Yesterday, Steve, one of my closest friends shared an experience he had with his deceased father. Even though he’s read my book about the afterlife Steve kept his secret to himself.
Steve’s father was a classic; successful, hardworking, always away from home, divorced, not particularly approving of his son. Steve rebelled against his father pretty much all his life. As he put it,
“Before my father died, I tried to get away with doing as little as possible in life, especially when it came to work. I didn’t want to be like my father and I probably wanted him to know it.
Surprisingly, a few days after he died, I had an opening. In one quick moment I felt him transmitting abilities and knowledge to me…things I had resisted learning my whole life. Now that my father was dead I was somehow able to receive them.
I began focusing on what I was doing at work, paying a lot of attention to detail, wanting to do my best. In a short time my business zoomed. I guess my dad taught me in death what he wasn’t able to teach me in life.”
Maybe Steve never told me this because he thought it was weird. Maybe he hadn’t put the pieces together until now. Maybe you’ve had some sort of experience that wants to be told.
Would you like to share? Please tell your story in a few short paragraphs
I’m not sure how exactly to “share” my experience, but both my grandfather and my grandmother have visited me on different occasions. The first time this happened, I was around 16 and my grandfather strolled by the doorway of my room. I instantly woke up with excitement and yelled “Grandpa!” He backed up and looked over at me and smiled, then moved on. While he didn’t exactly speak with words, he communicated that he was okay and very happy.
When I was in my 40’s, my grandmother passed away at 93. I took care of her for a bit before my mother decided to place her in a home. Early one morning I had a vivid dream and watched my grandmother walk past the livingroom (I was sleeping there with my spouse on the floor, because my spouse was extremely ill with a disease called Coccidiomycosis or Valley Fever & could not get upstairs to our bedroom).
I ran over to my grandma & again was so excited. I touched her and she was warm. Although her mouth didn’t move, she said 5 words to me that brought me comfort during this difficult time…”you did a good job”. I don’t know if she meant taking care of her, my spouse or something else, but it filled me with peace and put to rest the “What ifs”.
And I looked over in the kitchen and could see my spouse was up & making some coffee, just like it used to be. This was a vision of what was to come and my spouse overcame the disease after many months to years of battle. Every once in a great while, she returns and shows her presence by flickering on and off the lights or honking my car horn. Although I haven’t “seen” her except for the one time, I can feel her presence.
Love to you all….
Terrie
Thank you Annie for your amazing book that I’ve been drowned into for the last couple of days .. !
I have a little short story which astounded us when we heard it (15 years ago) and I was the only one who believed where it came from ..
One day we were seating in the car, my 3 year old daughter being on the back seat, together with a friend of ours who had just lost her husband from stroke.
That friend was grieving and we could feel the weight of her pain when she was with us ..
Then, completely out of the blue, my 3 year old suddenly said : “death is a new sun !” ..
This message coming out of her little mouth triggered such positive energy and smiles, joy even!, and deep inside of me, I sincerely hoped our grieving friend “got the message”..which to me was likely to be sent from her deceased husband.
(but this you cannot share when you are with people who are just not ready to listen to or believe it)..
Just want to say thanks a million for sharing your knowledge. I got the book last night and I just could not put it down. I read the book throughout the night. It was illuminating, fascinating and most of all the book personally illuminated my own spirituality. God bless you and God bless Billy wherever he is. Thanks for sharing, thanks for putting your thoughts on paper and may God continue to strengthen you and all those who seek knowledge and those who strive to share the knowledge and insights they have gained through personal experience(s).
PS: Was so much touched about your experience in Jamaica and the spreading of the ashes and the person who helped you climb the river fall (i.e Willie). All I can say is that may you continue to experience deep and everlasting peace. …and say THANK YOU to Billie if he ever communicates again. By the way, I feel you should share your knowledge about how to meditate. I for one would love to know how to achieve an inner state of peace and tranquility. (I cant run away from the city into the surburbs…I leave in the desert here (Riyadh, Saudi Arabia)…..(lol)
God bless and thank you again one more time for sharing.
I Dont know why I am asking, but I also hope Tex is fine – even though I don’t know her, may God bless her and give her continuous strength to continue doing whatever she is doing. Its is all for the greater good.
My son passed away almost 2 months ago. I am waiting for him to come to me and tell me he is ok. I have had odd things happen like a song I just fell in love with, be playing on the radio when I am thinking about it because of my son. A light flickered 3 long and slow times after I spent an hour crying and asking him to tell me he is ok.
But I am afraid that I am so grief stricken that my mind is playing tricks with me. I am afraid that I want to feel him with me so much that my mind is reading more into these things and that they are just nothing. But my light had never done that before and has not done it since. I don’t know. I just miss my son and wishing on a star.
My parents did not know how to show love to me growing up. I was the middle child and struggled in every aspect of my life. My mother used drugs and alcohol to numb herself. I absolutely adored and looked like my father. There were a few times he showed amazing unconditional love. I went to college and was on my own. I made a beautiful life for myself but always grieved for my Dad who would have nothing to do with me or my wonderful family. I couldn’t understand why I was so attached to a person that rarely showed me any love. As life went on I always new my Dad would come around. He would one day get to know his beautiful grandchildren. Then he passed away at only 68. I never got to say goodbye or understand how he appeared to have no feelings for me. I felt like the ultimate victim. A sweet person who never had family that was non existent. I had so much anger. My dream was over.
Six months after my father passed he came to me in a dream. He stood at my right side with my grandfather behind him. He looked so young and beautiful. The love was something that doesn’t exist here. My whole body was filled with an abundance of love, joy, for myself and everyone, and everything. My father had tears as we witnessed together every struggle I experienced alone since birth. As we watched all I felt was peace and so very loved and full of forgiveness. There was no judgement either. Since that evening my father is the most amazing father in the universe. I have 100’s of stories. Everything that Billy shares I already knew. These thoughts come to me telepathically but until I read this book I had no proof. This is the first time someone is speaking a language that my father is shaing. They, my father, grandfather, and others say that I am to let others know life is eternal. They have helped me help others in their darkest hours. When I do this I am out of my comfort zone and feel nervous. The responses I receive are so amazing and beautiful I cry tears of joy. I believe I had to experience a very difficult early life to have the compassion and understand true forgiveness. I have walked in many shoes and feel we are all one. My life today is like a dream I never could have dreamt. I found hope and self love and courage from my father above.
Five years ago if someone told me my story, my truth, I would think they we’re crazy! Ha!
Thank you for bringing the proof my human mind calls for so often.
Xoxo
Beautiful story. Good for you! So happy you get to experience this. My father appears to me in dreams sometimes, and I also receive signs and symbols. I don’t know what to make of them, but I always look forward to receiving them. My father passed in 1999, and he wasn’t a very “participating” father in my life, but I still loved him very much. I enjoyed your story. God Bless you and what you do to help people believe. 🙂
The most significant person in my life, my maternal grandfather died Nov. 25, 1969. Three years after he died, I went to a house party with a guy I was dating. I knew no one but him, and because I could not dance, he left me at the door without introducing me to any one. I ended up in the living room of the house, where there where two women, obvisously girlfriends, gossiping about someone at the party, and a couple on a love seat that you wanted to say to, “Ya’ll need to go get a motel room.”
