The Soul of Rachel Marie Trumpy
- Miles Patrick Yohnke
- 2 days ago
- 17 min read
Updated: 16 hours ago
By Miles Patrick Yohnke
© 2026 All Rights Reserved.
The force of life, filling, filling itself -
With outstretched hands, reaching to something above,
Take me to a place, a place beyond human reach,
A place beyond the sick, beyond the human pain,
Take me to a place.
The force of life, filling, filling itself -
With outstretched hands, reaching to something above,
Take me to a place, a place beyond human reach,
A place beyond the ill, beyond the human will,
Take me to a place -
The soul of Rachel Marie Trumpy.
"I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself" is the title of my 2025 composition for Arthur, Nick and the Cave family - though how I came to its title is part of this composition. In life you will have a number of events that will take place. At the time perhaps, they don't appear as little miracles. But as your life plays out - you'll come to discover the brimful impact of them. Miracles do exist. The simple fact that you are here verifies this.
The year 2025 was dedicated to my dear friend, Julia Cunningham's late father, Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham, who succumbed to cancer in the year of 1991. It was dedicated to him, to not only acknowledge him, but his teachings with his youngest daughter, Julia - who has had a profound impact upon my life. I wanted to dedicate it to him, to also challenge myself - though I didn't know what that would entirely entail.
For the context of this composition, I would like to share with you a letter I received in 2010, after my 2009 composition "Living in Our Own Skin: Peeling Back the Layers" was released through 'Asamanthinketh.net':
Dearest Miles,
I have just received this e-mail from a colleague; I loved it so much. I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW YOU, because I am sure I have a lot to learn from you. I am a religious nun who found it quite interesting, your story. Would you share with me some of your rich knowledge? Thank you. God bless you. With best regards,
- Sr. Priscyla
2025 would bring my sixty-second birthday on October 11th. Over the last sixty-one years I've tried to make a deeper connection to not only God, but myself, those around me--and too, nature. To all the wonderment of God's miraculous-inspired makings. I wanted to not only slow down every aspect within myself but to be meticulously present in the moment.
Early in 2025, God allowed me to write the contents of 'Mission: Possible: Our Perspective.' Both then and now I don't completely know how that level of content came about. I am so grateful for it. For if read and embraced it can truly create World Peace.
2025 continued with fascination provided by God. I knew I had to write a composition for the Cave family to mark ten years since fifteen-year-old Arthur Cave went to be with our Heavenly Father. I started writing the composition in my mind months before the July 14th date. I wrote down little aspects I wanted to explore and cover. And too, along the way - I wrote down what I thought would be the title: "Where You End Is Where I Begin."
With my bicycle I started visiting Julia's father, Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham's resting place at the Hillcrest cemetery here in Saskatoon in 2024, including on my sixty-first birthday on October 11th. I would sit on the grass in front of his tombstone and just reflect on it all. Often hours would pass. It was always hard to leave.
In 2025, by bicycle I started visiting once again. Once when snow was still on the ground and there were no signs of Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham's tombstone; or anyone for that matter. Then spring came -- snow melted -- and I visited like I did in 2024. On one occasion about two months before July 14th and my story for the Cave family had to be done -- I was sitting on the grass -- hours passed. When I finally got up - God spoke to me. He told me to walk back two rows - in a direct line. He said: "My child, I have something for you." And there it was: "Rachel Marie Trumpy." She was born on my twenty-fifth birthday, October 11, 1988. And she went to be with our Heavenly Father on February 7, 2008. She was just nineteen. And on her tombstone reads: "I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself."
The force of Rachel Marie Trumpy's tombstone hit me like how the Bhola cyclone struck East Pakistan (present-day Bangladesh) and India's West Bengal. It too felt like a full circle moment (though it would take a few more months to extensively learn the level of God's great plan). Reading 'I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself' felt like my own mantra. Like if https://yohnke.com had a motto that would be it. I also knew this would be the title for the Cave family story. And seeing it - I couldn't really believe what God was granting me. And too, I had profound sadness. I had guilt as well. That Rachel came into the world on my twenty-fifth birthday. That she never saw her twentieth birthday. And here I am. I'm staring at Rachel Marie Trumpy's tombstone. And Miles Patrick Yohnke is still physically alive.
