A Book From an Old Soul Who Died Too Young

Our beautiful 12-year-old daughter Billie was involved in a freak horse accident and died on May 29, 2016. I was just about to turn 50 and up until losing Billie, I would have to have been the happiest person I’ve ever met. I never took my life for granted and can honestly say that I was totally content with everything I had. My husband Dave and my girls, Charlie, 15, and Billie, 12, were my everything.

Then in a blink of an eye, the world turned black and I became the unhappiest person I’ve ever met.  It felt like life without Billie wasn’t really life at all.  She was with me constantly.  She was my mini me, my shadow.  I never knew how much you could love someone until my children came along, how precious life was until Billie left, and how much hurt a person could endure since losing her 18 months ago.

Billie’s death has irrevocably changed me.  It left me feeling isolated and detached.  The world goes on and yet mine stopped dead in its tracks.   Every morning I awake to the reality that Billie is gone and every morning I lay there knowing that I have to choose, do I turn left and get out of bed or turn right and curl up into the pit of grief. Billie’s death has left a huge deep dark hole.  A dry hole so deep that there is no treading water, only the horrific truth that every day I have to claw my way up to the top and be there for Charlie and Dave.

It hurts beyond comprehension and I miss her to the point that the pain paralyses me.  Billie’s death has obliterated the very core of who I was.  I feel like there are two halves to this world: the happy, skip through life and enjoy all it has to offer world, and then on the other side of the median strip, the dark side where so many people live with unhappiness, pain, grief and solitude.  Same world, running parallel, but totally opposite.  Now that I have been catapulted over that line, I no longer understand the world I have lived in for 50 years.  What is it all about? What is it all for? What is the point?

Billie taught me so much about life, loving and giving.  She was an old soul, way beyond her years.  Even as her mother, it still surprises me that she was only 12.  She always wanted to know more, do more and be more yet at the same time was always grateful for everything she had.  She was an extraordinary girl in that she had the gift of giving.   She gave through her smile, her touch, her thoughtfulness, her random acts of kindness and her amazing gift of words.

Billie always wanted to write a book and would often ask her dad and me what she should write about.  After Billie died, we gathered up her poems, stories and artwork in order to fulfill her vision so that her own words can complete her journey.  Billie’s book, hope, has became a reality.

With Billie’s words, we have been given the gift of viewing this world through her eyes, the eyes of a beautiful caring soul, the eyes of innocence, the eyes of belief and hope.  This book opens your heart to see the world just as it should be seen, through love.  Through her amazing gifts of empathy and insight this book is to inspire and give hope to others.

So to answer my question, “What is the point?” I would like to answer with Billie’s words and a few lines from her title poem, “hope”.


There’s no happiness around,

Only sadness abounds

But even if there’s darkness, there can be light

Something’s different, I’ll tell you why

People have given up hope

They’ve found there’s no point in living

but there is, oh there is,

there is a point If you make one.

I have made Billie, our incredible bond and the love we have for each other and our family my point.  I don’t think I even realised the impact Billie’s book would have on people.  I didn’t realise the impact it would have on me.  Billie touched everyone she met and managed to touch even those she didn’t. To hear people tell me that Billie’s words help them to go on, to reach out to others, to start conversations not only about love and family but also about bullying, racism and even death, to connect.  Billie is connecting to people and through her words I feel I can continue to make a difference in the world.  The impact of her words is empowering and changing lives.  Billie is giving hope!

Fly High Billie is currently being set up as a registered charity and I will now make this charity, Billie’s Book, the difference it is making and the hope it is giving, my life’s work.

hope has now sold over 4000 copies in 14 different countries.  My promise to Billie, to spread her words far and wide and to sell more copies of hope than Harry Potter.  For Billie, because she exists in every single part of my body and soul.

For Billie, because there is a point if you make one.



Danny Mayson-Kinder

Danny Mayson Kinder

More Articles Written by Danny Mayson

I am 52 years old. I was a portrait and wedding photographer but am now setting up "end of life photography". I currently live in Wilberforce, Sydney, NSW. Billie my beautiful youngest daughter died in May 2016. Charlie my oldest 17 year old daughter is currently in year 12. Since losing Billie, I have been setting up her charity, Fly High Billie. I put together a selection of Billie's poems, stories and artwork and compiled a wonderful book called "hope". I am currently working on a grief workbook to use alongside "hope" for school age children.


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  • Jennifer Ferguson says:

    I just lost my 14 month old lil girl on march 7 They dont know what happen she was perfectly fine , a lil small but healthy.I have 5 other children, how do wake up make breakfast do baths and hair without her.I prayed for children , thats sll i ever wanted was to be a mom, and my smallest precious one is gone….how do I do holidays like easter when i make myself get up everyday?How do I …please tell me, ive never felt this kinda pain ever in my life..

