Sacred Hellos - messages from heaven.

Book is available here.

Have you ever received a sign from a deceased loved one? You are not alone. Perhaps you are finding yourself questioning whether or not this has happened to you. Signs from our loved ones can come in many forms. Cardinals, coins, numbers, feathers, dreams – these are all examples of signs I consider to be Sacred Hellos. There are countless other signs as well. What is yours?

In Sacred Hellos, Noelle eloquently moves us through her decade of mourning. Each stage of grief is woven throughout her journey. She shares personal stories of signs, her feelings of deep sadness and anger following the death of her mother, as well as the pure, raw emotions of holding space for loved ones during their transitions. Noelle’s honest, heartfelt stories and powerful artwork serve as a connection to those we have loved and helped us to find our own something that is bigger than ourselves. Noelle offers tips on grieving, steps to discover signs, and lessons of hope, acceptance, and resilience; revealing to us how she integrated these with her religious and spiritual beliefs. This book includes stories submitted by others and their experiences with signs from their loved ones.

Sacred Hellos is the book I wish I had a decade ago.” ~Noelle


SACRED HELLOS –MESSAGES FROM HEAVEN is a lifesaver of a book written by Noelle Rollins.  As stated in the subtitle, it is about, “How signs and creativity transformed my decade of mourning into peacefulness and hope.”  It is also about so much more.
The physical book itself is quite visually beautiful.  It is illustrated by Noelle who has incredible abilities as a visual artist.  The softly colored sketches, paintings, and drawings add a great deal of appeal to the journey she shares with her words.  There’s also an added gift  – some stories shared by people other than Noelle who have experienced their own Sacred Hellos.
The book is sometimes raw and sometimes downright magical.  Noelle shares very personal struggles that she and her family faced after losing her dear mother, who was only 57.   Though the pain is described clearly enough to make us, the reader, feel it, there is also an opportunity to process it along with Noelle.  What makes it magical is that she finds ways to exist and share her love energy as a result of all that pain.  It is a healing book.
Her story includes advice at times and a great soothing at times.  It is always self-aware and is shared at great risk, from deep within her soul.  
As someone who has experienced loss, I found it something to “hang onto,” like a branch jutting out into the river.  Her warmth, honesty, and depth drew me into a shared journey of her pain and growth.
I highly recommend this book.  It will help you on your own journey.
Barbara Hynes-Tomczyk
Author “Can’t Someone Fix What Ails Me?”

Excerpt from Book:

One Thing to do After a Death That Nobody Tells You

It was November and I was desperately looking through old family photos. It had been 10 months since my mom died and I was missing her like crazy. I found countless perfectly posed photos, photos of the dogs, random sunsets, and birthday parties. Finally, I found the picture I was looking for. It was the dining room in my parents’ home. The photo featured the large dining table fully set for our last family Christmas gathering before my mom would die unexpectedly just weeks later.

What I loved most about the photo, ironically, was not the actual dining table. It was the way my mom hung a wreath in her window or the mirror hanging on the wall that she had faux finished to make it look like the paint was crackling. The photo captured how she hosted, all her personal touches, her showing her love for us for that day.

Take photographs.

Go into your loved one’s space and take a photo of the way the reading glasses are sitting on the side table, how the spice cabinet looks, or the jacket hanging on the hook. Photograph the wall of framed photos, the collection of ball caps, or figurines. Capture the yard, the tools on a workbench in the garage, the view from the kitchen table, even your favorite chair, or the kitchen tile.

My dad is more of a minimalist and mourning our mom took up most of his energy that first part of the year. He had very little emotional attachment to the stuff that he and my mom shared. None of it connected him to her. He carried his memories in other ways.

For me, however, I see my mom in all of it. I see her hands arranging the flowers into the vase on the table. Her turquoise ring and sterling silver jewelry adorning her fingers and wrists remind me of seeing her hands peeling vegetables before making her famous veggie, pasta salad. These things, especially now that she is gone, trigger loving memories of her. They make me feel connected to my mom’s energy and her spirit, her humanness.

In the time after someone passes there is a brief period when the way they had things is still in place. For me having photos is something that I did accidentally. I wish I had done more and had photos of every room. I wish I could remember her lamp, what she was reading, the way her clothes looked all hanging together in the closet.

That November when I was looking through photos, my goal was to put together small albums for each of my siblings. The albums would be filled with images of the houses we all had lived in together. The photos brought reminders of the bold wallpapers, wall hangings, and the way the bamboo plant sat under the stained-glass panel in the trio of kitchen windows. I knew each of us… (continued in the book.)

Find the book on Amazon here.