Surviving the Worst That Can Happen, Loss of a Child

Surviving the Worst That Can Happen

Steps to Healing after the Loss of a Child




My beautiful boy, Garrett. He was at the top of his game when suddenly, on December 19th many years ago he died of bacterial meningitis. 

On this day, I am grateful to my son for giving me the gift of insight and the gift of life. 

My life. 

In his loss, I learned how to be resilient, how to love harder, and how to appreciate every moment, every touch, every emotion I have in lifeIt's every parent's worst nightmare, yet I have survived the worst that can happen; the tragic, untimely, unthinkable loss of a child.  


But on this day, my heart goes out to my friend Robert, and my friend Charles who both lost their daughters just a few short weeks ago. 


To you and other families who experience such tragic loss, I offer you hope and a promise that you will reclaim a quality of life you can live with.  You will learn your life has deeper meaning because it's the beginning of a search for why we exist, why we die, and most of all why we love. 



I heard someone say, grief is not a life sentence, it's a life passage. It's the one common human experience that we will all have at one time or another in our lives. But we didn't expect it to be the death of my child, or your child, did we.

In the years following my son's death, I was surprised to discover, no matter how great my loss, or how deep my grief, the world doesn't stop. In fact, it intensifies, and I had to learn how to embrace such a huge awareness for the unexpected. I didn't know on December 18th so many years ago, when I kissed my son goodnight it would be my last kiss to my beautiful alive boy.


I've learned so much through the grief storm that followed.  I know I'm stronger, I know I'm a more loving and compassionate person, and I never, ever take a single day for granted. Ever. 


My heart aches for you Robert and Charles and those who are suffering loss. It's not easy, but

here's what I want you to consider:

1. Cry deeply now because someday you will miss those tears that come from the deepest part of your soul. The part that no man or circumstance can take from you...the part that created that child with your love.

2. Allow others to do things for you. Don't try to be brave. This is a time people want to help. Let them make your dinner, pick up your dry cleaning, and sort through your mail. In your loss, you are giving them meaning and purpose.

3.Talk about your child to those who will listen. Those are the memories and stories that will be a part of forming your new relationship with your child...one that will last forever. 


4. Forgive those who don't know what to say or say the wrong thing. They are trying to help and want so desperately to ease your pain.

5. Know that one day you will be able to control your grief instead of it controlling you. It will never go away, but the time in between where life seems okay will get longer. 


Life has taught me that things don't always happen the way we planned. After losing Garrett I thought my heart would never heal, but it did.

My Baby Boy

I've worked the steps of grief over the years and arrived at the other side. I now have a soft gentle agreement with God that I have indeed found acceptance and opened a space in my heart for joy.

My son died on December 19th so many years ago, and yet I see now, it was the beginning of my new life... learning how to live with the loss. I had to honor his life and his death by healing.


And I have done just that. Sadness no longer defines me. I realized I had the power within me to compartmentalize the sadness. I can still cry when I want to, but it doesn't feel out of control. Instead, there's a harmonious comfort to it as my heart connects with the sweet ballad of his memories. I am able to look at the life of my son and marvel at the 16 years, 3 months, and 10 days I had with him. His life was such a gift, and so were the lessons learned from his death.  


I've learned that love never dies. It's the most important human experience there is. It's a privilege and a commitment and not always easy. I've learned that being a mother is a gift, even when you have them for just a short while.


I suffered the greatest tragedy a mother could imagine and I survived. 


And so will you.


Robert, Charles and other families suffering from such a devastating loss, your beautiful children died but know that you will resurrect your life from the shadows of sadness and find acceptance and peace one day.   

I know it seems impossible now, but you will begin to reclaim joy and feel happiness again one step at a time... and you will survive... I promise.


Navigating loss is not an easy journey, but you are on the path to healing now. This is your story of triumph, even with all the bumps, and turns, and falls. You have no choice but to walk the stepping stones of grief, because you owe it to your child to heal. 

And you will.

With love and prayers, Sandy


If you or someone you know is struggling with the tragic loss of a child, please consider my book titled "How to Survive the Worst that can Happen…A Parent's Step by Step Guide to Healing After Losing a Child." Forward Written by Melissa Gilbert. Released in February, 2014 by Balboa Press, A Division of Hay House. Here's the link on Amazon "How to Survive the Worst That Can Happen" and the link on Balboa Press and Barnes and Noble.