  • damond c bateman says:

    i know being separated is hard. i have experience with this. forty six years of it. but i have learned something that helps . first off, i have, as long as i can remember have had “psychic” dreams and many paranormal events in my life. i do believe some souls are really, really old and the spirit of each lifetime is a part of that soul. each lifetime is as a chapter in a book. some chapters are longer than others. i have a friend named Rita, who died just before her 17th birthday in an accident. she was so unique and charismatic and kind that everyone in her presence felt it, and do to this day. when i had the first visit from Rita it was about four months after the accident. she was comforting and happy and wanted me to know she was fine. i told no one but my mother. she said my grandmother did this too. made me feel less odd. over the years , the girl stopped by to say hi more times than i can count and she would offer me advice, warnings, and when times were hard Rita would hug me and i felt her presence even awake. other friends told me of their own experiences and that feeling . she has been called an “angelic being”, a “holy being”, a guardian angel. it is always positive and sometimes she offers such insight and has even put a suggestion in my ear on several occasions that saved my life. i listened to the warnings. Rita told me in one dream she loves me so much and hugged me. i said that was nice but by the time i get where she is i will be old enough to be her grandfather.”that doesn’t matter. that’s not important. where i am, age and time mean nothing.” i long ago found her distraught parents could not bring themselves to placing a tombstone for her. so i did it. anonymously. i told nobody. not even my family. i did it not expecting anything. that’s where the dreams got to be even more intense and loving. Rita had given me advice in high school to get out , see the world, do what i wanted to do, use my talents and knowledge. then come back if i wanted to. i took the girl up on her advice and had a great life in the army and i always gave her the credit for giving me the encouragement. her photo has been in my wallet and on display on the bookshelf with the family all these years. her parents were devestated. of six sisters , Rita was the best one , the one they counted on to lead the others . losing her was a blow from which the family never recovered. i kept in touch with them for years, but they never let on , tried to hide their hurt. over the years Rita has told me things that i check out and find to be true. things i had no way to know. that is one strong and old soul. a couple of years ago i contacted her baby sister becky and asked about the parents. they had just passed themselves. we visited and she told me that she once heard mom and Rita talking one night when she was a kid. about 10 freaked her out and she never had the nerve or courage to ask. she said she has seen flashes by her and had vivid dreams as well. but she doesn’t know if she should believe or not. i had grieved for Rita for years , but the dreams and signs helped a lot. after i got reacquainted with becky , now a widow, the dreams and signs got stronger and clearer. i was talking to an acquaintance about this and she suggested i talk to someone i didn’t really know . i asked why? she is a detective. a psychic detective. i thought, ok….well, why not? i contacted her, showed her a photo of the six sister and asked what she could tell me about Rita. no other info. she not only picked her out she told me things about all of the sisters she had no way of knowing, even the little one in front of her is also deceased. and she said : “Rita liked the joke about the storm.” i thought WTF? then it hit me. in 05 i evacuated for hurricane Rita and made my way to where i had lived , to visit Rita and pay my respects. i joke when i talk to her. i said; “sorry its been a while since i came to visit. took a storm with your name on it to get me down here.” there was nobody in sight and i had told nobody i was even there. i was floored. i asked more and realized she was seeing Rita in front of her. she described her rolling her eyes and blushing and used her vocabulary . she said she realized she was dead she went; “im DEAD. bummer. i thought i had longer this time.” i asked , this time? just how many times? how old IS she? “she’s OLD. at least two thousand years. and you have been associated with each other at least a half dozen times. and she wants you to know, it was instantaneous. she didn’t have time to be scared and it didn’t hurt.” i knew this was true. i had read the police and medical examiner’s report. she said Rita was there for her mom and dad in their final days. she sat with her mother, held her hand, stroked her hair, sang to her. off key…..Rita couldn’t sing for anything. she knew. she wanted me to know that when its my time Rita will be there for me as well. she explained that with seniority comes the ability to come back and forth between the worlds. the older the soul the more likely they can talk to us and we can sense their presence, or as in my case talk with them in dreams. i told her nothing that would have given her clues . i tried to catch her on several occasions in making up things. she got put out with me. her grandfather came for her. i kept trying to get her to change that. no. granddad. well, he would have been the only one of the grandparents available. he died 5 years before Rita was born. she said her mom had something to say but wasn’t sure i wanted to hear it. why not? “because she cussed.” TOMMIE? yep. mom had a mouth. she told me and wanted me to tell becky to “get over it. were dead. GD it” 🙂 that was moma tommie without a doubt. Rita is an example of an old, ancient soul, pure and loving and able to manipulate the physical world. i told her i wish her sister could start healing over losing her husband. if she could just get started by taking off the wedding ring. in two hours at most, she was on FB having a fit. one of the diamonds had fallen out of her ring and was gone. she said; “maybe its time to take it off.” wow. this is the kind of thing that just keeps happening all these years. so i firmly believe in the eternal nature of the soul and that old souls not only hear us they can interact with us. if we just keep an open mind and pay attention. Rita got me back here. i was in the houston area and had a vivid three D, full color, stereo sound dream of a catastrophe in the houston ship channel. and that soft familiar voice telling me “i think its time to relocate. move south.” weel i got on fb at three am and told people what i had seen in the dream. people said GET OUT of there! and i did. one week later hurricane harvey wiped out my neighborhood. Rita saved me once again. now i am friends again with the girl who was driving in the accident and it has been an agonizing part of her life since. she opened up to me and i was able to help her start to heal. i think she is starting to believe Rita loves us and doesn’t blame her . it was her time. she left when she did so she could help others in ways she could not have if she was still physically in this world. she is our “pathfinder”, who jumped first and is guiding the rest of us in and protecting us as we go. your Billy may be another Rita. whose job was to be known and loved by a group of people, family and friends, and be the one who watches out for you all and will be there to escort you in when its your time . when tommie passed, the “psychic” toold me her alzheimer’s cleared and she recognized her little girl and said; “well, THERE you are!” becky had told me that when mom’s condition was getting worse she would wander off and they had to go find her. asked why she wandered off she would say; “i was looking for Rita.” well, when she passed she found her Rita. and was happy. i hope that helps explain why i feel like i do and that you enjoyed reading. i need to write a book about this. it is an amazing story that has taken decades to develop. God bless.