Excerpt from "First to the Last Breath"
They say that your life flashes before you in the instant before
you die. I think this might be true. It is supposedly at this time
that everything makes sense and that even the smallest, most minute
piece of every single event is seen through the eyes of truth. I have
been there, and although it was not my near-death experience (so
to speak); it was the vision of my nineteen-year-old son lying in a
casket. There before my eyes laid my son. My baby; one of the most
precious friends I could have ever had, my reason for living. My
Christopher.
Stoic as I looked down at my son, I began to recall his laughter
and the funny way he would glance up at me, one eye closed and
the other squinting, a smile that only curved one side of his lips. I
touched his lips and recalled the many kisses they provided, always
happy to kiss his momma. I remembered how it tickled me when
he was able to kiss for the first time. It’s hard for a baby to learn to
pucker. I looked at his lips for a long time, and at one point, I almost
felt as if they were going to move and mouth the words, “I love you,
Momma,” but they didn't.
About the title of this book...
I was tired of crying, tired of thinking, tired of breathing, I was just too tired to
go on. Arriving home I welcomed my bed, it was Christmas day and we had
traveled for what seemed like eternity. That night I slept hard but that was
the last night of rest for weeks to come, little did I know that a vision would
plague my night and days to follow, a vision so hurtful, that it was as if it were
burned into my brain.
The vision as I called it, was as if it were in front of my eyes, yet closing my
eyes didn't shield them, It was my son's...........Last Breath.  I was witnessing
his chest sink as it expelled all the air that was contained within, through his
beautiful lips.  It would be weeks before I realized that this vision was my
closure, for I was being allowed to be with my son, from the "First to the Last
Breath".

Lisa Willhite
Just some thoughts here
This morning as I awoke I recalled having a dream of sorts. It was so interesting to me as well
as my husband, here is what I dreamt:
I dreamt that I was just having a wonderful dream about nothing, just happy and relaxed, and
as I rolled over I saw my husband tossing and turning. It was then that I spoke to him in my
mind and in soothing words asked him to "let me describe my dream state to you using the
beautiful words that exist here, and you will then be able to join me".
I have never had a dream quite like that and whenever I told my husband about it he expressed
how wonderful it made him feel that I was inviting him into my other world too.
Have you ever had a dream of such? I would love to hear about a dream that you had that was
bizarre to say the least or a dream that someone you know had. I am fascinated by dreams of
every kind. Please write me if you feel like you want to share them! I will try my hardest to
respond if you ask, as soon as possible. You know if "God's willin' and the creek don't rise".
Until We speak again, remember to talk to your angels, they're listening!
Lisa
Friday, June 16, 2006
Good, good morning
As I am stirred in the morn by the un mistaken sound of the alarm, I am still fatigued. My brain
begins to scan my memory for appointments that may or may not exist. Is this a day of work, or can
I lie in bed for awhile? Glancing at the clock I recognize the time a seven am, I can sleep for at
least fifteen more minutes, I justify, as I hit the snooze button. It is at this time that usually I will do
one of two things, worry and fret that it will ring again, or fall back into a very deep sleep.
This day I am filled with anxiety. No schedules to speak of but a need to arise and face the
morning, why? I reach again and turn off the alarm before I stumble from the bed, everything is in
my way, it seems as though even the floor is against me. The trek to the kitchen is longer than
ever before as I curse the cat an dog alike. They want outside. I have to have coffee, lots of it and
it takes too long to make, even instant on these days. I am so tired, body and mind and this causes
me to focus entirely now on the coffee brewing before me. The smell entices my lips to savor it's
warmth and richness, as I take a quick careful sip I begin to feel better, but it will take a bit more to
fully revive me.
With coffee in hand I take steps that aren't quite so clumsy any more, toward the door, that will
lead me to the porch, that has always provided me with the relaxation in time of need. I am in need
this morning, for what is it that would beckon a soul to miss the sounds of the beautiful birds and
the crisp morn air? Whatever it is, can grab a hold of one and make them prefer slumber as
opposed to God's new day.
Contemplation now as I sit.
Good morning Jesus, I am sorry.
Now as I hold my daily talk with the one true friend I have come to know and I remark as I
speak aloud, that if it's humbleness he wants, he's got it. I then begin to wonder if perhaps I
am not a bit too humble in a sorts. I put my life into his hands, My trust is untainted that he will
provide for me, but what in the hell am I doing?
Beginning now to get my own point, I recall the reason I had set the alarm, I was disgusted
with my self for achieving so little in the precious time that I was allowed by God, I was
wasting his generosity. I put myself in his shoes, in my fantasy I gave a day, with all of it's
splendor to another, and they chose to become depressed with life so the flittered away the
beautiful day. I felt as though they were missing the most important time as well, the time of
awakening, the time of day that could quite possibly rejuvenate their spirit,. In their slumber
they missed my good morning.