Miracles Really Happen




Learning How to Invite Miracles into Your Life
©Sandy Peckinpah
“If you lose your expectation, you lose your potential for a miracle.”
-Bishop T.D. Jakes, Pastor of The Potter’s House Church



I was raised in the Presbyterian Church, and yet I am not sure what I really believed about heaven. I never had to know. I know for sure, I believed if I was a good girl, nothing bad would ever happen.




I was so very young when I formed my vision of Heaven. It was the great unknown city above the clouds where God lived. My Grandma told me God greeted all the people who die at the Pearly Gates of Heaven. And, my Grandma’s name was Pearl, so I thought she must have been someone really special.

Then she died, and I felt like there was so much more I needed to know from her and now, I could never ask. Like, how she made her applesauce and why did she want me to read the Bible? I pictured her arriving at her gates…the Pearly Gates, and everyone would know her because she was Pearl.


The image of heaven I had created as a little girl, followed me as I grew into a woman, a wife, and then a mother. When my beautiful boy died suddenly of bacterial meningitis, the surreal image of the Pearly Gates didn’t matter because all of my beliefs were thrown into chaos. I asked, “How can I know if there’s a God? Where is heaven?” I demanded. “Is there really an afterlife? Is my Grandma there?”


These are all questions we, as intelligent adults may have at different times in our lives, but never was it more profound than when my child died. My beautiful beloved 16-year old son, Garrett was missing from this earth and I wanted to know why.

Was I angry with God? You bet. How could He have allowed this to happen to me? I did everything right and yet I lost my child! A child! How could that have happened to such a “good girl?”

The truth is, why not me? Others have lost children and they were “good girls” too.

I realized my perceived belief system collided with real human experience.
We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience. -Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, French Philosopher and Jesuit Priest

In this story I will be sharing with you a truly remarkable miracle that changed my life forever, but at this point in time, I had just lost my beautiful son and I was forced to re-examine my faith. 

Step One: Did I believe in God? Yes.

Step Two: Was I open to the possibility that God exists and has a plan for my life? Yes.

Step Three: Was I willing to acknowledge that sometimes the human experience involves getting sick, sometimes dying, or having a tragic accident? Yes., reluctantly.

Step Four: Am I able to survive such tragic loss? I didn’t think so, but, yes, yes, and yes, because at that point in my life, it wasn’t about me, I would just as soon die than feel the pain. But this was about love. Love for my husband and my living children. 

And so… I chose to be open to and believe in the possibility that there really is something above those clouds called heaven. A place where my beautiful boy crossed through the Pearlie Gates and met his Grandma Pearl for the very first time and felt the comfort of her soft squishy embrace.

Faith was all I had. When you lose your child, you absolutely have to implement faith as a lifeline. I couldn’t do it alone. I questioned God and Heaven and Creation , but if I believed in nothing, I was lost.

The “knowing” that there is a God, goes beyond intellect. As a mother, I could look at the miracle that was created inside of me.  Together with my husband, we created a child. Is that a miracle explained simply by chance?

Sometimes we think…give me a sign. But isn’t a child being born, sign enough that there is something much greater than we can ever fathom?

Science can tell you the story of how it happened, but how does it happen that the body is formed from one chance moment in time, where tiny cells meet and become human. Those little cells joyfully joined together and gave me a child. And that is a miracle.

Just as birth is a miracle, so is death. Just as you know someone is in the next room, even though he’s not with you; God is present. And so is my child. We are all made of energy, and energy never dies.
On the Friday before my first Mother’s Day without my child, my heart was heavy with grief.

I picked up my young children from school and headed to Gelson’s for groceries. I wanted to prepare a dinner that would involve a lot of “doing” in order to numb myself from the pain.  I decided on Fresh Vegetable Pasta. It involved lots of chopping, grilling and sautéing.

As we perused the grocery aisles, the kids were throwing things into the basket, and I was blind to it. One bag of groceries turned into six, but I didn’t care.

A young man (who was a friend of my son) carefully bagged the groceries, and offered to take them out to the car. As we walked, I asked him about his college plans. He talked about the entertainment industry. As he closed the trunk, I slipped him a tip and thanked him. I watched him walk away with his dreams intact. He was alive. His parents could watch him become a man. I was embarrassed to feel such awe followed by anger.