I saw a chair in this room, that back then was called a Huey P. Newton chair. A big wicker chair that looked like a throne. I had always wanted one and had never even set in one. So sitting down in the chair I began to fantasize about being the Queen of Sheba and the folks in the room with me were my subjects, just to pass the time.
As I sat there bored out of my mind, having had no drugs or alcohol, suddenly the room went completely dark. My first thought was, “Oops, somebody did not pay the electric bill. Then I thought how very dark the room was and being afraid of the dark, I felt fear. But then a warm breeze seemed to pass over me, and I felt as safe as if I were in my mother’s arms. As my fear vanished, I focused in on how dark it was and thought, “I bet I can’t even see my hand in front of my face, it is so dark. I raised my hand and fanned it in front of my face to make sure I raised it; that I was not dreaming or something. I felt the air coming off of my hand but I could not see it. As I continued to stare into the darkness, I saw what looked like a pin point of light several feet in front of me.
The pin point of light seemed to be moving toward me and growing larger. Then the Light seemed to be three blobs of Light moving toward me in a pyramid form and then it was like I put my glasses on and I could then make out the lead person walking toward me, it was my maternal grandfather, dead three years now. As I made him out, I made the person behind him to his right out, my maternal great-grandmother, whom I was close to and she died when I was four, the other person to his left, his brother, my great uncle who died when I was in the eighth grade. When I made my great uncle, I thought, “Oh my God, I must be dead.” My grandfather, openned his arms to me and telephathically said to me, “Yes, baby, this is death.”
I said to him, this can’t be Death, Why are we so afraid of dying and death, it makes no sense. My grandfather hugging me, said “Don’t beat yourself over the head, that’s what people think on the other side (where I was). As my grandfather held me in his arms, I looked over my right shoulder for some reason, and saw what looked like a fast moving movie, playing. It was my life and although I could not make out any scene, I knew it was the life I am living and it seemed that I lived 87 years. But where I was with my grandfather, it had been but a blink of the eye. Then BOOM, I am back at the party, the two friends are still gossiping as though nothing has happen, and the couple are on the love seat still making out. It did not seem that they had experienced what I just had.
I immediately forgot what happened. It was wiped clean from my mind. A year later, while waiting for my husband to come out of surgery, a woman I had never met, the sister of the woman who had been with me up until that point, since 6am that morning, brought me a book to kill the time. The book was A World Beyond by Ruth Montgomery, the first book about Life After Death I ever read. As I read it, the vision I had had about Death the year before came back vivid as ever and from that point in 1973, I stopped fearing Death. I have to be honest and say I fear dying, but not Death and I have no doubts that Death is not the end but a new beginning.
The Afterlife of Billy Fingers has added tremendously to my understanding of Death, the Afterlife, and deepened my relationship with God our Creator. Thank you.
Brenda H . Tapia
When my mom passed away last year I was so sad and worried about her. Several weeks afterwards on 3 different nights while I was sleeping I had an experience of astro projection to the other side. The first night I remember being in a dark place and she was wandering around aimlessly when two dark spirits started scaring her. I intervened and told them to leave her alone. They looked at me startled and then disappeared. On the second night she was in a beautiful room with marble floors and I sat two seats down from her, noticed her and called out “Mom”! She just looked and smiled. She was holding her stomach rocking back and forth. She was doing that before she died. On the third night, a woman who I have never seen before walked next to me and we were laughing and kidding around like we were best friends. She told me her name but I cannot remember it now. She took me to see my mom (without me knowing it). I suddenly saw a beautiful HD type image of my mom. She was beautiful and appeared well. She was with two other spirits. I went to hug her and felt no body but I felt a strong energy. My mom looked amazed that I was there. She started to say to one of the spirits, “Yes, she’s….” when I suddenly ended up somewhere else and then woke up.
My 25yr old son, Robby Miner III, MA2 US Navy, died tragically, 3 blocks from his house in Newport News, VA, in a motorcycle accident on his way to work on the USS Enterprise in Norfolk VA. He left behind a wife, 10mo.old son, 8 yr old stepson, parents and a 20yr old brother, Max. Robby was a very strong-minded, logical, daredevil, determined, fun-loving guy who cared deeply for his family. The day after he died he began giving us signs of his presence still here with us. Doorknobs would turn, significant items would fall off walls or shelves, many, many signs. Most evident are the following: the 1st night after death he came to his wife at night, sat on the bed and put his hand on her hip. 2 days later while we were all standing together comparing our various signs from him his son’s remote control car moved. We laughed about it and his wife literally said “Robby if that’s you move forward” the car moved forward “move back” the car moved back “turn right” the car turned right. I was in bed one night recently and looked at the clock at 3:33. Shortly after that I saw a shadow move from the door around to my side of the bed and felt 2 hands lean down and depress the mattress. One day when I was visiting his grave at the cemetery I was very cold. I saw the car was running and went to it. It was unlocked. I got in. When my husband came and joined me he then told me it was impossible for the remote to have started the car because the keys were in his pocket & he hadn’t touched them. Even if it did the car stays locked. I’m convinced Robby warmed up the car and left it open for me. I will be going for an IADC (Induced After Death Communication) session with a psychotherapist.
Being a medium and psychic I have seen, felt and heard many wonderful things. The most personal was the passing of both my parents last year within 27 days of each other. I cared for both of them their last week here. (I lived 4 hours from them) Dad had a stroke and never woke up from it and passed a week later. Both he and mom shared an apartment at a memory care place for dad. I was allowed to come and stay and care for mom during dads last week here with us. During that time, we also found out Mother was in stage 4 cancer. Shock to us all. The memory care allowed mother to continue to live there, knowing her end was near, and also they had hospice there as well. Two days before her passing, she saw her father in the room, talked with him. Her speech was not the best, and we had a hard time understand her. One of my gifts, I’m able to project myself on the ceiling and look down, see things no one else can. I also feel and can hear spirit as well, but in this case I could not, I could only project and look down. I cared for her during the week. Mother and I fought like cats and dogs over the years, she always refusing to cut the apron strings. Control was her first name shall we say. The last day she was here, she slept more, we knew the end was near, she napped at noon and never woke. At 10 that night, after everyone had left, I held her hand, and vision myself in an all-white room. There she was next to me. I held out my hand, and she took it, and we saw across the room my father. (They had been married 58 years) We walked towards him, and I placed her hand in his. (At this time that is all I could see were their hands) As soon as I placed them together, a Gold bright light exploded within my mind, made my mind blink, and jolted my whole body. I could NOT get back into the white room no matter how hard I tried. I looked at mother, and her worn, old face, was wrinkle free, refreshed, young, and oh so beautiful. I have never seen such beauty before, she glowed! . My sister and I still comment about it today. Three hours later, her body stopped, and her soul had left at the moment I placed her hand in dads. Brothers and sisters were there very fast. They huddled together and shared their grief. I found myself standing across the room watching them, and felt their pain, sorrow, and I could only watch, and wonder, if you only knew what I know. I wasn’t sad or in pain, not like they were, for I knew I could see my parents at any time. At dad’s funeral service, I knew he was there, my son and my cousin knew as well. We laughed how dad always showed up for a good party. I saw him several times during that day. Mother’s, on the other hand, was very different. My son and cousin came up to me at the same time and asked, what was wrong at the funeral, it felt “off”. I told them, is because she wasn’t there. I had a glimpse of her just before the service started of her, on the other side, all in gold light, long angel like robes, and she was hovering above. I had never seen this before when doing readings. She was being elevated up into a different dimension than what I have normally seen before. As fast as the vision showed up, it was gone. I now understand where mother is and what had happened. I have always seen different levels, but have never seen that type of vision or level as what I saw with my mother. I didn’t understand it then, but do now. “Thank you Billie and Anne” for this new understanding.
