I am immune to no one’s death and no one’s grief; all of it goes through me. One day I will tell the story of how I fought my way through bureaucratic barbed wire for the chance to touch my beautiful daughter before she was cremated. Yes, she was cremated. All of those decisions we had to make, not knowing what she would have wanted. How many healthy 29-year-olds have written their advance directives?
When the accident happened, I had not seen Corey in nearly a year, and our annual visit was coming up. I was not completely sure, given the state of shock I was in, that I wanted to touch Corey’s lifeless body, but I knew that there would never be another chance. It was the right thing to do, because I have looked back many, many times on that afternoon when my daughter Julia rode with me and the two of us saturated Corey’s body and the entire city of Santa Rosa in prayer and tears. The force of those prayers penetrated this world and the worlds beyond.
If I had not touched her and prayed and sung over her, I don’t think I could be one hundred percent positive that she is really not walking around somewhere. And so my prayers are set upon all who are forced to grieve without ever seeing the body of their loved one. I give thanks for all of the people who are working in their own towns and cities to remove bureaucratic obstacles that stand between grieving souls and their dearly departed.