“I have to make a stop, before we go home.” The children heard my voice tremble, and it made them quiet during the ride.

I pulled into the cemetery at dusk. I slowly drove the familiar road through the grounds. I noticed lots of new flowers at some of the plots. Must be for all the Moms, I thought.
I parked.

“Why don’t you start your homework in the car? I’ll be right back. I opened the trunk and pulled out the basket, fully stocked at all times with paper towels, marble cleaner, a scrubbing brush, plant shears, and a spray bottle of water. 

It was a familiar ritual I’d begun as soon as Garrett was buried. I was robbed of the years ahead tending to folding his clothes, straightening his room, and picking up dirty socks. I transferred my duties to keeping his gravesite impeccable.

Every day, I brought my basket to snip, scrub, and clean his “new room.” It gave me time to talk to him, alone, and to care for him.

As I approached the grave, I could feel my teary eyes stinging against the cool night breeze. I threw my basket down and fell to my knees in front of Garrett’s stone and began to cry.

“Mother’s Day is coming Garrett, and you’re not here, dammit! I’m so angry with you for leaving me! I don’t know how to do this.”

I tried to keep my body straight so the children wouldn’t see how distraught I was. But sometimes I was just exhausted from having to be so strong.

I sprayed water onto the stone and used the brush to scrub the letters of his name. I wiped it clean, then polished. The strands of grass were still neat and tidy from yesterday’s visit.

“Please Garrett, please let me know you’re with me. I gave life to you! Tell me, you’re here, tell me…” I cried, hoping for a magical response. I waited, none came.

I shifted to see the children watching me from the car. Call to duty. Straighten up. Be your best for them. I packed up my tools. I kissed my fingers and touched his stone, stood up and walked back stoically.

We got home to a dark house. I flicked on the kitchen lights and saw the message button flashing on the answering machine. I pushed it. My husband’s voice played, “Hi Sandy, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Go ahead and feed the kids. Love you.”

Damn, a nice family dinner was supposed to heal the wounds of today. I abandoned my plans for the pasta and decided on tacos. I had everything left over from the night before.

Trevor came into the kitchen, “ I’m hungry, now.”

“I’m fixing dinner as fast as I can, sweetie.”

“But I’m hungry, now. Can’t I just have a popsicle?”

 “No Trevor, I’m fixing tacos.”

Tacos? He protested,  “We had those last night.”

Julianne came bounding in. I sat Jackson in the high chair and handed him a fistful of Cheerios. Patience.

“I have a good idea. Both of you. Go clean your rooms! Now! They’re a mess! When you’re done, dinner will be ready.” They retreated meekly to their rooms.

Sandy…Patience. I began to pull out everything for tacos. I poured oil into a frying pan and waited for it to sizzle. Silly. I could have bought the pre-made crispy tacos, they wouldn’t have cared. Garrett would have, though. He was always my picky eater. Garrett…Mother’s Day…empty….my thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Mom….Mom…” I lifted myself from the daze to see Trevor beside me. He was clutching a hand made card. I looked at him and touched his face. “I’m sorry, honey, I’m just really missing your brother right now.”

“Mom…” holding the card, his hand began to tremble. “I found this stuck behind the desk drawer when I was cleaning it out.”

Trevor had asked for Garrett’s old desk. We moved it into Trevor’s room a few days before.
I took the card from his hand. It was Garrett’s handwriting.
“What is this, honey?” I asked. I began to read it aloud:
”Mom! Happy Mother’s Day!” 
I looked at Trevor, dumbfounded. I opened the card Garrett had written and read:
Mom, you are a very special person-you really are.
Who else could write 2 books and raise 4 kids at the same time?!
A big heart is needed to do both of those things,
And a big heart is what you have.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom
I love you very much,
Love, Garrett

Trevor said in disbelief, “He must have written it before he died, Mom.”

“But he died at Christmas! “ I said in awe. A feeling of peace filled all those empty places in my soul. Garrett heard me, he’s truly here.

“Trevor, thank you for finding this, you’ve given me a wonderful gift.” Trevor smiled so sweetly. I hugged him

“I love your tacos, Mom,” he said sheepishly.
Julianne joined in. “Me too! I could eat them every night!”

