Shelly did not want to come back after she died. But her sister told her she had to. She still had work to do—a purpose greater than herself.
Shelly had been a surfer, a PE teacher, and a coach. She was also using drugs, and eventually, they caused a massive stroke.
Doctors told her sons it was time to let her go. But her oldest climbed into her hospital bed and said, “No. She’s still with us. I can feel it.”
He was right.
The sister who told Shelly to go back was Kathryn—a sister she had lost in the most unimaginable way. On New Year’s Day in 2006, Kathryn, her husband Bryan, and their two young daughters were murdered in the basement of their Richmond home.
Kathryn told her, “Go back. You have things to do.” But Shelly didn’t want to come back. Where she was, she felt complete peace. There was no pain—only the purest, most unconditional love she had ever known.
Still, Kathryn insisted.
It took a couple of months, but Shelly finally came out of the coma. When she was stable enough to leave, she went home in a wheelchair and had to learn how to do everything again.
She persevered. She figured it out. She chose to live.
About a year and a half later, Shelly began piecing together the purpose Kathryn had sent her back to fulfill.
Today, she helps others at Virginia Beach Psychiatric Center. They talk about drugs, sex, family—really, everything—and how to live. She is also a caregiver, giving back to others in the ways she once needed help herself.
Shelly found her way. She found her spark.