In my 2015 poem titled: "The Final Act" I write that God is the screenwriter. That He brings all His actors together, though often the script has not been completely understood, nor totally read by the lead actors. And here I am. His plan for me.
On my return home I used my search engine of choice and typed in: "Rachel Marie Trumpy." I learned she died suddenly. And in Victoria B.C. And here 2025 is dedicated to Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham, and when he succumbed to cancer in the year of 1991, his youngest daughter, Julia, was also nineteen, and she was also living in Victoria B.C., and she was attending the very same university as Rachel Marie Trumpy. And here Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham, Julia Cunningham's father rests feet away from Rachel Marie Trumpy.
God has a plan for you. He has a plan for me. And yet, it takes time to totally learn the vastness of it all.
When I was observing Rachel Marie Trumpy's tombstone, I also thought of another life that physically ended far too soon on August 8, 1988.
In reading and learning more about the life of Rachel Marie Trumpy--I could feel the force of her spiritual depth--and the depth of her family. She was an insightful young woman, that was evident. And too, she loved music - just like me. Rachel loved performing music just like Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham's youngest daughter, Julia. Julia Cunningham--the Saskatoon born and raised life grew to see her play in more than twenty nations, appearing on some of the most famous stages in the world: Carnegie Hall, the Royal Albert Hall, St. Petersburg's Mariinsky Theatre; the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow, and even – in front of Pope John Paul II – at the Vatican.
And here, Rachel Marie Trumpy rests just feet away from Julia's father, Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham. In Your infinite wisdom and boundless love, we come before you.
I would finish and release the composition for Arthur, Nick and the Cave family: "I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself."
Then shortly after - God presented another miraculous miracle. The details of that life that physically ended on August 8, 1988, would manifest itself thirty-seven years later. I would come to learn her name again and bicycle 1400 kilometers or 870 miles over five days to visit her resting place and tombstone and write her short story titled: "The Light of Margaret Anne Dempsey."
In her short story we learn Margaret Anne Dempsey was born thirteen days before me on September 28, 1963. And just at the age of twenty-four had removed all falseness of self. That the schoolteacher was volunteering that summer at Hastings Lake Bible Camp near Edmonton Alberta in my home country of Canada. And on a late sunny Monday morning eighteen-year-old Ruth Gibson fell asleep behind her steering wheel and crossed the centre line and physically killed Margaret Anne Dempsey on August 8, 1988.
When I released 'I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself' I thought about reaching out to Rachel Marie Trumpy's family and telling them all about what I've mentioned here though my gut told me: "You're forcing it. Just let it happen naturally."
Saturday, October 11, 2025, was my sixty-second birthday. It also was our Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. Thanksgiving in the dictionary means: The expression of gratitude, especially to God. I knew I was going to bicycle and visit Julia's father and Rachel. What would have been Rachel's thirty-seventh birthday. I was going to visit in the afternoon. That morning, I thought wouldn't it be nice to run into Rachel Marie Trumpy's family out there, and I caught myself: "You're forcing it again, get those thoughts out of your mind." And I did. I met up with my editor, friend, and Rose Litman Award Winner, Indigo Brodie, at 11:30 a.m. He presented me with chocolate cupcakes from Calories Restaurant here in Saskatoon. I then visited with a number of people. They had no idea it was my birthday. Then I went out to the cemetery - as I was nearing the tombstones, I saw a woman sitting on the grass - just like I do when I'm there. And I just knew it was Rachel's mother. I parked my bicycle up against some bushes like I do. A direct line to the tombstones. About fifty to seventy feet away. And under our land of the living skies, the woman sat comfortably as I approached her. She didn't get all awkward. She was one with self. One with God. We know that from reading Rachel's obituary. Substantial spiritual depth is found. And I sat down on the grass next to her - Sheila, as I would learn, and I told her the story I've told you here calmly and quietly.
From her bed in Victoria, where Rachel lived on her own to go to college, she text-messaged her father in Saskatoon saying: "I'm scared." Sheila booked a flight to go see her, not because she thought Rachel was in serious danger, but to be there for her. No one knew it, not the parents and certainly not the clinic that treated her just hours before her death, but her lungs were filling up. She had undiagnosed pneumonia, and with no goodbyes from her friends and family, Rachel Marie Trumpy died.