My husband opened the door…. Hey family! What’s for dinner?"

"Tacos!” they all replied.

“Good,” David said, “I love tacos.”

The grilled vegetable pasta would be just fine for tomorrow.

Miracles are postcards from heaven, and I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt, there is, in fact, a place above the clouds where my beloved child entered through the Pearly Gates, and he wants me to know, “Mom, it’s beautiful there.”

Build faith by opening your mind and your heart to miracles. You may have them in the form of dreams, nature, even a song on the radio.

The Zen Buddhist Monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, says death is like a cloud in the sky. When it disappears, it doesn’t mean the cloud has died. The cloud continues in another form like rain or snow.
If you look up to the sky and the cloud is no longer there, the sky is just showing you a new way of looking at the cloud. Don’t be sad, the cloud is now rain that waters your garden.

So now you must plant a garden and watch the flowers grow. When you see the flowers in full bloom, you gather them and make a bouquet for your kitchen table. The next day you can photograph them or paint them. Frame your photograph or painting and hang it on your wall and know that every time you look at it, it will remind you of the beauty of your child in a new form.

Do you see how you are the creator of your future, now? Miracles will begin coming your way when you commit to faith and start to believe they are possible. These exercises will pave the way.


  • Invite miracles into your life. When they happen, be grateful and say a prayer of thanks. Then invite more miracles to arrive.
  • In a quiet room, close your eyes and visualize someone you’ve lost, even a beloved pet. Tears may fall from your eyes, but that’s okay. Those are tears of connection.
  • Now ask your beloved to give you a gift, a miracle.
  • Stay with the picture in your mind, and tell them you will be fine. Tell them tears are not a storm of sadness, but a shower of love. 
  • Ask them to visit in your dreams.
  • Now say goodbye and open your eyes.
  • In your workbook/journal, document this day.
  • Always write down your miracles and express gratitude. Even as small as finding a “penny from heaven.” They will begin to multiply.
  • Throughout the days ahead, start noticing things like rainbows, stones, birds, and things that represent your loved one. 
My son used to pick a single white rose for me on the way home from school. Whenever I see a single white rose, I think, Garrett? Is that you? And somehow the rose seems to open out to me and in its beauty says...“I love you, Mom.” 

And that is the power of a miracle.

Best wishes and Love,





For more blogs and information, please sign up on my website! www.SandyPeckinpah.com

Sandy Peckinpah writes and speaks on finding happiness, surviving loss and activating resilience. Her new award winning book entitled, "How to Survive the Worst that Can Happen" is a parent's step by step guide for healing after the loss of a child, based on her own experience of losing her 16 year old son. She coaches women on finding the next chapter of their lives and is also a Certified Grief Recovery Specialist® with the Grief Recovery Institute® in Los Angeles. 


Website and programs offered: SandyPeckinpah.com    

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Enchanted Love, How The Act of Forgiveness Can be the First Step in Returning to Love


Enchanted Love
Love Doesn’t Always Come Just Once in a Lifetime…
How the act of forgiveness can be the first step in returning to Love
  Sandy Peckinpah

“Grilling some eggplant...I’ve been thinking about pesto, prosciutto, Roma tomatoes, grilled eggplant and toasted sourdough bread all day. The Panini maker is coming out of the cupboard and hallelujah! Can't decide on the cheese, though... Any suggestions?”

 That “status update” went out to my circle of friends on Facebook. It ignited a conversation, and little did I know then, my grilled Italian sandwich was about to change my life, forever. I stared at the computer and read a response, “you are killing me! 

What? Who is Jim?   

That was in 2010. Facebook was new to me and I quickly created a new community of friends gathered together from my past, my present…and little did I know, my future.

It had been 10 years since my divorce. I thought I had enchanted love. My husband and I had four children and a successful show business life, but our love couldn’t survive the worst that could happen. Our sweet wonderful 16-year old boy died suddenly of bacterial meningitis.

What followed was grief and despair followed by a separation in love and commitment, and suddenly,  I was no longer the love of his life.

David’s career as a writer-producer spiraled down shortly after our divorce. His sci-fi show “Sliders” got canceled and his contract with Universal Studios ended. He was at the end of his finances and could no longer support me, or the children.

At that point, I discovered there’s a thin line between love and hate, and both are driven by passion. I was angry with him for leaving us, for not supporting us, for letting the career that we built for 25 years, fall apartI never wanted to see him again.

