The Angel in My Pocket: A Story of Love, Loss, and Life After Death

The Angel in My Pocket: A Story of Love, Loss, and Life After Death

Sukey Forbes

Language: English

Pages: 256

ISBN: 0143127578

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


“A complex story of love and grief in which [Forbes] comes to live with hope and faith.” —The Boston Globe

Inspirational memoirs and books that offer glimpses into the afterlife hold a deep and enduring appeal for readers of all ages. The Angel in My Pocket is both of these, as well as a rare insider’s look at the prominent Forbes clan. After the death of her six-year-old daughter Charlotte, Sukey Forbes struggles to come to terms with grief as she chafes against the emotional reserve and strict self-reliance that are part of her blue-blooded New England heritage. Forbes explores her family’s history of spiritual seekers—including her great-great-great grandfather, Ralph Waldo Emerson, who similarly lost a young child—and later, through a renowned medium, makes a connection with Charlotte on the other side. Hers is a moving story of coping with loss, finding reassurance, and recapturing the joy of living by accepting the gifts of suffering.

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picked up one of the huge granite planters sitting by the door and hurled it across the lawn. My gothic nightmare of derangement was coming true—only it wasn’t happening to me. It was Michael who was headed down the Charlotte Brontë path, and there wasn’t room for both of us. Rather than turning me into the mad wife in the attic from Jane Eyre, grief was turning Michael into the brooding Rochester. Maybe his Catholic faith was too abstract, or his idea of heaven and the afterlife too distant, to

picked up one of the huge granite planters sitting by the door and hurled it across the lawn. My gothic nightmare of derangement was coming true—only it wasn’t happening to me. It was Michael who was headed down the Charlotte Brontë path, and there wasn’t room for both of us. Rather than turning me into the mad wife in the attic from Jane Eyre, grief was turning Michael into the brooding Rochester. Maybe his Catholic faith was too abstract, or his idea of heaven and the afterlife too distant, to

of the lagoon, but I didn’t care. The fact that this shark was getting international attention simply confirmed the importance I assigned to it. I waded out and stood on a rock in the lagoon with this great white swimming four feet away. I was completely mesmerized, oblivious to the danger, snapping pictures and gasping in awe each time it circled past. It wasn’t until I had the film developed that I really saw the giant eye looking right at me. Had I come unglued? Lost my mind? For Melville’s

very real danger of avalanche, and ten people have died there under piles of snow in the past sixty years. In my pocket I had Charlotte’s prayer card with the Helen Keller quote: “What we have once enjoyed we can never lose; all that we love deeply becomes a part of us.” I also kept having conversations with her in my head: “Please watch out for us.” By this point in my life, when I prayed, it was exclusively to Charlotte. I found it reassuring that we had my uncle Jed Williamson along, a

Charlotte died” and “after Charlotte died.” She’s been gone longer than she was ever here. The passage of time since her death has not softened its impact, but the years have allowed me to file the wound inside of me so that it does not overpower me on a daily basis. The triggers that bring on the pain are better known to me and I am better able to sit with the pain when it comes. But that doesn’t make the pain any less. On my first visit to her memorial, I realized that this was a place for

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