I just wanted to stop by and leave a message. This book was a gift. So many things that I understood. So many thoughts I had answered. What really got me was the part where Billy talks about the quantum leap. At the end of 2012. I made a statement that it was time for this little girl to put her toe in the water and learned to swim. I had to laugh. What came to mind was “Here’s Your Sign.”
So at the begining of the year I self published my first book also. Not one that demands you believe, but just one of my life and experiences as medium. Just an Imp, An Empathic Mediums Journey. So I just wanted to say Thank you, and THANK YOU BILLY!
hello i just found this site, i thought i was crazy, one day as i was waking up i heard my husband say thank you,,,,
I stumbled across these posts and felt I had to share my personal story.
My brother and I were exactly a year apart, to the day. Raised like twins, we were very close. As adults, we were both busy and didn’t see each other often, but we remained close. He was a busy physician but always took time to enjoy music and was forever trying to get me to listen to Van Morrison, his favorite music artist. Actually, he tried to get everyone to listen to Van Morrison, he was that big of a fan. He gave me a Van Morrison cd and to be honest, I don’t think I ever listened to it. It went into my cd collection and I forgot about it. When my brother was killed by a drunk driver on his way home from the gym, I was devastated. I could actually feel grief pulse through me like an electical current.
At his funeral we put the words to Van Morrison’s ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ on the back of one of the printouts.
He was very much loved in his community, and the town reeled from the shock as well – so much so that on the first anniversary of his death, the hospital wanted to remember him. They played Van Morrison over the hospital speakers throughout the entire day and handed out custom made cookies in the shape of flamingos (another one of his favorite things – don’t ask me why. He was just fun and quirky like that).
Then, about a year later, I was driving home from my gym. I was thinking about my dad (who had passed away in 2004) and thinking about my brother, and missing them both. I had this weird, sudden urge to turn on my radio. Now, I have to mention that this was a bit unusual because I don’t normally listen to music in my car, especially at night, coming home from the gym, but for some reason, thinking about my brother, I felt like I should turn on my radio.
(side note – I have one of those built in systems in my car that has a screen that has gps, audio, and numerous other feature options. When I turn on the audio system and select the radio, the screen shows different station options and also shows across the top, what song is currently playing and who the artist is.).
So, I turned on my radio. Immediately, across the top of the screen, in bold capital letters were the words ‘MISS YOU’. Then it switched to the name of the artist, ‘Van Morrison’. At that very moment, I knew it was my brother saying hello to me. I knew that he ‘told’ me to turn on the radio. (I know this sounds corny but I was convinced then and I am convinced still). Even more so, when I got home and looked online to see if there might be more of a message in the lyrics to the song ‘Miss You’ by Van Morrison, and I discovered that there is no song by Van Morrison called ‘Miss You’.
If my brother wanted to send me a message, that is exactly how he would do it. Van Morrison would definitely be his way of saying, “Yes, it’s me. Look. I’m using my favorite artist who I’ve always pushed you to listen to, so now you know it’s really me.”
Only very recently has it occurred to me that I should listen to Van Morrison for perhaps more of a message. I was surprised to discover that many of Van Morrison’s lyrics are about searching for the meaning of life, and finding his way.
So, that’s my story.
Even though I miss my brother every day, I know he is looking out for me from the other side.
I live in the house my grandad built,and have since day one felt certain “presence”here.It was really odd things at first,items would disappear,not be where we put them,ect.then after my grandmother passed it got better,she lived in a nursing home for about 6 or 7 years after we moved in.Then one day following the death of my father,Different side of family,I began to feel things changing,this finally felt like MY house.I still feel presence,often from opposite sides of family,but its more comforting,more calming.I lost a younger cousin last year and I could litrilly feel my house “sobbing”.I can’t explain “feelings” to anyone.Maybe because I spent so much of my childhood here,and was able to keep this home in the family,but I’m sure every member of both sides of my family have come to me through this house.I feel so blessed.
My Best friend Kate took her life after a year of battling depression. She was 36.
Kate was with me a lot during the months just after her passing. I dreamt about her every night. It was as if she was waiting for me to fall asleep and re-emerge back to my broader consciousness so we could hang out together again. I would feel her waiting for me as I woke from my daytime focus into my nightly focus. Of course her passing was the talk of the town, because she killed herself, everyone had something to say about it.
None of my friends who knew Kate would understand what I was going through with my communication with her after her passing. I tried to tell them, but they were not interested. They told me they didn’t believe in the things I talked about, so I stopped talking to them about my experiences. Then one night I had a very vivid dream.
I was in a room with a group of my friends, and just like in life they were all talking and gossiping about Kate’s death and as they gossiped I said to them “She didn’t die, you know,”
“Oh Karen, how deluded you are, of course she died,” they said to me. “No, No she didn’t she didn’t.” I insisted. “There is no such thing as death,” I told them, “She lives on in another place.” “Poor Karen, they said to each other, she’s in denial,” and turned their backs on me and continued to gossip.
I broke away from the group feeling left out and not heard. I could see that no matter what I said to them they would not hear me, nor did they want to. As I turned my head away from the group I saw a brilliant light coming from the next room. I went over to investigate and when I reached the open door I saw a endless room filled with a brilliant white light. As my eyes adjusted to the brilliance I saw Kate lying, with her eyes closed, on a white chaise lounge. “Is she asleep or is she dead,” I thought to myself, so I started to walk slowly over to the lounge, staring at her intensely, trying to figure out if she was asleep or dead. She looked so very still.
“Maybe I AM wrong,” I thought to myself. “Maybe my friends are right, she is dead and I am making all this life after life thing up. Maybe I am just trying to make myself feel better by making up silly stories that are not true,” I thought to myself. As I continued to walk slowly closer to the lounge I became more doubtful of myself. “She definitely looks dead,” I thought as I stared at her motionless body. I reached out ever so carefully to touch her. Would she be cold and hard, or is she just sleeping? As my hand drew closer to her face, almost at the point of touching her cheek, she abruptly opened her eyes and stared at me.
I drew my hand back with a start. ”OH MY GOD! You scared me!” I said to her. I thought you were dead You definitely looked dead, but you’re not are you? You are still alive, you’re still here?”