By April of 2006, I had created a whole new life. I moved out of Los Angeles with my children and started a real estate career in the quiet little town of Murrieta. I didn’t need David financially; I was proving to myself that I could do it on my own. As odd as it seemed, it was then I began missing him.

He had remarried and moved to Canada, but on this particular day in 2006, he was coming alone to spend the day with the children.

Something had changed in the last month or so. He began contacting me by email and phone and asked for my input. We had been such a creative force together. He sounded strong and not beaten down as he had in the last few years.

I knew my workday was going to be long, but my goal was to be done at 5:00 so I could see him when he brought the children home.

The day grew late. I looked at my face in the mirror, applied fresh lipstick and a splash of perfume. I straightened papers at my desk, and slipped my computer into the bag. Then I got a business call. 

I hung up and looked at the time. Oh no! It’s past five! I knew David had to be back in LA that night to have dinner with Trevor, our 25 year old son. I got in my car and frantically dialed his number.

“David! I’m on my way… don’t leave yet!”

“Oh Sandy, I’m sorry. I dropped the kids off at the house. I’m already near Corona. 

My heart sank.

“But Sandy,” There was a long, expectant pause, “I’m coming back to LA. I’m pretty excited about my new script.” He continued. “Maybe you can read it!”

“David! Sure! I’d love to read it! That’s great! My heart was pounding. "The kids will be so happy you’re coming back!”  (My heart whispered. I knew it! It’s what I’d been feeling for weeks.)

He continued, “I had a great day with the kids. They’re incredible, Sandy. That’s because of you.”

“It’s us, David…we know how to make great kids.” There was a long sweet silence ruminating on the miracles we created together. “David, I want you to be a part of our lives again,” my voice trembled. “I miss you. I miss us.”

“I know, I miss you, too.” It was hard for him to say, but he said it. He said it.

“You could come for Thanksgiving! You and… your wife,” I replied. That was the hardest sentence of all…to include her“ I just want to have you in our lives again.” I said.

He took a breath.“I’m working on that,” he cleared his throat, “on being in your lives again.”

“Good,” I could no longer hold it in, “David... what happened to us? We were so happy. We had such a good life together. We made such a beautiful family.”

“Yes… we did.” He searched for words. How well I knew his writer’s brain. I could read every pause, every sigh, every breath.

“I guess… well… I guess it was the only way I could process losing Garrett. It hurt too much. I know, now, it wasn’t you, Sandy and I’m sorry. I just had to go away,  live life differently.”

So there it was. Exactly what I needed to hear all of these years. Searching, questioning, feeling like I had done something to cause it, that I wasn’t good enough, that I was the bad wife. As women, it’s sometimes so easy to take on the burden of guilt, even when it’s not ours to bear.

But it wasn’t me. It was the incredibly tragic loss of our son that wounded us both beyond anything we could have imagined. Our grief seized control, chiseled away at our foundation, and our enchanted love could no longer support us through the fall as the walls came tumbling down.

David whispered.  “I’ll be back in a month. We can see each other then.”

“Really, David? I would like that…a lot.” There was a long silence so full of words he couldn’t say… yet.

“Well… I’m having dinner with Trevor… ” he left the sentence hanging.

“So…great!” I wiped the tears with the back of my hand. I could hardly drive. 

“Tell Trevor I love him. Call me when you get back into town. Um… David, I’ve missed you.”

He replied quietly, “I've missed you, too.”

Add caption
The call ended, but I held onto this gift: The Reason. No, our love didn’t die. We had a foundation of love that we created four  beautiful children. That love remains in every cell of our bodies, and lives on in our children forever.  It all boiled down to one tragic moment that changed our lives forever. Together, we had lost our beautiful son.

Three weeks later David died. A heart attack took him at the age of 54. He never made it back to LA.

I realized in that last conversation, I had achieved the highest state of soul  love. I went full circle with him, found power in the act of forgiveness and returned to love.  I now know that the gift in forgiving is the state of grace.

Years later I began to I question, is there really only one true love in a lifetime?  
And so in 2010, four year’s after David's death, I was open to finding love again.

I often wrote about food on Facebook because cooking and eating is one of my great pleasures in life, and it connects people.

