The Life of a Healer- Part 6 (brain injuries and miracles)


Wildflower laid there staring at the ceiling, the little white dog standing over her.  She scolded herself for getting hurt so easily.  The hatch of the minivan was not all the way released as it held against the closed garage door and as she backed out of the opening behind the minivan after retrieving something she hit her head on the corner of that hatch so hard it knocked her to the ground.  The soft spot on the crown of her head stung and she had trouble getting up.

Oh, maybe it was the same day or perhaps the next but the good husband couldn’t get a hold of Wildflower and called the neighbor to go by the house and there she was found lying on the stairs muttering in French about her children and wasn’t able to get up.  Things were going downhill quickly.  A trip to the Emergency room led to diagnoses of possible MS and dehydration.  Wildflower asked incredulously, “MS since Wednesday when I hit my head?”  This further added to the loss of faith Wildflower had in doctors and the medical system but the next year and a half with a head injury would complete it.

She declined in abilities and in health.  It had not even been a year since they were married and the good husband became a caregiver rather than a new husband.  She had constant, non-stop migraines.  Mini-seizures occurred regularly.  She had to walk with a cane as her balance and equilibrium were completely off.  She had lost a lot of hearing in one ear, and went from perfect eye sight to losing her eye sight in one eye.  She had to be told each morning what day it was, what her name was, what she was supposed to do that day.  She would speak in French then in English, never knowing which one she was speaking.  She was losing herself, her dignity, and her life and fell into a great depression.  She would never be the same again.  She felt sad for the good husband.  She had been a caregiver for a girl who had a brain injury and knew that it would never get better.  Doctors gave her hearing tests, and new glasses, and offered her anti-depressants and wished her luck.  Then one night she sat in the dark of her office praying and holding up the proverbial white flag.  She surrendered.

“If I am to have this disability for the rest of my life then I will use it to help others.  I will help those with similar issues and give myself to God,” she fervently prayed.

Wildflower’s children had decided to be baptized in the church that they were all attending at the time.  Wildflower loved the pastor that would be doing the ceremony and decided to be re-baptized.  That day she felt the cool water rush over her skin and hair and as she walked out of the sanctuary she realized she did not need her cane.  Over the next few days she prayed that the symptoms would not come back as she was unsure if God would have healed her yet again but it was certainly obvious that she was completely healed.  Her eyesight was restored, her hearing was restored, the pain was gone, her balance was restored, her mind was clear, and she and the good husband were overjoyed.  It was another miracle.


So, Wildflower decided to go to college to become a music pastor.  She loved to sing and found that music was a powerful way to reach people.  For a year and a half she studied music and fell in love with her English classes just like when she was a child in school.  But alas, time and money were gone and it was just before Christmas so she left school to get a job that could better help them make ends meet.


It was not long after this that Wildflower and the good husband were in a garden center looking through a book where lavender could heal skin conditions and goldenseal could heal bronchitis and she was ever mesmerized.  Wildflower had never heard that herbs could heal ailments.  She had long been disillusioned with pharmaceutical medications and doctor’s best guesses for ailments.  Something came alive in her, a long lost knowledge in her DNA, and she realized she did know these plants.  She read through book after book of herbal knowledge understanding innately each property, each flower, each history and consuming it like good wine.  In her heart and somewhere in her mind she knew all these things and within days she was developing medicines.

Wildflower and the good husband began selling these potions at farmer’s markets the following summer to see if there were any interest and indeed there was.  The medicines got better, stronger, more beautiful, more healing, and the herbs started prospering in her gardens and in her workshop.  But there was more to this healer’s journey.


The medicine people came to teach her then….


The Life of a Healer- Part 5 (wedding bells and adoptions)


It was a long recovery but there was a new fire in her spirit.  She was happy to be home with her children.  She started to stash money that she had made.  She fell in love with the smiling man (though he didn’t know it yet).  And a wonderful thing happened.  Wildflower realized that when her cousin, Faith, was there, the raging husband wouldn’t do anything.  So, Faith moved in.  He had his rants if she were gone and did proceed to finish breaking the majority of Wildflower’s belongings, but while she filed for divorce and found an apartment, and put the house up for sale, there was no more violence to her as long as Faith were there.  Within four and a half months from her determined decision she was free.  All she got from the divorce was her children and her animals and that suited her just fine.  She set up the lawn chairs and the two mattresses in the apartment and breathed a sigh of relief.