She smiled at me with the reassurance of someone who knew the answers to everything. So I said to her “You know everyone is talking about you Kate, everyone thinks you’re dead” .
“I know Karen; she said, I know they think I’m dead. They don’t know, they don’t want to understand. But you do, You know. ” she beamed at me. “ You know I’m NOT dead.” She said with a cheeky smile once again reassuring me…
It was so great to be with her again in my dreams. We had some amazing adventures in non-physical together in the months just after she passing. but after six months or so she stopped communicating with me, she wanted me to get on with the rest of my life and not think about her so much, as she was having her own journey, and I was not a apart of it from my physical perspective. It’s been about 13 years since she left her body and I still miss her everyday, but we have her boys, who are now men, to talk to and be with.
As a medium honey I can tell you that was a sign, never doubt that. We don’t always get to hear them speak, but they are always with us in energy, always loving us and if we are just open the signs will be there when we ask. Simply like the raido message and song you recieved. It is that moment you just know and your heart swells with understanding. I wish I could always make people understand that they are energy and energy and can be anywhere and everywhere and always with you. SMILE..cus you are loved! I loved this book, and I wish everyone could read it and gain the knowledge of just what it means to pass and transition and the incredible energy we are always.
Mary,
I loved your story! Thanks for sharing it with us!
For the past five months, our family has been operating on auto-pilot, moving through our own worlds of utter devastation. All of our lives ended one warm, calm day in October 2012 when we got the phone call informing us that my 27 year old daughter, Cari Anna, had committed suicide. For us, 2012 was truly the end of days.
I’ve been the parent hearing this horrific story about other children taking their lives and I remember the cold chill that ran through my body as I tried to imagine what those parents were suffering through. Now I AM that parent and the language simply doesn’t exist to communicate the horror, the guilt, the relentless, profound and never-ending sorrow of continuing to live when you know your child is gone and you’ll never see that sweet face again. But for me, the most excruciating pain came from the ‘seemingly’ unquenchable desire to know that she is okay, she is safe, she as ‘Cari’ is intact and she is HOME.
It’s important to note that I have never been a religious person. My family were not ‘church-people’ and although my dad is a deeply spiritual man, I have always had a scientific and logical mind. For me, material evidence, concrete reasoning and the known physical laws of our universe dictated the potentials of human experience. Faith, in my opinion, was simply the result of frightened people, or people bored with the predictability of life, trying to convince themselves that fairy tales were truth. I sneered at accounts of seeing ghosts, spiritual visions, NDE experiences, etc. and, as a result of my closed-minded thought processes, I only sought out that evidence that supported my skepticism.
Five months into this unenviable journey, I have gained an immense sense of peace and serenity that I, nor anyone simply hearing about this kind of grieving, would imagine possible in this situation. This sense of serenity is the result of a continuous stream of little gifts of communication from our Cari Anna from beyond the veil.
What is so wonderful and intriguing about these messages is the simple fact that they are, in most cases, so subtle and so enigmatic that they CAN’T be proven to the outside world. They are instantly perceived and acknowledged by those for whom they are intended but to convey the stories to others is just impossible. They come across as coincidence and the few times I’ve tried to relate a couple of the occurrences, the person would fidget, look away, change the subject…just as I’m sure I’ve done in the past many times over before I experienced this for myself.
The first message came across just a couple days after Cari left this world. When she was 18, she joined the Air Force and trained at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California as a Korean Linguist. While she was in the AF, she sent me a navy blue cap with the Air Force insignia on the front. I don’t wear caps but kept that one through the years as we moved around the country for my husband’s job. At this time, it was in our home office hanging on the corner of a couch. We were all gathered in the living room, in complete shock and every one of us raw and numb at the same time. We hardly spoke because what could we say? As for myself, I remember the thoughts of wishing for my own death. I was in unbearable, indescribable pain. I couldn’t see how I was going to survive this, how I could live with this for who knew how many more years. The ache to just GO TO HER was more than my mind could process.
We have a little miniature schnauzer named Indi. She is a sweet, loving little companion but we’d laughed many times because she has no idea how to play fetch. She has never, not a single time, brought anything to us of any kind. We throw her ball and she runs to get it but it’s ridiculous to believe we’re ever going to get it back. But this night, with everyone there to witness it, Indi came into the room with Cari’s Air Force cap in her mouth and came directly to me, stood up and put her front paws on my knees and gently gave the cap to me.
Such a subtle event…but instantly recognizable to those of us who knew the details of the situation. Indi had never before, nor has she ever again, brought anything of any kind to any one. The atmosphere in the room at the moment she brought the cap to me was one in which everyone there was able to focus on what she’d just done. It was so extraordinary that I nearly leapt out of my chair and looked at my husband, then at my son, Zack, who both sat with stunned expressions on their faces. We all knew she had done this.
There have been many such communications, such as walking through her very distinctive scent, the power going out in a home where the power had never gone out before just as I had been talking to a framed photo of her and turned to walk away. Going into restaurants and every time, one of her Memorial songs playing in the background. A framed photo of her falling over backwards just as I was thinking about where to put that exact photo in our luggage before we had to leave for a trip.
There are so many that it’s impossible to relate them all but the most recent and most profound happened just a couple weeks ago. Within a month of losing Cari, we found out my husband’s entire department was being transferred to Texas. It was almost too much to comprehend at the time and like robots, we mechanically went through the motions of selling our home, preparing for the move. What did it matter now where we lived? What did any of it matter anymore?
We finally found a house here that seemed too good to be true. In a city where yards are the size of postage stamps and houses are so close together, they’re almost touching, this home had an enormous back yard, a small greenhouse (I’ve always loved plants and gardening), a 3-car garage just like Cari’s dad had always wanted…and iris plants literally everywhere. I mentioned this to the lady who owned the home and we had an entire conversation about iris plants, the fact that her mother collected them, grew them and took them to flower shows. I can honestly say I’ve never had a conversation with anyone about iris plants.
The very next day, I was sitting at the computer, for once able to become very engrossed in whatever I was looking at. My Kindle was lying on the coffee table behind me. I had been listening to an interview on a web page with a little pop-up speaker plugged into the Kindle so I could hear it well but the interview had ended and yet I was so involved with what I was looking at on the computer, the Kindle sat there for 30-40 minutes silent and untouched.
I have never used the Kindle for anything but reading books and looking at web pages. When I first got it, I downloaded several songs but it wasn’t immediately apparent how to play them and I honestly just couldn’t care then about figuring it out. But as I sat in that chair, riveted to the computer screen, the Kindle came alive behind me and began blasting the first lines to the song ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls. It still stuns me to think about it, not only because the song just played of its own accord, but that it skipped the entire guitar intro and started exactly at the beginning lyrics which are ‘And I’d give up forever to touch you cause I know that you feel me somehow’. The connection was instantly apparent…the house…the iris plants…the long conversation about iris…and this song was played at Cari’s memorial. It was a song that resonated with me because parts of it seemed to convey Cari and parts of it, myself. It was a sort of ‘our song’.