"Good morning Jesus," I now felt the urge to say,
"good morning to you as well, my wonderful angels. And good morning to my beautiful son
that resides with you now." "
Oh how I love you all with all of my heart. I dedicate this day to you. I hope that you can sit
back and trust that I will provide you with a bit of relaxation today!"
With all of my heart and soul
Lisa, Christopher's mom1:53 pm pdt
Practically every author will tell you that there is
a story behind the title of every book they write,
so......
Christopher William
Hackler
01/18/1982 -12/06/2001
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
EXCERPT FROM "FIRST TO THE LAST BREATH" Lisa Willhite
No one slept that night, yet everyone awoke in the morning. It was a rude awakening. Whenever
the coldness of a cloudy night makes way, after hours upon hours of darkness, for the bright
warming sunshine of a new day, you would expect the warmth to envelope you. To take you in
it's arms and caress your thoughts, providing you with that feeling of jubilation that gives us all
the spirit to continue on, yet in times like these your bones stay chilled. It is as if the sunshine is
nothing more than a picture, painted with no depth, no substance to mention. It almost seems, at
times, as though it taunts you, "sure, believe that it's a beautiful world, I won't let you down," It
says, "I am always here". The birds sing harmony, but it sounds like noise. Whenever the
squirrels chatter, it makes you feel as though you never noticed the extent of their audacity
before. Yes upon awakening, that momentary lapse in memory function that allows us all a
seconds worth of fantasy, a second of thought, that comforts us with lies, that have at some
point led us to believe it was all a bad dream, disappears into the ugly world of un-mistaken
reality. It is at this time that we curse the world and all of it's inhabitants, we curse it because we
expect it to stop spinning, we expect time to stand still, for our worlds have definitely stopped
to recognize the loss of one of it's spirits. How dare the world continue on in this time of such
great sorrow.11:17 am pdt
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
My Battle
As the darkest part of the day begins to make way for the early morning kiss of sunshine, I
awaken to the subtleness of the morn. My consciousness is not yet prepared to face the light as
it beckons my eyes to close, gingerly, ever so softly, to steal yet a few more moments of
slumber. The calling is flirtatious and welcomed as I snuggle in with warmth, yet, at times, I curse
the act, for it is often at this state of being that I am forced to acknowledge the inner workings of
my subconscious, that part of me, that I try very hard at times, for whatever purpose, to
suppress and lock away in a hell fitting. That my subconscious is hard at work is undeniably
evident as I lay vulnerable, guard down, doors temporarily unlocked. I sometimes become
fearful of the sight before my eyes. My thoughts, desires and dreads, before me, animated with
sound, emotion and color, and played by actors that are familiar to me, though sometimes not.
What does it all mean. Is it symbolic or does it reek of truth. What now do I do, should I warn,
fear, or capture it and force it into the hell hole that I had previously designed just for it's kind.
Dreams that aren't and nightmares in the morn, how out of sync. I will be compelled by strong
forces to get up immediately and not only face the day, but face the "what it's" that the horrible
scene surmises. Contemplation begins as I awkwardly scramble to get a bearing of reality. A cup
of coffee and a walk outside provides this moment of re-familarsation. I am now faced with what
to do, what did I see, was it nothing more than a dream. Plagued by my uncertainty, I will begin to
rationalize, using my conscious state, and the battle will begin, who knows which will win.
Lisa Willhite11:22 am pdt
I believe that: The search for true religious convictions is relevant to the individual.
As with all growth, I feel we must shed that which confines our souls and hampers further
enlightenment. It is in this day of the age in our society that many feel the confining walls to
be constructed partially with the materials put forth by the every-changing organized religious
movements that helped to rear us. Allowing these walls to crumble and be reconstructed by
the wisdom and the part of God existing within us will most likely allow an end to the hypocrisy
and emotional turmoil that is eating us as individuals and a society alive.
It is my shear belief that a person would not commit a "sin" if they truly believed with all of
their heart and soul that it would condemn them to an eternal hell.
Sometimes, late at night I look at this website and my life and see not only growth but an eternal
bond that just continues to build upon the past.   I just rocked my sweet grandbaby to sleep and
kissed his angelic face, I now find myself, once again, missing my son Chris.  Littleman's ears look
just like Chris' did and his smile.....
I realize more and more that whenever I keep my grandbaby, which is usually once a week, that I
tune into Chris' favorite song, Night Moves.  I cry and remember him as if he were here just
yesterday, singing along and rocking his head to the beat.  This will probably never stop, and
that's okay.  Christopher gave me his unconditional, everlasting love to get me through these
times.    I rely on it and the God granted memories to get me through the days.