She was dating the smiling man and the children took to him immediately.  He attended their pre-school programs and their soccer games.  They soon moved in with the smiling man and seven months later all moved into a house together.  A house in a suburb, with a yard, and neighborhood children, and a happy household.  The smiling man asked Wildflower to marry him one night before karaoke and she accepted.  Things at the new house were very good.

The raging husband turned on the children and Wildflower immediately sought a restraining order.  It is next to impossible to get a permanent restraining order against a parent.  But over the next two years amazing things occurred.  A free attorney from a prestigious law school found and defended Wildflower and her children.  A kind children’s advocate saw through the raging husband and his family’s lies and sided with the mother.  The judge found that all of the evidence led to the obvious fact that the raging husband was entirely too unstable, in fact possibly capable of murder, and put a permanent restraining order in place.  The raging husband chose to sign over his rights and the smiling man adopted them.

The children were already calling him daddy and using his last name at school and finally it was complete and they were all safe.


The wedding was beautiful.  Two hundred and twenty people arrived with the snow steadily coming down.  This would be Wildflower’s first wedding.  The first in crumpled clothes at the Justice of the Peace then dropped off at home so the groom could go to work had been annulled.  She wore her mother’s dress and a vintage inspired veil, with double tulips and long ribbons that hung from them.  The little boy, the girl with the big blue eyes, and the red head along with their new cousins of similar age all looked fine in their suits and silver laden dresses.  Surrounded by family and friends, with Faith as her maid of honor, she and the smiling man promised to protect and love each other for the rest of their lives.  That was nearly twelve years ago.

Now the next scene may seem completely unfair and perhaps improbable but there are medical documents out there and many witnesses that can attest to this phenomenon.  Of course there is Wildflower, herself, completely well now.  Another paving in the road to becoming a healer.  One must have the utmost compassion for others, be able to understand in great empathy what others feel, what they need to be well, and though she didn’t know how she would use her gifts and help them yet, she was on her way to that time.  But first, the tragedy.


The Life of a Healer- Part 4 (sodas and strength)


She sat by the window holding a baseball bat, her small white dog near her shivering the same.  The children asleep.  She waited watching the entire night for him to come home.  His mother had quickly posted bail and he had the car.  That day he had emptied the bank account leaving Wildflower with no food, no transportation, and no money, and a fear that he would come back that night.  But he didn’t.

A very nice acquaintance of hers picked her up and took her to court, bought her and her children food, and was very kind but he wanted more than just friendship, and she did not, so he left, and the raging husband came back.  Even more raging than before.  People often wonder why a woman stays.  Why doesn’t she just leave?  It is never that easy Wildflower recalled.  If a woman’s self-esteem has been slowly taken from her, she is left to feel worthless.  She also no longer has much family at this point.  Not really any friends.  A shelter in hiding with children sounds terrifying.  One would have to come out sometime.  The raging husband will also have control of money and the woman is left to feel like there is no possible way to leave.  The raging husband would use the children to make Wildflower afraid to leave.

“You are a stripper, who’s going to let you have the children?”  The children were her life.


The raging husband went into a mood and for three months did not acknowledge or even utter a word to Wildflower.  She began doing things only with the children.  The young girl surrounded by ducks and squirrels and poetry books still existed.  She often took the children to the park with large trees or hiking in the mountains, or to the zoo.  Pretending he wasn’t there but then the rages would come back.  And she prayed to love him and make the marriage work because she knew of nothing else.

You probably wonder what Wildflower was doing with her intuitive gifts.  Certainly not healing folks yet.  She could still tell when the phone would ring, who it would be, often if people died, or if something sad was happening.  She could also tell you which football team would win.  Nothing that would transform her community or world around her.  Yet.

The car accident changed everything.  Sometimes one needs a blatant wake up call.  Almost dying does that.  Oh wait, there was more of Wildflower’s story that is quite imperative to where she is today.  She met a man.


It was all very innocent.  A year and a half before this point in Wildflower’s tale a young man and friend came into the club.  This turned into weekly visits for conversations and sodas with Wildflower and Faith.  The smiling man and his friend just enjoyed their company.  Wildflower and the smiling man had nothing in common.  Nothing.  So a benign friendship transposed and a year and a half of email chats, weekly conversations, and after work breakfasts created a strong friendship and a common respect.