If you write about an Italian grilled sandwich on crusty Ciabatta bread with freshly made pesto, you’re bound to get 20 or 30 comments!  And I make my own pesto, which invites inquiries from my FB friends for the recipe.

With that enticing little “status update”another chapter of my life was just about to begin. The response was from a man I first crossed paths with 43 years before. I was just 16 and flew to New York to audition for a show that would send me around the world singing and dancing. I remembered getting off the bus with my suitcase in hand and my eyes wide open.

There he was, just 20 at the time. He said I didn’t notice him, and I don’t think I did. Had we spoken then, my life would have been very different. How fortunate life has taught me it doesn’t always happen the way we think it should. In the 43 years since we first met, I had a lifetime of lessons to learn.

I learned that love is a privilege and a commitment and not always easy. And, during my first union, I was also given the greatest gift. I became a mother.

Crossing paths in New York that day, 43 years ago, the course of my life actually changed forever. But I didn’t know, then… until he wrote on Facebook: Sandy, “You’re killing me.”

I responded to his post: “Why?”  And James de Girolamo wrote 5 paragraphs on food and passion.

The point is, Sandy,” he wrote, “ In a culture that now moves too quickly to celebrate connections with each other, we can find that place at the table over food prepared by caring hands, around the fire with flames and plumes of smoke…

Orion Organic Dinnerware
James was speaking my language of love and writing was his gift. His heart and spirit were expressed through his business, Orion Trading and Design, a company that designs and creates unique dinnerware for the restaurant industry. 

He lived and worked in another state and our only communication was the written word, until one day, months later, we met. That event brought forth a love like I’ve never known.

He said I was tempered by fire, and I think he was right, but, he said, he would embrace all that I am, my past, my present, and my future… and love me for the rest of my life.

We were married two years ago.

Here’s what I’ve learned about love in the second act of my life:
1.     Love isn’t about an age or a time or a place. It’s about a connection between two people that cannot be denied. Inherently we all want to love and be loved no matter what our stage in life. Has fear held you back? Time to begin looking at that and why.

2.     Love is available and present to us, but we have to be open to it. Love and awakening to love takes practice. Turn your “green light” on if you’re looking for love. It will show in the way you walk, talk, and hold another’s gaze. Put yourself out into the world and see what happens!

3.     Whoever has been in your past was there to teach you something about love. If you thought you had your soul mate, and now they’re gone, use what you learned about love to enhance a new relationship. You have so much to give!

4.     Character and beliefs are more important than whether you feel “attraction.” Pre-conceived ideas about how someone looks or their accomplishments hold you back. What is important is looking at the kind of person they really are.

5.     The need to be “right” limits our soul connection. It causes the other person to feel they need to defend themselves. Make amends when they are called for. Life is too short.

6.     Forgiveness helps you grow. Let go of resentments you may have been holding onto for decades. Instead, feel the shift when you can be thankful for the lessons learned by forgiving your ex-lover. Forgiveness releases the shackles of anger and allows your soul to return to love and a state of grace. 

7.     Strengthen the love you have for yourself. Louise Hay recommends you start by looking in the mirror and saying “I love you. I really, really love you.” What causes our spirit to connect with another is how much our heart is open to our own love of self. 
Our wedding dance

8.   It’s the reflection of who you are in their eyes that begins the profound love connection.

In the golden years, recognize that you are still a wonderful soul who desires and can give love. I call it the “teenage years” of the second half of my life.

   By now, you’ve experienced a lot of life and it’s the sum total of your life that is rich with the ability to love again. Be open to the possibility that another soul mate is just waiting to meet you for the next act of your beautiful story.

And…Believe in the miracle of enchanted love. I’m so glad I did.


And they live LOVE...happily ever after.















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Sandy Peckinpah writes and speaks on surviving loss and activating resilience. Her new award winning book entitled, "How to Survive the Worst that Can Happen" is a parent's step by step guide for healing after the loss of a child, based on her own experience of losing her 16 year old son. She also hosts a radio show in Northern CA on KRXA AM Talk Radio.
Website: www.SandyPeckinpah.com    
Visit my website and sign in to 
download my FREE ebook 
Stepping Stones to a Resilient Life

Email: contact: sandy@sandypeckinpah.com

Visit my website and sign in to download my FREE ebook, Stepping Stones to a Resilient Life

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