Now, after my years of skepticism, after internally mocking those who told such tales, after overlooking the verified, replicated and confirmed scientific research, especially regarding Quantum Mechanics, that validates paranormal experience…I am left in the position of being the one who knows certain things to be true because of experience…and I am overjoyed. I am elated and absolutely flabbergasted because these few experiences I’ve mentioned here are but a fraction of the messages, not only to me but, finally this month, to my husband, my son and to Cari’s fiancé who loves her dearly. She exists, she is ‘there’ but she is also here and has been penetrating that veil on a regular basis to impact our lives in the most profound and recognizable ways.
To all who’ve lost someone and are submerged in that un-shareable grief, I wish I could convince you to have hope. They exist. They ARE. We are eternal spirits and after this experience, there are more adventures to come. Our family still grieves, and always will, for all the things not said, all the signs that our Cari was suffering that we missed, the simple absence of her, missing her in our lives. Cari was the gem in the chain of our family. So beautiful, so outrageously funny, so unique in her insights on life, her manner of dress, her interests. The world needs MORE people like Cari and is worse off for losing her. But we now know that we will be together again. This is not the end.
Well it looks like I found the place to tell my story….I had a wonderful good friend who was dying, and we would sit, and talk, and just go over old memories. Before he died he kept insisting that I have a beautiful antique clock of his. I was flattered, but didn’t see the need to rush in, and start taking things. He died a few weeks later….the clock still in his home….no will for me to take it. He had other extended family, so I just felt that things happen that way sometimes. About two weeks after he passed I started getting a loud message…I kept hearing over, and over..”Get the clock” It got louder, and louder until I finally stopped, and said aloud….”I can’t do it….you will have to do it for me”
Within about 2 hours…I recieved a phone call from his brother telling me that he knew our friend had wanted me to have his old clock. I was shocked beyond words. I knew in my heart at that moment there was communication from the other side….but who would believe t. I think I found someone who will!!
I find that this chapter is the hardest for me to express. The words are not adequate enough to describe a feeling that transcends dimensions and other lives lived.
I do not remember the “other”. I don’t think that part would be necessary for me to know. It speaks to me in feelings, in energy. The being I am always beyond this life.
As I am writing now I feel him come in beside me. A gentle coaxing to tell me, “Just write it will come out fine. You’ll see.”
Nothing I can think of could really describe this connection, but I am so blessed by it.
I love the term the kids use these days. My BFF. It was born out necessity to shorten a text. It means Best Friend Forever.
Friendships come and go in life. Often they do not survive the test of time. What you think is forever is merely a season in our life that we come together to experience lessons about others and ourselves both good and bad.
The friendships that remain unwavering as time passes are rare indeed. You know, the one’s where you may not see each other for years, but it is as if time never passed. They are there in an instant should you need them, no matter where life has taken either of you.
Certainly in life you will have these friendships in family. You will have them with spouses. Even spouses you are no longer married too. You may not be able to live together, but the bond of love and friendship remains. They are rare treasures in life. Hang on to them.
I have many such close bonds like this. Outside my family I have two that I hold dear to me. Tish and Carlos.
It is funny because we always seem to come back into each other’s lives when we need support the most.
Tish and I often begin to think about one another and suddenly we will meet after many years apart. It is always as if there was never any missed time.
She looks very much like me, only much younger. We certainly found it kind of odd. We are not related, that we know of. We have been asked so often if we are sisters that we just agree and laugh.
My love for her is unconditional. I hope she will always, always know that is a given, no matter where we are in life together or apart.
I met Carlos while working for a store in the late ninety’s. He was in his mid-twenties. A sweet, fun loving kid with a smile you could die for.
He was just this playful guy who could make you laugh with his antics, like shooting rubber bands at you across the isles.
He’d sing to you. Some short ditty, often a theme song from a movie. Then he’d sing it in your ear until you would catch yourself all day humming the same song. It would drive me nuts that he could plant that in my head so easy.
Equally though he hated when I could tell him during computer conversations what he was wearing. What he was doing, eating or how messy his room was and then to name the items strewn in the mess. I had this odd ability to be telepathically connected to him. He was my lesson in learning how to remote view.
Carlos’ energy was infectious. Always up beat. He lived life to the fullest. He loved to dance and sing. He loved people and people loved him.
My husband was gone a lot on the road. I occasionally needed a night out away from the kids.
Carlos was a DJ at a local bar in town as a second job. So I would go there to dance. It was safe there. I knew he’d look out for me.
I used to tease him because girls would run out on the dance floor fly into his arms and wrap their legs around his waist. He’d never failed to catch them then spin them around with lots of hugs.
Probably if I’d been ten years younger, and more daring I would have given it a try. It sure looked really fun.
His romantic quests however, were not the girls. Girls were his very best friends in life. He was this wonderful balance of feminine, masculine energy. One could say he was the better of both wrapped into one very cute package.
My favorite moments were just going to talk with him for hours about life. You see Carlos was in his second round of chemo for prostate cancer that was spreading.
When I met him it had already spread to his intestinal tract. He endured six-weeks of chemo treatments every few months.
He would bounce back and continue on, as if it was just a slight inconvenience in his life.
For the most part you only knew he was ill during the chemo, when he lost his hair. That part was his nemesis. He hated losing his hair.
The last time it grew back, he developed a little patch of white amongst all that black hair. So he took to streaking blonde into his hair in highlights. Problem solved.
Trust me right now I am laughing both at myself, and he is laughing with me. I have made him out to sound perfect.
He reminds me that he was human. He had father problems. Being who he was did not meld well with family values, or societies religious teachings. So he had a lot on his plate to work out in perspective. I thought he handled it fairly well. However, I was not with him all his life to really know.
Carlos was at a place in his life of reflection. Dealing with cancer will make one do this sorting out of what is important and what isn’t.
Death was the hardest issue for him to come to grips with. It was for him a bigger reality in the back of his mind then he ever let on. His question in this arena was what happens to us?
A few years earlier he lost his sister to a sudden cerebral hemorrhage. He was very close to her, and grieved her loss deeply. He needed to know she was still around.
There was a point later in his illness, where they had to put a shunt in a major vein in is upper chest. Nasty thing, that had to stay capped or bleed everywhere. He knocked the cap off a couple times in his sleep and woke up soaked.
The night before the surgery he called me, frightened. We talked, and I told him, as you go to sleep think of me and I will hold your hand in spirit. I could not always be right there for him but I knew I could always be in spirit. This calmed him.
The next night he called me almost in tears. He told me through sobs, “I took your hand just like you said. It was amazing! You took me to a door and opened it for me. The brightest light I have ever seen was behind that door. You told me to go into it, so I did!”
There was a brief silence then, “I saw my sister, Deb! I saw her, and she hugged me and I felt her. She said she was there always, not to worry! I understand now. It was real. You took me too my sister!”
Not another word was uttered between us, just tears. I had said a prayer the night before that I’d be allowed to be with him in spirit so he would know that all would be fine.
I was asleep during his surgery, because I knew that I could be of the most help that way. I do not know what happened. I only know my prayer was answered for him.
From that day forward he was never afraid. He was always connected with his sister. He could feel her and he knew no matter what life would continue.