The car accident itself was a hit and run side swipe.  The result was a little boy with a very sore back and Wildflower had torn muscles in her chest from the seatbelt.  The insurance company paid for her to have reconstructive surgery.  She woke up from the surgery wailing and the nurses tried to settle her down.  She was in pain and couldn’t breathe.  After vomiting blood and having extremely low oxygen levels, the doctor realized that blood had filled her lungs.  A result from a reaction to the tube down her throat and one the anesthesiologist failed to notice before.  She lay in intensive care for five days fighting for her life, sometimes wanting to give up, in tremendous pain, and all the time was alone.  The raging husband never came.  No one came.  The children were kept from her.  She realized in that moment that life is very, very short and that fighting for that marriage was not worth it and that she and her children could possibly have a different life.  This was right before her twenty-seventh birthday.  And in that second she knew that if she walked out of the hospital alive, she was leaving.  No matter what.

“Your threats and contempt have no place in mind

as I look outside the box and truth I find

no love for me you have ever had

and all that wasted time being sad.

Pain after pain inflicted on me

and you too blind to possibly see

and in your selfishness possibly say

that now with you you want me to stay.

And threaten to take my three loves away

if in your life I do not care to stay

as my strength grows strong

I find with you I don’t belong.”

April 2001



The Life of a Healer- Part 3 (the darkest hour always passes)


The fire didn’t catch and the raging husband grew bored and went to break other things.  He would regularly destroy Wildflower’s things, her paintings, writings, photographs, anything within reach.  During this time Wildflower was very confused, for she had never experienced anything like this and it all seemed quite odd to her.  Abuse is when someone hits you, right?  This was not like that.  It seldom is, she would later learn.  It almost always starts with signs of anger, lowering the victim’s self-esteem, estranging her from family, calling names, throwing things, yelling in their face…and then it escalates.  Wildflower got through those particular few months while she was pregnant with her baby girl by praying fervently.


She remembered the year before when she was at a church and her asthma had been healed.  She had been working for an animal shelter and was taught incorrectly when mixing chemicals to clean and a horrid case of chemical asthma ensued.  The company did not tell her about workman’s compensation and was pleased when she decided to give up the job because she couldn’t breathe.  Many trips to the hospital, nights trying to catch her breath, she now found herself sitting in that church, unbeknownst to her of what would occur, the pastor began naming off people and ailments and even though he didn’t speak to her, she could feel her lungs healing and from then on the asthma was gone.  She often wondered why God had chosen to heal her twice of horrible ailments.

During those dark hours, locked in a bedroom, locked out in the snow with her son, dodging things being thrown at her, wondering why he was so angry at her, wondering what she had done, she listened to tapes from that church and in a month or so he went into a nice phase.  This happens quite often too, she later learned, there is always a make up phase.  Roses, apologies, will never happen again.  When couples that had been married a long time would tell Wildflower, “We have been through some tough times but we made it!” she thought they meant what she was going through.  Half of her family had already been isolated by the raging husband and the other half didn’t believe her.  She no longer had any friends.  Only her little boy, who meant everything to her.

During the nice phase the little girl with the big blue eyes was born and then another.  A little red head.  Beautiful as the other two.  The raging husband and the doctor decided that Wildflower was having too many children and she was wheeled into an operating room after giving birth to the red head and was no longer able to have children.  She didn’t feel like she had a choice.

Over the next few years Wildflower lost her identity.  She loved modeling and was very successful after the little red head was born.  But after awhile she opened her own company and struggled to make it work.  The raging husband saw that several of the models were exotic dancers.  They made several hundred dollars a night and he decided Wildflower should do that, just once so that they could get caught up on bills.  Just once.  She did not want to go but he told her it would be her fault if they ended up losing everything.  Just once turned into three years as every time she tried to quit, his tyrannical rages and guilt trips convinced her to stay.

There were bright lights in this time though.  One was her cousin, Faith, who began dancing with her.  It became a game.  They put on fake eyelashes and hair extensions.  Lots of beautiful makeup and pretty clothes, and since they were both real dancers, would make it a real show and have fun.  They both acted like ladies and did not do anything that would be considered in bad taste (except, perhaps, the dancing!).  Wildflower spent most of the time each evening listening.  Most of the people that were there were widows, divorcees, older gentleman who just wanted someone to talk to.  Wildflower learned to listen and console.  Her job became listening to and comforting the lonely.