Sheila told me that she had read her journal. Rachel had entries. Like she knew. And one of the last entries was: "I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself."
Sheila spoke like me. Calm. Quiet. It was like we had known each other our whole lives. We sat for some time. And then came Catherine Kroeger behind us. Sheila said: "Oh, Catherine, Rachel's best friend is here with her two boys (five and seven)." Catherine sat down on the grass with us. Catherine's well-behaved sons just quietly roamed around. I explained who I was. Catherine showed us her tattoo on her asking skin. It reads: "I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself." Some time passed on that very warm October 11th afternoon. Sheila left with the two boys; the youngest wore eyewear just like I did near his age. His demeanour was much like my own as well. Catherine told me all about her and Rachel. Catherine said -- I told my husband this: "Rachel is my soul mate." She said: "Sounds silly, doesn't it?" "No, I get it," I replied. I had told Sheila earlier, now Catherine, that I can feel Rachel's soul in me. That she isn't really dead. She lives on in me, you, anyone that is really connected to God.
I never told Sheila or Catherine about the depths of 'I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself' or 'The Light of Margaret Anne Dempsey' but to read them. That they relate with Rachel. That they relate with our conversation. I did tell them to take a good look at my bicycle. I had ridden the 1987 celeste green Bianchi to visit with Rachel and Julia's father. I did this as they'd see how it was woven into the one story, and that I have a long history riding a bicycle. That it even appears in another human beings' dream.
With their newly bought groceries unfreezing in their vehicle, Catherine and the boys finally left. Then Sheila. What a magical, God-given time. I then sat on the grass in front of Julia's father's tombstone. More time passed. Then I finally got up - it's hard to leave. As I neared my bicycle I saw a box in the middle. On top of my water bottle cages. I pulled out the box and inside was a large slice of carrot cake. I'd imagine Sheila had brought it out for herself. That she was going to sit and have it with Rachel. But I came along. And when I was talking with Catherine, Sheila and the boys placed it there.
I slowly bicycled home. I was just savouring what had all happened. When I got home, I didn't eat the carrot cake - I just went to bed. I suppose it was going on 6 p.m. - I really don't know. I was just lost in it all - I didn't even remember it was my own birthday by this point. The next day I savoured each bite of the carrot cake. I reflected and treasured the day that came before.
Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day. October 11, 2025, was my best birthday!
I mentioned going to bed and savouring it. Back in 2009 I wrote the article 'Living in Our Own Skin: Peeling Back the Layers.' And in 2012, I wrote an article all on the importance of sleep. I wrote the well-received 'Under the Covers' to make sleeping cool. I wrote about all the benefits of sleeping. That said, sleep was just that. Sleep.
But early in 2025 sleep became far more. And I talk about peeling back our own layers.
"It's not the note you play that's the wrong note – it's the note you play afterwards that makes it right or wrong," said Miles Davis. For some reason, when I read that quote back in the time Margaret Anne Dempsey physically helped people - I changed it up a little. I used it to foster a change within other human lives. I told people it's the note within the note. Like in the silence of that note screamed whatever you like. You place the note of your own imagination into it. The note within the note. But that too could come from the breath within the breath. It was just peeling back the layers of our own self. Going to a deeper place.
And I found my own sleep going to a far deeper exploration in early 2025. It was like an extension to my time awake. It just became another realm. Another dimension to my day. In fact, I couldn't wait to sleep to see what it would bring. As my sleep was filled with dreams which filled with ideas and thoughts. I'd wake up and realize they could be woven into my writings and such. My sleep became invaluable tools for those times that I was awake. In fact, those thoughts and ideas were also to deepen the souls of other beings, as much as it was for myself.
In one dream, I was told to use that quote above from Sr. Priscyla. And in that dream came the direction and the narrative for this composition. That dream also told me to include these words from August 2010 that I received from Mike Murphy - a guitar player for GRAMMY, JUNO, CCMA & SCMA Award Winners:
"Drawing from his own personal challenges in life, Miles Patrick Yohnke has been teaching others along his journey to not accept second best and demand more of themselves in the way they live their lives and treat their fellow man. By speaking to others about his many inner struggles, Miles has been nurturing changes in attitudes and accountability. By demonstrating and teaching his many adaptation and coping mechanisms, to countless people throughout the years, he has been trying to change mainstream mindsets one mind at a time. He is a tireless advocate for truth and excellence in the arts, film, music, sport, and human interaction. One may ask themselves why would he do this and be so dedicated to these and all their causes? Miles is a very deep thinker and a very spiritual person.