We were so deeply connected. I always knew what was going on with him. I could always feel what he was feeling. Some of which was not wonderful.
One of the very last times that I was able to help him was during a time when he was sent to Portland for a bone marrow transfusion.
Talking to him on the phone the night before the transfusion I told him I was going to pray he didn’t need the transfusion at all. I told him he needed to go to Texas and see his mom. Just take time to do things he’s been putting off. We laughed and I told him I loved him and would always be there in spirit with him.
Sometime after midnight the next day I got a phone call from him. Across the phone he felt very high in energy. He felt wonderful in fact. My curiosity was kicked into to overdrive instantly so I asked. “So how’d it go?”
I think I heard this little quip of a laugh come out of him, “I didn’t have to have it. The test said I am in remission!”
“You’re kidding me!!!!!!!!” I screamed, almost going to my knees.
“I’M IN REMISSION!” he screamed and I swear he was on the other side of that phone doing the Funky Chicken, or the Moon Walk or some weird combination of the two.
I want you to put this book down for just a little while.
If I were to teach you anything this lesson will be the one that counts the most. It isn’t about me.
It’s about you and your connection to the All.
Whatever you choose to call it, it is the energy you come from and will return to. A never ending connected circle of unimaginable creations that at will you can invoke for a greater purpose. All you have to do is ask.
I will never be able to say this enough. A thought is a creation, put into motion by you through your energy.
You came from light and you will always be light in existence. You can create miracles, born out of love, given without condition.
There are things put into motion to learn from. You cannot change everything, no matter how awful or unfair it may seem, but you can give energy to help lighten the load so to speak.
Keep it positive and simple. If you say it or think it, then it is in motion to manifest. Maybe not in the way you wanted or imagined, but in a way that will create the best outcome to benefit what is going on.
Carlos’ remission lasted almost two years. Not a moment wasted. He reconnected and mended family ties. Found the love of his life. Lived like he had never lived before leaving and invaluable mark on the lives he touched along the way.
It was a moment in my life I came to understand, that I am healer, and now and then the healing I do has the most amazing results. It may not have been something people see as the ultimate miracle, but every little miracle has it’s grand purpose in the scheme of things.
The last phone call I got was six months before he passed. Letting me know all he was doing. I understood the call. I didn’t even ask. My heart knew he was telling me the time was growing near. I had made a promise that as I had always done I would be there to hold his hand as he transitioned.
He never called to tell me he was leaving. I heard it by accident from a friend of friend. I don’t think he wanted me to see him that way. Still I tried to call. Only to find he was too ill to take a call.
On the morning of Jan 16, 2001, I was at work. I woke up feeling he was leaving. It was a battle I waged with myself for three hours. Do I go? Do I barge in on private family time?
I watched the clock at work wanting to go be with him. I had made a promise. I had to be there. I ran to my car and made the twenty minute drive to his house in tears.
I reached the street just before his house and as I was waiting to make the turn a voice spoke in my ear. “HE IS GONE!”
The world around me went silent. I turned my car around and took the long way back to work. Did I break my promise? The thought crossed my mind many times. How could I not keep my promise?
When I got back to work I called the house. I asked for Carlos and his partner Rich told me that Carlos had passed a half hour earlier. Exactly the time I was on my way to his house.
I told Rich that I knew that. I just wanted so bad to talk to him. He was a bit confused, but wished me well and told me it was all okay. Carlos had passed peacefully in his arms.
Carlos did not want a funeral. He wished to be cremated and celebrated in the place he always felt at home, in the bar he worked, with people who loved him.
I didn’t go to that either. I was so upset that I had let him down. I celebrated his life in my own way. Sending love and writing him a letter to which I posted online in group I was in at the time.
I received an email back from the administrator of the group, who was a medium explaining that she was kept up till the wee hours of night with Carlos’ spirit and that of an older male energy, which I am positive was my father instructing her on creating something for me very specific. She gave me a link to go to and view it.
I opened the link to find a black page. Running the length of the right side of the page was a long stemmed pink rose. Beside it were the lyrics to the song “Remember Me This Way.” Perhaps you remember it from the movie Casper.
The music to it played in the background. It was beautiful. I recognized it immediately. Casper was one those songs he loved to get you going on. It was a bit like opening a very special music box, but there was much more to that creation then I saw at that moment.
A few days later I was sitting on the edge of my bed. The room was semi dark and I was staring into my vanity mirror just talking to Carlos, allowing myself to cry.
I happen to notice how black the mirror looked. Then my eyes caught it. The long stemmed pink rose that ran the right edge of the mirror and the poem I had tapped next to it. How it matched the picture Carlos and my father had worked so hard to create for me.
The love that brought that creation to life was telling me. “I see you! I hear you! I will always love you! I have your hand now!”
From that day forward I got roses nearly once a week from strangers, from my husband in one form or another I got roses.
The very last time was on Mother’s Day. When a perfect stranger handed my son a spring bouquet of fresh flowers, instructing him to make sure his mother got them.
Years later I went to a meditation class to learn how to meet your guides. During that meditation our instructor told us to create a place to meet our guides.
I created a garden. Roses and jasmine line a walk through a narrow garden path. It opens up to a fountain with a Pegasus in the center. You can sit around it, or find one of the big plush chairs to relax in.
I still use that garden when I read. It’s the perfect place to bring spirits to communicate.
I sat myself into the cushy love seat. Someone plopped hard down beside me. I looked to find Carlos grinning at me like Cheshire cat. He said, “What? Did you think I wouldn’t be here?”
I came out of that meditation laughing. No one in the universe could be a better choice of guides for me. No one gets me like Carlos. He may not be my only guide, but, he will always be in my corner holding my hand, as I held his in life. My BFF!….thought I’d share a story about my friend from my book “Just An Imp”. So many amazing realtionships in our lives that teach!
Loved your story Suzanne!
I had a dream 1 yr before my son died, that he would die. He kept telling me in my dream, “mom, I have to cross, I have to get to the other side”. In my dream he was trying to cross the road, but I was afraid and kept telling him, “NO, it isn’t safe, don’t cross now!”. In my dream, he ran across the road and a truck hit him, he flew through the air and I got to him right as he took his last breath and his eyes rolled back in his head. This dream was very upsetting to me and I thought, with him being 22, I was just worried about him. A few months later my oldest son told me, “mom, I had a dream Kyle died”, I was shocked! Two months later, my beautiful, now 23 year old son died, doing a jump snowboarding. My oldest son & I have had other dreams since where we have been told that Kyle’s time on earth was to be short, and he was “taken” this way to save us the “excruciating” pain of watching him suffer from a future illness. His early departure has benefited us by opening our hearts to love, receiving and giving to all around us, I feel like his purpose was fulfilled for us, and mine was fulfilled by giving him so much unconditional love while he was here. I continue sending him love everyday and I am rewarded with little “signs” from him as well.
