was only the beginning.

One pivotal experience on this journey was centered around Cory’s beloved hammock.

During his last year with us, Cory had invested in a camping hammock, a vibrant piece of fabric that became his sanctuary—a place to relax, unwind, and connect with nature.

I remember vividly the day he called me while lounging in it, suspended beneath a bridge, twenty feet above the shimmering water.

The sound of laughter danced in his voice as he shared his adventurous spirit with me.

But that laughter was abruptly interrupted by the distant blare of a foghorn.

“I’ve got to call you back,” he said, his tone shifting.

Moments later, I learned that the police had spotted him and were warning him about the dangers of his precarious perch.

Later that week, he stumbled upon a sign announcing the prohibition of hammocks along the bridge.

Curious, he approached a nearby officer and inquired about it.

“There was this crazy guy hanging under the bridge last week. We can’t have people doing that. It’s dangerous,” the officer replied, shaking his head.

With a twinkle in his eye, Cory simply smiled and said, “That crazy guy was me!”

Beyond his escapades, Cory cherished that hammock for its comforting embrace while camping in the Greenbelt of Austin.

After he transitioned, I felt an overwhelming urge to reclaim a piece of him.

I hung the hammock in my backyard, eager to feel his spirit enveloping me, a part of my healing process.

As time passed, we built a swing from one of the trees where the hammock rested.

In our enthusiasm, we took down one end of the hammock to make room for the swing, leaving it to languish on the ground for several months.

One day, I decided to rehang it, only to find it riddled with holes, devoured by bugs.

My heart sank; the sight of the once-vibrant fabric now tattered, filled me with disappointment.

Coincidentally, a dear friend visiting from out of town offered to help.

She suggested sewing patches over the holes, using fabric from a polyester bodysuit that Cory had cherished.

As she took the hammock with her, she carried not just the fabric but also stories of Cory, sharing anecdotes with everyone she encountered while meticulously stitching patches.

A few weeks later, a package arrived at my doorstep.

Inside was the beautifully repaired hammock, accompanied by a poignant poem entitled “Patching Holes in a Universe.”

“Patching Holes in a Universe.”

By Jitana Alba

 Where a seemingly quaint little mend project

Illustrates the concepts of worlds

Weave from a single thread

Needle in hand

I’ve spent lifetimes as

a heart surgeon

a deep sea diver

a modest handyman

a conductor of a symphony

Playing the stories of varied

wondrous souls

Manifest as ever morphing

Collections of matter     air     fire

Common conclusions have drawn

Times deciding within a human

set of constructions

Patching the Universe

            impassive     improbable

                        just plain silly

Yet, who would I be to deem the worth

Of any great mysterious task

            present to this awareness

Which may indeed involve

            aspects of this self yet undiscovered

Intricately woven into the wrinkles

Of a time I have yet to know

with a logical linear mind
I dare not constrain

the exquisiteness

Opportunity to play and dance

as Divinity with all things

To hear a perfect picture

            as a partial part

of pure presence

Work is progress

            done and undone

                        in every moment

Invite to imagine

            imagination as iteration

Of innumerable realities

            inclined to inspire fruition

Patching holes in a universe

            energy ignites in passion

                        for pure poetic purpose

                                    in perfect placement

¡Voila!

My heart swelled with gratitude as I visualized the love and effort woven into each patch.

That evening, I headed to a nearby lake, excitement bubbling within me as I prepared to hang the hammock at sunset.

As I wrapped the cord around the tree trunks, anticipation coursed through my veins.

Finally, I plopped down into the hammock—only to hear a resounding “kerplunk!” as I fell straight to the ground!

I hadn’t realized that it wasn’t just the holes that had caused the issue; the entire hammock was dry-rotted!

In that moment of unexpected hilarity, I found solace.

The laughter mingled with my tears, reminding me that acceptance doesn’t mean letting go of the past; it means finding joy in the memories, even when they come wrapped in absurdity.

The hammock may have been beyond repair, but the love it symbolized remained intact.

It became a comical reminder of my journey through grief—a journey that, though painful, had moments of lightness and connection, leading me closer to acceptance of Cory's absence and the beautiful memories we shared.

_____________________________________

 Join Our Free Support Group for Bereaved Parents

You are not alone. I invite you to join our free support group, where you can connect with other bereaved parents who understand your pain. Together, we can foster healing, share resources, and create a supportive community.

Click HERE to sign up.

_________________________________

In addition, I’ve developed a comprehensive support document filled with valuable information to assist you as you navigate this healing process. You can access Healing Hearts Support Document HERE.

___________________________________

Today, ten years after Cory’s passing, I want to offer others what I wished had been available to me. I have developed a one-on-one support offering to assist bereaved parents in their healing journey and to help them connect with their departed child.

If this resonates with you, let’s have a chat to explore whether this is the right fit for you.

Learn more and connect with me HERE.

I am here to serve you with compassion and understanding.

Subscribe to this blog by clicking the link below: