-A great gift of daily inspiration for anyone suffering from the loss of a love.-An "accidental masterpiece" taken from Becky's notes during the year following her husband's death. Each overheard conversation is a reflection of joy, empathy, and love that will bring those dealing with loss comfort.-A heartfelt, new look at the process of grieving and healing.
Rebecca Cooper is a Belmont University graduate and former teacher, business owner and career professional. Her love of writing dates back to elementary school, and she has produced stories, poetry, high school and college newspaper articles and travel blogs (before she knew she was blogging). In this first published work, scribbles on scraps of paper capture imaginary conversations she began to overhear after the sudden death of her husband. While prioritizing her grandchildren and a love for travel and books, she divides the rest of her time among church and other family and friends – all of whom took turns carrying her along a journey of love, loss and recovery. Becky currently resides in Franklin, TN.
Although I had initial reservations about the premise, I found ,Hey, God? Yes, Charles to be a delightful book about real life, real grief, real faith, and real hope. I highly recommend it, especially for persons walking through the complicated journey of grief. — Martin Thielen, author of the best-selling books, What's the Least I Can Believe and Still Be a Christian? and The Answer to Bad Religion Is Not No Religion (Westminster John Knox)
"In this heartfelt memoir and series of dialogues, recent widow Cooper copes with her husband's sudden death by imagining the conversations her larger-than-life spouse might be having with God: 'I was done talking to God. Charles, as it turned out, was not.' Cooper believes she overheard these snippets of Charles's conversations with God, chronicling them through her first year of widowhood in this witty, bittersweet collection. In the dialogues, Charles helplessly watches his wife go through the grieving process, remarking to God about everything from the comments made at his funeral (a best friend gave away the fact that Charles was a 'commando sleeper') to the fact that 'Becky' now takes his T-shirt to bed every night. Much of the book reads like a diary as Cooper speaks to her imagined Charles, showing the daily starts and stops in grieving the loss of a partner. The result is a cathartic journey into a husband's afterlife from the eyes of someone that shared his earthly love." - Publishers Weekly
An "accidental masterpiece" taken from a widow's notes during the year following her husband's death
"In this heartfelt memoir and series of dialogues, recent widow Cooper copes with her husband's sudden death by imagining the conversations her larger-than-life spouse might be having with God: 'I was done talking to God. Charles, as it turned out, was not.' Cooper believes she overheard these snippets of Charles's conversations with God, chronicling them through her first year of widowhood in this witty, bittersweet collection. In the dialogues, Charles helplessly watches his wife go through the grieving process, remarking to God about everything from the comments made at his funeral (a best friend gave away the fact that Charles was a 'commando sleeper') to the fact that 'Becky' now takes his T-shirt to bed every night. Much of the book reads like a diary as Cooper speaks to her imagined Charles, showing the daily starts and stops in grieving the loss of a partner. The result is a cathartic journey into a husband's afterlife from the eyes of someone that shared his earthly love." - Publishers Weekly
An "accidental masterpiece" taken from a widow's notes during the year following her husband's death
"Hey, God?" "Yes, Charles." "Becky feels guilty about letting me die." "Becky let you die?" God frowned. "She spent thirteen days vetting the hospital and the doctors, getting second opinions, researching on the Internet nonstop, and calling in every medical connection she had. The gal in the ICU asked her if she was a nurse for Pete's sake." Charles was solemn. "Yeah, but we always, always had each other's backs. That last hour by my side, watching my numbers drop, she thought she had failed me." "Your oxygen," said God quietly, "is what failed you."
-A great gift of daily inspiration for anyone suffering from the loss of a love. -An "accidental masterpiece" taken from Becky's notes during the year following her husband's death. Each overheard conversation is a reflection of joy, empathy, and love. -A heartfelt, timeless look at the process of grieving.