“There is no greater gift we can give a person than helping them make amends before they pass. It is our job to help them feel safe enough to write down their thoughts and feelings toward those who they may have wronged and let go of their guilt and shame.”

Bethanny faced us and smiled. “That they entrust us with taking the letters of amends and let us send them to their loved ones … that’s powerful,” she said. “And it’s a chance to give their souls freedom.”

It felt powerful to know I could be privy to someone’s worst actions. But the thought also filled me with guilt and shame. I didn’t want to hold anything over anyone—especially not our clients.

But it was hard not to admit there was something remarkable about being able to have this kind of access to where someone was most tender.

7.

When I got home, the apartment was empty, and I didn’t even turn on any lights as I made my way to the bedroom. But I was worried about what kind of dreams I would have.

A year before I started working with Bethanny, my father had just finished recuperating from his first hospital stay when I suggested we take a family trip to the desert. I flew into El Paso and we took off from there. Though I didn’t want the trip to feel like it could be our last, it took on the tone of being crucial anyway. Residue from that trip had plagued my dreams since.

My father’s dreams had been fighting dreams for as long as he could remember. I could relate, because my dreams had so often been consumed with terror that I frequently moaned and wept in my sleep. Bobby didn’t know what was happening the first time. He just shook me awake, terrified. In my father’s dreams he was always fighting people who had wronged him.