I am a spiritual grief counsellor and am far advanced on my own Spiritual Journey with tons of Infused Knowledge from God. I am asked often “why do you know so much?” or “how can you know this stuff about life and the afterlife?” yet I am not a medium and am not being spoken to by anyone I have lost. I would like to ask Annie if Billy has had any contact with her past this book because I have questions about the final Journey as he describes it to you. I would love to know more if he has let you in on his transition as he seemed to transform many times in the book. I hope to hear more or get a response, I enjoyed the book and as I tell everyone whom may just be reading books like this for the first time, Please do not stop as there are many wonderful books like this one that can help you continue gaining an understanding of life on the other-side. Blessings
HI Sandie
Billy is still around but doesn’t communicate about where he is now. My intuition says that will be another book.
I was in the kidney doctor’s examination room with Mom when he came in with her test results. He matter of factly stated, ” you are in end stage kidney failure”. While Mom seemed to take the news in stride, my heart felt as though it were stabbed through with fear. I tried to remain light and told her we would do all the things we could to delay her going on dialysis; which we were to find out, not much could be done to delay it. It was just a few months when Mom had to go on dialysis. My sister and I were devastated. We had planned in Mom’s senior years to travel with her more often…to take her to places she loved; to visit the North Carolina beaches; to visit Southport, NC and stay in one of their quaint bed and breakfast inns, to travel to the Biltmore House in Asheville, to amble around flea markets….drive the Blue Ridge Parkway. But these simple dreams were not meant to be. Her going on dialysis meant she would be tethered to a machine 3 times a week just so she could keep living. Dialysis treatment left her extremely fatigued. Her spirits plummeted. In the beginning of her treatment, when she entered the end stage kidney failure status, the fistula they had installed in her arm would not work properly. Her arm turned black and blue from the attempts at using that as a lifeline. Thus, a graft was put into place. The graft would work ok for a while, then eventually would become unworkable, necessitating a graft revision. Mom underwent several graft revisions. Each graft revision entailed her going into the hospital for outpatient surgery. Dialysis lasted for five years until one night Mom said she was afraid her graft was not working.. it had lost its trill… that is the continual purring vibration it made from the blood going through it. The next day in treatment the graft would not work, and plans were made for her to go to the hospital that afternoon for a graft revision. They would be installing a new one in another area of her body. We were running out of places to put new grafts; both arms had had grafts that failed, and a new one would be placed in her hand. That afternoon at the hospital my sis and I waiting for the surgery to be over and Mom to go into recovery was taking longer than usual. They came out and told us to go into another, private waiting room. My sister and I knew..this was not normal procedure. The surgeon and anesthesiologist entered the room and we knew we would not see Mom alive again. They broke the news. I went into a sort of shock, detachment so that I could cope with the profound loss. They asked “do you want to see her?” As I entered the room, she looked as though she was asleep and all I could think of was she still had her peach colored lipstick on and how she looked so pretty lying there. We somehow managed to continue on after that awful day; going thru the funeral plans, then the funeral…My sister and I were lost without our Mom, our best friend. Each day I would go in the mornings to tenderly lift the window shades in her house and my sister would go back at night to softly lower them. We took turns keeping the watch. It was as if we were waiting for her return. Three months of grief drenched days passed and then it was the day of my birthday. I had gone to Mom’s house that morning to lift the shades. After seeing to the house’s needs, I sat down in Mom’s blue recliner. It was first birthday ever in my life without her. I began to cry and talk to Mom out loud.. In between sobs, I asked her for a sign on my birthday that she is ok.. I said “to know you are ok would be the best birthday gift ever. Maybe let me smell your perfume.. anything..” I waited and nothing happened. I slowly got up from the chair, closing and locking the door behind me. Then I began the first birthday in memory without her (and without Dad who had passed 7 years before). I felt like an orphan. Later that day, as birthday greetings arrived from extended family, I had put my request for a sign out of my mind. Later that evening my sister and husband took my husband and I out to a birthday dinner. It was bittersweet. Upon leaving the restaurant, my sister invited us to go back to her house to open some gifts and eat cake. But first, she said, they would stop by Mom’s to check on the house and pull the shades down for the night, and we would meet at her house in about 20 minutes. A bit later at my sister’s house, the four of us were sitting around after my having opened birthday gifts. My sister suddenly said, “a strange thing happened tonight down at Mom’s house.” My heart leapt when she said that, when I suddenly remembered what I had asked Mom that early morning sitting in her chair. My sister continued, “when we got out of the truck in Mom’s driveway, I smelled a woman’s perfume. But Mitch could not smell it. It was so strong, I had him to come over and see if he could smell it, but he couldn’t. It was very strong.” I felt a thrill rising in my heart as I looked at her and began to smile. I began to tell her of my request that morning, asking Mom to give a sign she is ok where she is… and I specifically requested to smell her perfume. My sister looked at me her eyes widening. “But why would Mom give me the sign instead of you?” she asked. I immediately knew the answer. It was full circle. If I had smelled the perfume myself, I would have doubted it, wondering if I was hallucinating, imagining it. Because Mom had waited until evening to give my sister the smell of her perfume, we would both share in it and confirm with each other that it was in fact real. Each time I wonder where Mom is, I am comforted by the sign she gave us. Yes, her physical presence is so very missed, but my sister and I know wherever she is, she is aware of us and she is doing ok. It has been five years since Mom went into the other dimension. This year, I had a dream on her birthday. I was driving and Mom was in the backseat… we often joked about how I was her chauffer and felt like I was driving Miss Daisy. In the dream, a person walked up to the car window, peered in at Mom sitting in the backseat and said, “I thought you had been really ill.” To which Mom replied with a smile and a lilt in her voice, “I’m not sick anymore!” And oh the joy that filled my heart in that moment! She is indeed ok.. more than ok 🙂
I love this story…mom’s are like that you know!
I knew for an evening that I am the energy of love . . . two years ago yesterday. Here is my journal entry from that night:
March 1st, 2011, well after my bedtime:
I’m so busted open to love. I don’t care about sleep. I don’t care about anything, but the love. It’s all I see and feel. It has been coming through me for a long time, wanting to be brought forth, talking to me, talking through me, but all of a sudden I know it in every cell, that it is all that matters. I want to shout this to all the world. I want to stay awake and just swim in this love that I am bursting with. I want to simply feel this relief, this utter relief of what I’ve just found out: All that ever matters is the love!
I got busted open tonight to reveal the absolute truth. Nothing hides it from me now. I get it beyond anything! Love is why I am here, to put it in everyone’s faces until they can’t help but feel it. They’ll see it on my blissed-out face, all stupefied on this drunken love. They’ll feel it like a heat lamp inside me.
Like after other shifts, I am “afraid” to go to sleep for the chance that come morning I will find this gift has faded or shut back off in the night, but it won’t. How could a truth this bold, this brilliant, such a holy gift as this, ever be lost or taken back? I’m here now. This knowing, once truly known, is just that. What else is there to say? There isn’t room for any other thought. All that I have ever longed for is here now.
Though I want to stay awake tonight, to love, I will try to sleep now. I can love some more tomorrow and every moment after that.
Note to reader- As it turned out I was no longer immersed in this same busted-open state by morning. But I had dipped into the infinite ocean of love, one of those glorious experiences that come our way to remind us of what is real, who we truly are and where our awareness is headed. On my journey of awakening there have been profound shifts of awareness that have changed me from that moment on. I feel quite certain that this massive heart opening in its own way has, as well.
