DAD'S DYING VISIONS
Back in 1979, I moved in with my dying father. One morning I was making him breakfast and he seemed very upset. I asked what was wrong. He said, "They came to get me last night," and pointed toward the ceiling. So, of course, stupid me, I asked, "Who?" He got extremely upset and yelled at me, pointing at the ceiling, "THEY! Came to get me!" I didn't say another thing, but watched him continuously. From that night on, he wouldn't sleep in his room. He always slept on the couch. I would put my children to bed then sit with him and watch TV. We would talk, and right in the middle of our conversation he'd look up, wave his hand and say, "Go away. No, not yet. I'm not ready."
This went on for three months before he died. My father and I were extremely close, so when he contacted me by automatic writing I wasn't surprised. He just wanted to say he was alright. One more thing. He died at 7 a.m. That night I was all alone in his home; my ex had our children. I lit a big candle, put it on the end table and lay down on the couch and cried myself to sleep. I felt so close to him there. The next morning when I awoke, the candle sat three feet away on the carpeted floor. By the look of the burn hole on the carpet right below the end table, the candle had fallen and started a fire. To this day I don't know how it was put out or how the candle got moved to the doorway between the living room and kitchen, but I suspect it was my dad. He saved my life that night and his home from burning up in a fire. - Kuutala
FINISHING OUT THE WEEK
Mom was almost 96. She suffered a broken hip in January, 1989 and went from hospital to nursing home. She just gave up. My mom was born in a small village in Poland, had little or no schooling, and came to this country with my dad when she was 17, not knowing a word of English. She lived all those years, owned her own home and had no fear of anyone or anything - a great spirit in a small lady. She was a woman who worked until she was 84 in a mattress factory, totally committed to doing her job, "finishing out the week," as she said.
This one Saturday I sat with her for a while, and suddenly those blue eyes of hers opened wide. She looked to a corner of her room, then to the ceiling. (She was legally blind.) She looked terribly startled at first, but as her eyes swept around the room, she put both hands under her chin and settled down. I swear I saw a light around her; the gray hair and pained facial expressions disappeared and she was beautiful. She closed her eyes. I wanted to ask her (in Polish) what she saw, but something stopped me. I just sat there and looked at her. It was approaching evening. I had told the people there that if my mother appeared to be dying to inform me. Well, I decided to leave. I bent over my mother and kissed her on the forehead. A voice within my head said very clearly, "This is the last time you will see your mother alive." But something made me leave. That night, as I was sleeping, I dreamt my mother was behind me, shaking me hard by the shoulders, trying to wake me. She finally did, and I woke to the phone ringing. It was the nursing home - midnight - telling me my mother had just passed away. I couldn't find it in my heart to scold them for not calling me earlier. She was gone. She died Saturday night... "finishing out the week." That was in 1989, and I have never forgotten those last moments. - S.
AN AFTER-DEATH VISION
Here is my story of a death apparition, but this one did not make itself apparent immediately prior to death. This one occurred after death. Is it possible that the person who has died can reappear to the loved one she left? My father relayed this story to me later after he was able to think about it for a while and make some sense of what had happened. My mother returned to visit my father three days after she died. She appeared for about three seconds to my dad who, while still in a waking stupor before being fully awake, saw what he called a person in essence form - somewhat translucent and milky white. She was without recognizable features. My father received an unspoken message from her that "He must continue on!" And he did... but with the knowledge that she was fine and concerned as to his well being. There was contentment and some comfort in his acknowledgement that she was okay. Another interesting fact about this is apparitions occurring after death have been seen on three other occasions that I am aware of by people losing loved ones in my family. And just recently, to my surprise and great interest, a friend of mine, not related in any way to the family, told of the same thing.
I would be extremely interested to find out if this strange event happens more frequently than we believe. Can a parallel can be drawn to an arm for example, that has been severed. The brain leads the person to believe this arm is still attached by the manifestation of phantom pains. Perhaps the brain manifests apparitions in the same manner when you lose someone! - Joanne
LESSONS FROM MOTHER
My mother contacted me a few times after death. The first time was the night of her funeral, when I was sleeping deeply from exhaustion, and I felt a soft breeze pass over me, and then a deep kiss on my left cheek. I was so startled that I woke up and saw mist and a hand waving at me. Another time was a few months later when I started school to get a promotion at my job. I was very stressed out and not ready to deal with a promotion, but felt that I had to take advantage of a good opportunity. I woke up one night and saw my mother standing over me wearing a nursing uniform. (She was a nurse's aide in life, and I was receiving a promotion as a nurse technician.) She had a few books in her hand. She sat and spread the books across the bed, and when I reached to touch the books, I was actually touching the sheets. She began to talk to me and read from these books. I do not remember all that she shared with me, but after that interaction, for each exam I took in that class I did not get less than a 95%. I never remembered the questions on the tests. I graduated from the class valedictorian. Yes, I think that the spirits never leave us. - Jo