Today I continue the series I began last week on the myriad ways that our dead beloveds can visit us.
I’ll start with a mini-story. When Thelma (not her real name) inherited her father’s home, she moved into it temporarily and felt his presence nearly constantly. His garden had been his favorite place. I love that he once pointed out to her that a particular tree (I believe it was one he’d planted.) needed watering. I could use that kind of help, since I often fall behind on my watering. Thank goodness for this rainy August.
Practical info is just one way dead beloveds can participate in our lives though. They may also assist us in much more significant manners.
If we’re struggling with a difficult decision, a solution may arrive with a memory of the person or just a sense that we’ve been helped by them.
If we have a particular route we usually travel, a nudge to go a different way may come. Sometimes we’ll never know why. At other times we might hear later that a bridge had collapsed or an accident or a crime had occurred just when and where we would have been had we not changed our route.
We may ask for help from our beloved with an important transition like a divorce or career change or move, receive advice that defies logic, follow it, and have it work out just as our beloved had suggested.
If a nudge or advice or solution comes in a voice, we may hear words either inside our heads or externally in the person’s voice. Sometimes it simply feels like our own thoughts.
Our dear beloved may give us a message—directly or in a dream—that we’re unsure we should deliver. When we do, it may be received with joy and gratitude and tears.
When we’re unsure whether after-death communication is even possible, a book on the subject might fall off a library shelf at our feet. (Yep, this really happened, as all these incidents did!)
The sense of someone we’ve lost connection with may be felt so vividly we search the Internet for news of them and, to our shock, come upon their obituary.
We may hear our dead beloved’s happy laughter.
Looking at what was happening or being said at the precise moment that lights go off and on without discernable cause, may reveal meaning.
A hug or a kiss in a dream may feel as real on awakening as if the person were right there in the physical.
Of course, these contacts are comforting. But when we discern levels of meaning within them, the comfort is deepened, because meaning reveals an unseen order we yearn for. Little feels more out of order than death. Each time we discover meaning we straighten the house of our grief by one small increment.
Watch for more examples in upcoming blogs.
If you have your own stories I would love to hear them. I invite you to share them with me at http://www.AnnieMattingley.com. Just click “Share A Story” in the menu to write about your after-death communication. If you’d prefer to tell me your story verbally, let me know and we can arrange for that.
The After Death Chronicles: True Stories of Comfort, Guidance, and Wisdom from Beyond the Veil. To be released by Hampton Roads on October 6, 2017. Pre-order on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and IndieBound. Find out more on my Book Page.