Over those years at the house of the raging husband, unbeknownst to everyone else, there was terrible unrest.  Wildflower was so fearful of losing her children and animals if anyone learned what was going on.  She lied to the veterinarian.  She said that her cat had fallen out of a window by accident because she was afraid if the vet found out that he had been thrown down the stairs and had his leg broken she would arrange to take all of her animals away.  Cats were being thrown against walls.  Wildflower’s beloved childhood cat often hurt.  Dogs hurt.  Horrible names were replacing Wildflower’s name.  Rapes.  Volatile outbursts.  And worst of all, silence.  After a day in the hospital following a particularly harsh fight, after her head had been repeatedly slammed into a headboard and her arm twisted around her body until she was certain it would snap, she called the police.  Her only thought was escape… but could she?



The Life of a Healer- Part 1 (oddities and healings)


I remember that little girl rather clearly though it was many a year ago.  Her name was Wildflower and I can see her now with her wispy brown hair and big blue eyes planting dandelion seeds in a circular pattern in the neighbor’s yard in hopes of creating bountiful yellow meadows on that city block.  Even then, at six years old, Wildflower understood the importance of dandelions and was ever baffled at those who attempted their demise.


She was a bit of an odd child, I recall.  She spent most of her time playing alone.  She kept only a few close friends.  Her friends were the trees and the animals.  She had a special bond with animals, an empathy that confused those near, and a deep compassion for all living creatures.

As the child started to grow she spent most of her time at the park reading, or writing poetry.  She would feed the ducks and they would lie along the edges of her blanket by the lake, under the large summer trees.  She would feed squirrels by hand and chatter with them as they would her.  Again, only keeping a few close friends, she spent most of her time alone among animals and nature.


When she was quite small her parents were Atheist and so Wildflower would test God.  “God, if you are real, help me with my homework!”  Every time she did her English work she would ask to find a word in the dictionary that was required and would turn to the page and point to it with her eyes closed.  Every time she found the word she was looking for.  This surprised and delighted the young child and long talks ensued with the Great Spirit.  Her parents became Catholic and so did she and Wildflower fell in love with all the prayers and quiet treasures of silent reverie.  She wished to become a nun and spend her entire life writing and reading and praying and helping animals and people.

mother cabrini

When Wildflower was nine years old she was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis.  Such an odd thing for a child to experience and for five years weekly visits to doctors, too much aspirin, and very painful times commenced.  The doctors simply could not help.  At fourteen years old it was time to be confirmed in the Catholic Church and a retreat was taking place at the amazing Mother Cabrini Shrine in Golden, Colorado.  This is a place with awe inspiring views and a sense of true peace and miracles.  The fountain where Mother Cabrini struck a rock to bring water forth is still there and those searching, praying, or praising go to this miraculous place.  Including, at the time, a bunch of rough and tumble teenagers with little respect and a strong sense of rebellion.  Wildflower remembered the teenagers as they gathered in a room in the old house where a small, Hispanic woman with a quiet presence stood.  The children made jokes, made light of the heavy air.  The woman called the first child up and made the sign of the cross on their forehead with holy water.  The youth leaders were behind the young man as he stiffened and fell straight to the ground, being guided by their knowing hands.  There he lay paralyzed as she prayed over him.  The teenagers sat speechless.  When it was Wildflower’s turn she walked up, nervous about what would happen, and she too fell straight back and lay on the patterned rug staring at the ceiling paralyzed.  The mysterious woman leaned over her and said that Wildflower would begin speaking in tongues and that her arthritis would leave her body.  Wildflower was carried to a couch where the words of a higher power began to flow out of her mysteriously and without aid and through her fingertips a rush of power flew, all the pain that she could handle was rushing through her fingers and out of her body.  She was shaking and being comforted by youth leaders and in that moment was healed.


This would be the first of four miraculous healings that would occur to the young healer long before she knew her calling.  She knew the plants and herbs and animals and the Great Spirit but did not yet know the herbs’ practical uses as she was still in a place where no one knew that plants could speak or heal.  So, even though she tended wild flowers, she knew not that she would work with them in the future.  Because after a few years she became lost….