Dear Friends,

Merry Christmas! Happy Festival of Lights! Blessed Yule! And an especially happy and prosperous New Year to each of you.

2006 was a year of tremendous growth and expansion. Since I hung my "coaching shingle" out just over a year ago, it has been my privilege to work with an astounding group of people. I wish I could share each of their stories with you, but some of the issues my clients worked on this year were money, addiction, sex, parenting, relationships, family of origin baggage and "scarcity thinking versus abundance thinking".

I firmly believe that we teach what we need to learn and this was borne out numerous times throughout the year by my clients. Thank-you to each of you for being my teacher, coach, mentor and cheer leader. And herein lies the beauty of the coaching relationship: neither of us needs to know more than the other. I look forward to welcoming new clients into my practice in 2007, as well as continuing the work begun with my present clients.
I'd like to share a story with you in this issue, which has greatly impacted me and is the note on which I'll end 2006. It is alternately sad and beautiful, but begs to be told.

Early last Saturday morning (December 9th), my housemate of four years, and the best, closest friend I've ever had, Ronald Roy Tibbitts, slipped quietly away to his Eternal Rest from complications arising from AIDS. He had been in the hospital for ten days, but I managed to get him home for a day and a half. I, a care giver, and our dog, Sprite, were with him when he left, and although he was unable to communicate, I know he was happy and content to be at home surrounded by the love that only a best friend and a beloved dog can give.

I've decided to dedicate this issue of my newsletter to Ron, his life, how he impacted my life and what it was like to walk this last journey with him toward a new beginning.

Ron was born in San Jose, CA on June 28, 1965, six weeks premature and spent his early weeks on this planet fighting for his life in an incubator. He was subsequently given up for adoption and was adopted by Marley and Violet Tibbitts of Watsonville, CA. Ron endured a lot of teasing as a child and adolescent as a result of being quite overweight, a body image which never entirely left him, even as an adult when he was no longer overweight, rather "husky". He buried these adolescent wounds as best he could, but they hurt nonetheless, particularly in light of his sensitive Cancerian nature. The harvest these wounds eventually produced, was a man capable of enormous love, caring, and nurturing. Ron would do anything for anybody and never looked for reward. He lived the kind of compassion for others that is only borne out of great internal suffering, a quality I personally can relate to.
Although Ron knew he was gay, in part to please his parents and his church (Pentecostal), he married at 20. What followed was a very rocky eleven year marriage and a bitter divorce in which he lost everything. Ron was a very beaten man following his divorce and began a period of drifting in his life. By this time, he was living in Sacramento and after driving semis for many years, had gotten into the fast food industry at the management level. He also battled a substance abuse problem and unfortunately was arrested a couple times in possession of small amounts of methamphetamine.

When I met Ron, he was commuting between Watsonville living with his Dad (his mother had passed away a year earlier while Ron was in jail) and Sacramento where he had his court appearances. I had recently moved back to Sacramento after a year away following my diagnosis of Complex PTSD (a grizzly story I'll share with you another time) and was at sixes and sevens about living alone. I was clearly still gravely disabled from my experiences and needed a caregiver. Ron was sleeping in his car when he came up to Sacramento and when we met through mutual friends, we struck up a friendship and I asked him if he'd be my roommate and caregiver in exchange for room and board. He agreed, and we embarked on what, for both of us, would be a life changing journey.

Perhaps the biggest gift in hindsight that Ron gave me was teaching me how not to be afraid. In those early years in the wake of Complex PTSD, I was frightened of everything. I couldn't go to the store alone, make my doctor's appointments alone or even walk the dog alone. I was, as someone unkindly remarked, "a scared little bunny rabbit."
To give you an idea of the shape I was in, let me share with you what walking the dog around the block entailed. I would have Ron walk me to the sidewalk in front of our home and watch me till I reached the corner, at which point I'd have to navigate the scary strip of sidewalk and bushes where Ron could no longer see me. In the meantime, he would run back through the house, cross the patio and stand at the back fence so he could see me again, then I'd have to navigate the scary patch again on the other side of the block and he would run back through the house to the sidewalk in front to watch me walk the rest of the way home. And that's just one minute illustration of how he showed up for me. There were countless others, and he never complained.

Ultimately, I did learn to walk around the block with the dog without Ron watching, I was able to make it to the store alone, I was able to drive my car again in heavy traffic, and most importantly, Ron kept affirming that the murderous voices I heard in my head (bits and pieces of my shattered psyche), were, as he put it, "full of crapola". Ron gave me my life back again when no one else cared to get involved, not even my family, who just expected me to "snap out of it". Ron knew intuitively that you don't just snap out of Complex PTSD. Ask any Vietnam War veteran who has the condition and they'll tell you the same thing.

In the summer of 2004, I made arrangements to move to southern Oregon to take a teaching job and Ron asked if he could move with me. I said sure and we began looking for houses. Ultimately, Ron chose the house we lived in and did the decorating and picked out the wall colors for each room. Interestingly, I initially wanted the house next door, which was finished, but Ron thought, no, we should wait for the house next door to be finished. When we first looked at it, it was just a skeleton, but Ron had a vision of what it would be when it was finished and I went along with him. Well, I'm happy to say today that he was right: we have the most attractive home in our development. I say we, because it will always be "our" home.

I was, in hindsight, in no shape to be moving, and Ron singlehandedly did the job, and when my teaching position fell through several weeks later, he was there to scrape me up with a spatula. I felt I'd lost my professional identity, hence my whole identity and went into a deep depression, one I didn't think I'd pull out of. However, Ron was there and nursed me back to health over a six month period. I became a Life Coach and Ron was working at a local Burger King until a year ago.

