Our 23-year-old granddaughter, Nicole Diane Coleman, was found murdered on December 31, 2018. Several people have asked me for a copy of the words I spoke at her memorial service on January 12th. Here is what I said:
We were lucky enough to live near Nicole the first few years of her life. When she was a baby, she loved her Grandpa Dempsey. In fact, there were times she would go only to her mother or to him.
Other people have talked about her love of practical jokes. Chloe was my first grandchild, and she unfortunately christened me “Gummy.” By the time Nik, our 3rd grandchild, came along, I was stuck with the name forever.
One day, when Nicole was three, I was driving down the road with a collection of kids in the back seat, and suddenly Nikki said, “Gummy. That sounds just like Dummy. Let’s call her Dummy.” All the kids thought that was a great idea, and that’s all I heard for a few days until I finally shut it down.
Nikki and I had a lot in common. We loved being outdoors, and we would go on long walks together. We both love the ocean. Year before last we drove to Galveston and rode the ferry over to Boliver. She asked me to go again, and I told her we could this spring.
I’m a writer and an indifferent poet; Nicole was a wonderful writer and poet. I used to always give the kids books for Christmas, until one day Chloe took me aside and said, “Okay, Gummy, we have enough books. It’s time to buy us something else.” But Nikki always loved books, and I frequently bought her beautiful notebooks for writing. A year or so ago, I asked her if she’d like me to get her some notebooks. No, she said, she didn’t write anymore.
I make it a habit to live in gratitude, to be grateful for even the smallest things. The more I do that, the better my life works. It has been difficult these past two weeks to feel grateful, but there is one thing that has helped me quite a bit.
Dempsey and I have a good friend of some decades, the writer, Tom Pauley, who a few years ago had a series of strokes and was clinically dead. Then he returned to his body, and he has now finished a new book about his experience. I had just completed editing his book shortly before we lost Nicole.
The book is rich in detail, but there were two things that impacted me the most. First, Tom had an experience similar to those described by others who have had near-death events. As the doctors were trying to save his life, Tom felt himself leave his body, pulled toward what he describes as a tremendous ship of energy and light. The lights were of all colors, and he was surrounded by a heady fragrance, and beautiful music. Most of all, he felt himself filled with love, surrounded and supported by a love beyond any love he had ever known. He felt tremendous joy and peace, and he knew that he was approaching the presence of God. His book is in fact called, In the Presence of the Generous One.
Second, Tom was invited to view significant events in his life, particularly events for which he felt guilt or shame. Instead of being judged, he was simply guided to see how the things he had done had given him opportunities to grow and change, and how the other people involved had also participated in creating the chance for them to grow and change and advance spiritually. In fact, that is the purpose of our life on earth.
I don’t believe in a Devil who wields a pitchfork and stomps around hell. But I do believe in evil. We can hardly deny its existence, for we see it in war and genocide, and in the evil one person sometimes inflicts on another. On the last day of 2018, we were all touched by evil. One evil act broke so many hearts, and took Nicole away from us.
I am certain, however, that evil cannot triumph over love. Evil may have its day, but love will defeat it. In the last moments of Nikki’s life, evil ended her human existence, but I know that the moment Nicole left the body that no longer served her, she, too, was lifted up to unimaginable love, and joy and peace. I know she is safe, her mind is once again clear, and filled with an understanding we must wait to experience until we join her.
I believe she is able to see us, and that she does not want us to suffer missing her. The last day I was with Nicole, a week before she died, she told me how much she loves her mom, her sisters and her dad, and how lucky she was that he was always there for her. We didn’t know we were parting, but she wanted to be sure I took that message.
So what do we do now, with our pain and loss? First, we must be gentle with ourselves and with each other. We are deep in our human experience, and for us, her death is a tragedy. Not for her, but for us. But we must not get caught in an unending cycle of sorrow. Our task is to allow her the freedom to go ahead of us, while we remain here being the very best people we can be, being easy with ourselves when we fail, and loving ourselves and each other regardless. We can carry forward what was valuable to Nikki, her compassion and her belief in fairness. She was young, and she had her struggles, but she had things to teach us.
When we think of her, let’s take a moment to be so grateful for her presence in our lives, for the sweetness, the sense of fun, the joy she brought us. Let’s be grateful that her troubles are now behind her.
We must go on working, playing, singing, laughing, having fun and having adventures. That is what she wants for us, to experience all the joy available to us while we’re here. Sometimes we may feel her with us, and sometimes she may make her presence known. We can talk to her, and sometimes we may feel her answering us.
We are all connected, all of us here within the human dimension and all who have gone ahead. We are all part of each other, beloved of God, made in the image of the God whom Nikki now knows, and in whose care she now resides as she waits for us.