Book Giveaway and Excerpt: WhatsApps from Heaven

Dear KOM-ers!

We’re so happy to feature a new book giveaway!

Please enjoy this excerpt from “WhatsApps from Heaven” by Louise Hamlin.

There are 2 ways to enter to win a FREE hard copy:

  1. Leave a comment below with your email address (so we can contact you)
  2. Email us at KOMWriting@gmail.com with the Subject: WhatsApps from Heaven giveaway entry

The winner will be randomly selected on 7/18/22 and announced on our website and social media. *

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This is a book about bereavement and also about the many extraordinary happenings and signs from the afterlife that then followed.

Louise talks about her personal experience of grief, in all its facets, and in a way that will resonate with readers who are bereaved. She also details, in careful and precise language, the succession of signs that she received, apparently from her husband after his death.

She describes how to start with she was very skeptical and looked for all sorts of other explanations, but eventually, she came to accept that the signs, including WhatsApps and dematerializations, must have come from her husband’s spirit in the afterlife. She explains how these signs have completely changed her understanding of life and death.

This book should bring comfort to the bereaved and will encourage those left behind to recognize signs that are sent to them by their loved ones.

Excerpt: Happiness

Maybe now is the time to talk about happiness.  It may seem strange to talk about happiness in a book on bereavement, but of course it is the absence of happiness that is one of the burdens of grief.  I can remember seeing a counsellor after Rob died.  I was distraught because his death had been long and painful, and my father had died just a few days before.  Life seemed bleak.  I felt totally alone in the world, which of course was not true, because I had my children and my friends, but the two deaths within twelve days of each other had heightened a feeling of abandonment which went back to my childhood.  I wept and told the counsellor that I feared I would never be happy again.   I will always remember her reply.  She said, “You will be happy again, but not for a while yet. It will take time.”  She was prescient.   Little did I know that the happiest years of my life were yet to come.  I met Patrick three years later, and embarked on a period of total happiness.

During my difficult times, I always tried to be positive, and see my glass as half full, not half empty.  I have a friend who persists in seeing everything through a glass half-empty prism.  Her marriage is not particularly affectionate, but she has other things in her life which are good, and by concentrating on the negative stuff, she is just permanently miserable.  It is such a waste.  I have always believed in the power of positive thinking, and it can make a huge difference, but, even so, it does not seem to be quite enough to bring happiness.

The problem is, I do not think that happiness is a free-standing emotion, like fear or grief, love or joy, or even enthusiasm.   Instead, I think that happiness rides on top of and depends on other independent emotions, in a sort of commensal relationship.  So you cannot chase happiness as an end in itself – if you do, it proves elusive, like a will o’ the wisp.  But if you seek fulfilment in your job or family or whatever, or if you seek joy in your garden, or contentment in your daily life, then happiness unexpectedly grows and envelops you.

In the most profound grief, happiness is a total irrelevance.  All that matters is what is not there. Everything is black.  But during the second year after Patrick died, I began to involve myself in life again, and surreptitiously happiness crept up and surprised me when I was busy doing or thinking about something else.  To start with, the moments were fleeting and I almost felt guilty for feeling happy, but gradually the moments grew longer and I felt more comfortable with the feeling.  Now, two years on, I would not claim to be happy all the time, nor would I claim that I am never unhappy, but I am more or less reconciled to what has happened, and I enjoy my life despite the loss of Patrick and despite the restraints of a continuing lockdown. I have learnt that happiness can return in the fullness of time even after the most devastating bereavement.

 

* By entering this contest, you give consent to Kind Over Matter to use your name for promotional purposes on our website and on all social media. 

NOTE: You can pre-order Louise’s book at Hunt Publishing or Amazon.

louise hamlin
Louise Hamlin read history and law at Cambridge and then practiced as a solicitor. After a career break to have her children, she returned to Cambridge as a law fellow and lecturer, specializing in land law. She was a Tutor and then Senior Tutor of her college. Fifteen years ago, she changed career and moved down to Dorset to start a very happy new life with her second husband, a barrister. She became a potter and she and her husband travelled extensively. When her husband suddenly died two years ago, Louise was grief-stricken and then amazed to find more and more signs from her husband, including the extraordinary WhatsApps, showing her that spirit and love survive death. This completely changed her understanding of life and death and she felt compelled to write a book giving an account of the signs, as well as dealing with bereavement generally. She now lives in Dorset with her spaniel.

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