The answers are numerous but the one underlying common thread that weaves his life together is he never wants another to endure the abuse he went through as a child with learning challenges who was ridiculed. To come to grips with this, he dove deep into human emotion and discovered many of the reasons others ridicule.
Through this learning process, he also uncovered why people act negatively towards themselves and others and began to challenge others and inspire them to look deep into their souls and get in touch with the real person they are, not the person whom media, corporate hypnotics, and greed are trying to keep under control to be spoon-fed worthless values and thus buying into illusional euphoria.
Miles wants people to dig deep into their being. To question who they are and what is their purpose in life. By doing so they will be on the road to true self-worth which will help to shape the world into a better place. This in turn will help them achieve their goals both personally and professionally. This covers love, family, career, and most of all hope. Hope for so many lost souls who are so much in need of self-discovery.
If there is one thing that Miles would be proud of as an accomplishment or as a legacy, it would be that he inspired people to think and that he made his parents proud by leading a useful life by serving others."
God had governed me to those words from Mike Murphy to give you a better understanding to why I exist. Why I get up. Too, even though they were written over fifteen years ago I never stopped peeling back my own layers. I've been constantly trying to go to a deeper state of existence.
My last words to Sheila Trumpy were: "I don't know if I can write anymore. That if I could say anything more than I have in 'Mission: Possible: Our Prescriptive,' 'The Light of Margaret Anne Dempsey' & 'I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself.'" I knew these compositions had the human transformation required to create World Peace. But saying it, I knew I had another story. I kind of knew I wanted to write "The Soul of Rachel Marie Trumpy" before that day, but I didn't entirely know what it would entail. I knew to wait. That God would guide me. I knew in my next breath to Sheila I was going to write a composition with her youngest daughter, Rachel, though I never told Sheila. I knew walking to my 1987 celeste green Bianchi bicycle that I'd write the tetralogy - the fourth movement. The final movement.
And it seemed most appropriate that I would get ill over the holiday season of 2025. The worst I've ever been. There were forty hours where I just slept. I just got up from time to time to go to the washroom and to sip water from a glass that was on my nightstand next to my bed. I've never slept so much. I've never been so weak in all of my life. And it carried on for nearly seven days. Christmas Day was the sickest of the days. It too brought much thought of Dorothy Dolores Dempsey, Margaret's mother. It was in my own breath to breath that I could feel for the first time the gut-wrecking loss that Dorothy must have felt Christmas 1988. What she must feel each and every Christmas. And I too thought about Rachel's parents, Sheila and Dennis, and the entire Trumpy family; that includes Rachel's six siblings.
Let us try to recognize the precious nature of each day. Although I was sick, and oh so very weak - it was the best Christmas of my entire life. My condition allowed me to go further within myself. It allowed me to think and feel of others in a different realm. As much of the loss Margaret's mother, Dorothy Dolores Dempsey must feel, too, comes the infinite joy that her daughter, Margaret had removed all falseness of self. And because she did, she will always remain alive to us. Margaret was the true definition of 'I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself.' I myself know death intimately with the tragic physical death of my own father when I was age five. We have to harass and work with our pain. Work with our loss. We cannot avoid it. We cannot avoid our trauma. We have to entirely embrace it to be the best versions of ourselves. Not only for the health and wellbeing of ourselves - but those around us - and everyone we encounter.
And Sheila, the Trumpy family. Here Sheila gifted me her carrot cake. We are not defined by our vacations. We are not defined by our vehicles. We are not defined by our house. We are not defined by our income. We are defined by what we become. We become stewards of society that move society forward in a loving matter. This is the true definition of 'I Will Live for Something Greater Than Myself.'
As mentioned in the short story 'The Light of Margaret Anne Dempsey' Margaret was born thirteen days before me. Both of our mothers were pregnant at the same time. And when Margaret Anne Dempsey went to be with our Heavenly Father on August 8, 1988, Sheila Trumpy was pregnant with Rachel Marie Trumpy.