Thanks so much Jenny for this beautifully written account of your moment of awakening
I just finished your book Annie. I can’t put into words what it did for my soul. Thank you so much for writing it. I would love to have an experience like that. I am at a difficult time in my life (disability due to burnout). Doing lots of yoga. Reading lots of books, especially one like yours and ones from the Hindu philosophy (e.g. Bhagavad Gita, Uddhava Gita, etc.). Also chanting the names of God.
Every day I pray to The Lord to show me the way….
It’s books like yours that comfort me and allow me to feel like all is ok.
Thank you, Annie, once again.
Aum Mane Padme Hum
I always looked up to my father and admired his great spirit of adventure! Everything he was interested in, I was interested in as well. I never could be as close to him as I had wanted to be, in life, that is, because he was not raised to show much affection, and was a Navy man on top of that. After he died in Aug. of 1990, I started feeling his presence in my car whenever I was driving to work in the morning, and would often talk to him. There was a song “Wind Beneath My Wings”, and when it would come on the radio, I would say, “This is for you, Dad” After telling him this on many occasions, I was driving to work one morning, when this song came on the radio and as soon as I started to say my usual,”This is for you, Dad” I heard a loud “Stop. No, this time it’s for YOU” He told me. I was so overcome with emotion, that I bawled like a baby all the way to work. My father came to me many times after his death, in dreams, to warn me about future events in my life. I know that we will see each other again one day and I truly look forward to that day!
I love this story so much! I love that you reached out to your father through a song and that he replied to you in the same manner. I’ve learned that when we play tribute it opens the lines of communication! Thank you Sherri for this inspiration!
One morning of the year 1990 a very quiet voice woke me up early morning, I was staying at the house of my parents in law this voice said tenderly to me… wake up early that he/she that wakes up early God will help. I woke up wondering who talked to my since the only person next to me was my husband and this was a feminine voice, then very clear the voice said to myself go to the bathroom and turn the light off, uh? who is talking to me I need a shower to wake up better not be late for work.
My father in law was starting the car to go to work, the garage was wide open and communicated to the house living room very close to the bathroom where I was, suddenly I heard loud screaming and some kind of gun shots in less then five seconds all the people in the house was sadly killed except for my husband and I, the neighbors saw how one of the killers was aiming with a gun towards the bathroom where I was and further more they told me a gigantic scary figure came out of the bathroom where I was and scared the killers out of the house, I know my guardian Angel was there for me for us God saved my life . Years later 10 months after our baby was born I have a dream where I see my husband running on the very top of a roof days after he was also killed and police told me he tried to escape kidnapping and running away on the roof of a parking lot building, that morning I woke up trying to stop him, I didn’t want him to leave the house I even thought about pinching the tires of his car, he left our home and he said… I love you and don’t I look really cute just heavenly!! after he crossed the porch I never saw him alive again, that afternoon I felt him crying inside of me, asking for help I began to worry and got really nervous I had a shot of rum and then another one suddenly a Cd with music of an Italian singer was BY ITSELF PLAYING and the lyrics are… “where do I go , when part of me is dying… somewhere they are baking new bread there is peace in my life, Ill be the rain and you’ll be heaven crying, and my eyes will be filled with flowers upon the snowed fields of white, and we will learn to walk together, oh hand in hand we will walk together domenica! This song was enough message for me, Zuchero was his favorite Italian singer I went to my moms home took a shower gave her the baby I was devastated and nervous my mom didn’t know why.
While taking a shower I felt my throat was opening and I had a huge breath, I felt I was dying and truly believe was exactly the moment he was expiring, dying. I felt I was going to pass out, 35 minutes after police calls me to let me know my dear husband was found with signs of torture and killed.
I remember so well the lyrics when I went to identify the body it was raining and therain drops where falling really humid vividly on my face and I was an ocean of tears as in the lyrics of this song from Italian singer Zuchero… Ill be the rain and you’ll be heaven crying.
I will never know in this life why God or the angles protected me so much , I know my husband that time wanted me to know he was fine that there was peace, that he could even feel the smell of fresh bread, that there was peace in his life, because he knew he was the love of my life and that his dead will be very devastating for me, he wanted to calm me down before the bad news were right on my face, and also was his way to say good bye since never happened in physical way. Amazing message of love from a true love. Now our daughter is 21 we live safe and happy in America Glory always to God.
Ingrid – I am so moved by your story and your beauty. I am so glad you are safe and happy. I am almost speechless. xoA
Thank you so much Annie my life has been in the edge but thankful for my experiences and the approach I have for life at this point
Ingrid, i had an almost identical experience. Are you the twin of an adoptee? This is incredible.
Annie:
I have had many encounters with loved ones who have passed and accept it as ‘normal’. My husband died in 1998, my father in 2008 and my mother in 2010. I see, hear and sense them around me at various times. Messages come in dreams, in writing, in songs, in symbols and (in the case of my mother), in the appearance of butterflies in unexpected places and ways. She told me, while on hospice, when I asked her to come back and tell me what happens after we die, “I’ll come back as a butterfly.” It is a comfort to know that although we miss the physical presence of our loved ones, they are never truly ‘gone’. Looking forward to reading your book and interviewing you. Blissings, Edie <3
Hi Edie
Thanks so much for sharing this story. I love that she told you she would come back as a butterfly and it is so. Looking forward to our interview.
Annie
My son, Benjamin, passed away sometime during the night of April, 26, 2002. Before I realized he had gone, I had a dream. My mother, who had passed away in 1994, came to me in that dream. She did not say a word. She appeared to be waiting. She gave me the feeling that she would “be there”, that everything would “be all right”. I woke, to my big sheepdog jumping up on my bed. That was unusual because always slept in with Ben. I got up and took my shower, and went to wake Benjamin up for school. It was a Friday and there were big plans for that day in his class. I knew he was looking forward to the day. Needless to say, my life changed that day. My baby had died, a little over a month before his eighteenth birthday.
I have always believed there to be more than just this life on Earth. I have always felt there were spirits around me. Angels? God? I have never really bothered to label them. I just believe they are there.
Benjamin has made it clear to me, and to my husband, that he is around us. In 2006, we traveled to Hawaii. To let us know he went with us, he covered my husband’s car with frost in the form of palm leaves upon our return to the cold climate of Colorado. To top it off, he “signed” his name in the tail lights of the car in front of it! We have a photo of it!
My grief was eased a little bit, when Benjamin came to me in a vivid dream. I could feel his tears and feel his hug, he seemed to be saying the good-bye he wasn’t able to say before he left us. I woke weeping, but at least I was able to have that good-bye. I will always miss him, but I know, in my heart, I will see him again.
Thank you so much Jackie for sharing this amazing story. Yes…our grief is eased by after death communications and yes…I completely believe that we will meet again.
Ti’s only the first time that is really scary ,,
of course that is only ,,
because ??
So many talk ,about a place “They” Have not been ,,
those that have been
only “Smile”,
And move along ,,
bless
pearl