About six months ago, Ron had a series of seizures and each time the doctors wanted to keep him overnight for observation, he refused. Then mysteriously he began to lose massive amounts of weight in a very short period of time. Then his eyesight began to fail and all this time I was pleading with him to go to a doctor and find out what was wrong, but he was adamant about not dealing with docs. Then he became incontinent and one afternoon could neither speak nor open his eyes. I had him rushed to the community hospital and they could find nothing wrong with him and again he refused to stay for observation. However, while in the hospital, they did an HIV test and it turned out positive. However, Ron didn't know how to break it to me and waited a full month before telling me. At this point, he had wasted down to 120 pounds, was almost blind, totally incontinent and could barely walk.

One morning, he couldn't walk, sit up, speak or open his eyes and I said, "Ron, I have to do what I have to do to save your life" and called 911. Several hours later, a doctor from the hospital called me with the grim news that Ron was in the advanced stages of AIDS and there was nothing that could be done. Indeed, that he had less than a month to live.
After he left the ICU, and settled into a private room, I began to focus on getting him home for his final weeks. Ron's fear of hospitals was that if he went in, he wouldn't come out, and I solemnly promised him I'd get him out.

Last Thursday afternoon, they brought him home on the maximum amount of oxygen possible and I was given a glorious day and a half with him. I said everything to him that came to mind, I caressed his head, kissed his face and hands, massaged his feet, anointed his forehead with oil, and asked people for prayer for him. As I watched his frail, little body struggling for each breath, I was struck by how similar his beginning was to his ending.

When he went early Saturday morning, there were no loose ends between us. Everything that needed to be said had been said. I asked the hospice nurse if I could have his body until noon and she replied that that would be fine. So I took some time that morning, and let the dog roam around on his hospital bed, licking his face, so he, too, could say goodbye. I then washed Ron's body with lavender water and anointed his forehead, hands and feet with special oil. When the funeral home arrived at noon and placed his wasted little body into a body bag, I was at peace.

Since then, his presence has been so strong in the house that I've just been spending time alone with it. I feel enveloped by Ron's love for me as his "brother" and I trust he feels it back from me wherever he is. All I know is that "life is eternal and love is immortal and death is only a horizon"-Carly Simon.

As I've reflected on his life these past few days and what he did for me and continues to do for me from afar, I'm struck again by how similar his beginning on this planet was to his end. In both cases he was struggling for breath and a heartbeat. The first time he was all alone in an incubator; the second time he was in an incubator of sorts, but the difference is, HE WASN"T ALONE. It was a privilege to be part of his life, all of his life, and finally his passing to a new life. I don't think the permanence of it has yet sunk in, but he will be with me forever and I with him, and although we weren't "partners", we may as well have been given how well we knew each other. Ron and Sprite (our Westie) and I were a family and now it's just Sprite and I.

I will miss Ron forever and look forward to that day, when my own time comes, that I will once again embrace him as the best friend I ever had. One of the last things I whispered in his ear was, "I am with you forever, and you are with me forever."
Thank-you, friends, for letting me share this. Peace be with each of you. So be it. Blessed be.

WEBSITE(S) OF INTEREST:

Rio Caliente Hot Springs - Spa & Nature Resort- Primavera, Mexico: http://www.riocaliente.com

Sanoviv Medical Institute - Baja California (Mexico): http://www.sanoviv.com

UPCOMING EVENTS:

Don't forget to mark your calendars for Saturday, January 6, 2007 at 9 a.m. PST for an hour-long roundtable discussion on "Identifying and Overcoming Spiritual Obstacles". Admission is free, but there are only 30 places available, so don't hesitate to reserve your spot by calling or emailing me: (541) 535-1558 (PST) or gavin@whitehawkspiritcoaching.com. This will be a great opportunity to get to know me, my coaching style and to interact with like-minded others. I look forward to "seeing" you there. This event repeats every three months and the recording of the discussion will be available on my Website shortly after the seminar.

Also (big drum roll), please mark your calendars for Saturday, January 27, 2007 at 9 a.m. PST. This will be the beginning session of the ongoing "Spirit Community", which will meet bi-weekly (the second session, then, will be on Saturday, February 10, 2007 at the same time). The first topic of discussion is: MONEY. We will be exploring our relationships with money, scarcity versus abundance thinking, stewardship, poverty and ways to integrate our relationships to money into our everyday spiritual practice.
 
The cost to belong to the club is $39.99 a month and can be billed on a recurring basis to your credit card until you decide to leave the group. Please call or email me to enroll.
 
The "Spirit Community" is my antidote to what I call "techno-isolationism" and is geared toward people who may not be part of a spiritual community, but are walking a spiritual path, perhaps alone, and craving fellowship. You don't need to be religious or a church-goer to belong to the club (but those who are, are welcome too!!). In an uncertain and frightening world, we really do need each other, particularly when the Internet has now made it possible for us to almost never have to leave home. Come prepared to be challenged, to share, and to make a host of new friends.

Until next time, I wish each of you the peace that passes all understanding. Be strong. Stand firm. Trust your intuition. Rely on the Spirit. And keep asking those tough questions.
"Knock and it shall be opened unto you."

Warmly,
Gavin

Gavin W. Young, Jr., M.A., M.A.P.M., C.T.A.C.; Founder and CEO (Creative Executive Officer):

Whitehawk Spirit Coaching, LLC

1830 Summer Place

Talent, OR 97540
United States