Your body. My body. Body of Christ. We will never again have the chance to be born into a body like this one.
God's work is multifaceted and involves various aspects of creation, providence, and redemption. Like my experiences - you will also have experiences like this that will happen to you. Maybe some have played out--and you haven't connected them. Maybe you're of an age where you haven't wholly lived but I assure you, they are coming.
You often read in my compositions about taking care of yourself. That it allows you to do so much. Like bicycling 1400 kilometers or 870 miles over five days. And if you get a flat tire and need to walk 50 kilometers or 30 miles you can facilitate it. You become boundless.
To have a meaningful and purposeful life you have to remove the falseness of self like we read about with Margaret Anne Dempsey.
You have to peel back your own layers to find your true self. Your true worth.
On the last day of 2025 I had a dream I was babysitting a young girl. I was holding her hand. She was looking up at me. She had beautiful eyes. And her eyes said that she adored me. I babysat her a lot. And it was always the same. Me gripping her hand. And her looking up with adornment. And she grew. She grew into a beautiful young woman. And still I was gripping her hand. And she gripped mine. And now she didn't need to look up. She looked directly into my eyes. She had the same appreciation. She still adored me. And in the breath between breath. Within the grip of our hands was - don't get pregnant - don't give yourself away. Then I woke up.
I knew that little child - that young woman was Rachel Marie Trumpy.
This is another example of how our Heavenly Father is present within us. He manifests in our sleep. Our wake time. He is present. And because we allow it - we go to places within that allow us to be thoroughly alive - we truly exist. God is the ultimate Creator, whose power and wisdom are displayed in the universe's creation. Within each one of us.
When I started 2025 - I didn't know what it would entirely entail - I just knew I wanted to dedicate the year to the late Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham. To honour his existence. I hoped to take my own life to places and a plane I had never reached before. And as 2025 was playing out I couldn't believe all the wonderment that God was providing my existence.
Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham started his dental clinic 'McEown Avenue Dental Clinic' here in Saskatoon, Canada in 1968. McEown Avenue Dental Clinic is feet away from Holy Cross High School. And when Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham opened his dental clinic in 1968 my father was tragically and physically killed. My two older brothers Ken and Bob were attending Holy Cross High School at the time. So many of the Holy Cross High School students attended my father's funeral. And later, Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham's own five children attended Holy Cross High School, including his youngest daughter and child, Julia. And Rachel Marie Trumpy went to Holy Cross High School. And Rachel Marie Trumpy and Dr. Joseph Patrick Cunningham rest feet apart from each other.
God has a plan for you. He has a plan for me. And yet, it takes time to totally learn the level of it all.
The wonderment of God in our existence is a profound aspect of faith that invites us to reflect on the beauty and complexity of the world around us. From the majesty of the heavens to the intricate details of nature, every element speaks of God's greatness and intentionality. As we observe these wonders, we are reminded of God's presence and the divine purpose behind every creation. This sense of wonder can lead to spiritual growth, deepen our faith, and inspire us to appreciate the world in a new way.
At the beginning of 2026 'The Soul of Rachel Marie Trumpy' was written with God's hands. To coincide with the eighteenth anniversary of Rachel Marie Trumpy being with our Heavenly Father. She has been physically gone almost as long as she was physically alive. Though she is still alive. She will always remain alive by how we fill up our fellow humans with love, empathy and compassion. How we constantly peel back our own layers. How we find the note within the note. How we find our human notes to our own existence.
Fill me up. Fill me up. Fill me up, Heavenly Father - I will live for something greater than myself Fill me up. Fill me up. Fill me up, Heavenly Father - I will live to create Peace on Earth! Fill me up. Fill me up. Fill me up, Heavenly Father - I will remove all falseness of self! Fill me up. Fill me up. Fill me up, Heavenly Father - set my spirit free! Fill me up. Fill me up. Fill me up, Heavenly Father - set my body free! Fill me up. Fill me up. Fill me up, Heavenly Father - set my soul free! Fill me up. I'm free! I'm free! I'm free, Heavenly Father! The soul of Rachel Marie Trumpy - I will live for something greater than myself!
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