A Life Just Begun
My aunt Helen Daniels was in her 40’s when she was diagnosed as having bone cancer. Because I was only eleven at the time, I had never experienced a loved one’s prolonged illness, let alone death. In her hospital room we talked at length about God and the afterlife. Although at my young age I couldn’t understand what it all meant, it was soon to be made clear to me.
On August 5, 1968, a call came from the Fresno, California, hospital that the end was near. All the adults left to be at her bedside. Two hours later the phone rang again and a voice on the line said my beloved aunt had died.
On the night of the funeral, after everyone else in the house had gone to bed, I lay in my room trying to remember the good times Aunt Helen and I had together. Yet the anger and sadness at her passing kept creeping into my thoughts.
All of a sudden my aunt appeared at the end of my bed. She looked beautiful; there was no pain or agony in her face. Sitting at the edge of my bed, she took my hand and at that moment I felt a sense of immense relief.
Although an audible word was never spoken, I could hear her “speaking” in my mind. Helen told me of the peace and happiness she felt. She said all the relatives who had gone before were there to meet her and to help her over. I shouldn’t worry about her because her life had just begun.
When she got up to leave, she said she would not be able to return to me ever again but that I should know she was watching over me. Then she walked down the hall and vanished.
My family assured me I was dreaming. I know I wasn’t. Since this experience I have no fear of death.
— Sherry Johnson
My mother Mildred Demmy died on January 13, 1973, at the age of 73. I was 36 years old at the time. Because I was an only child, we were very close and I was devastated at the loss. I had always believed in a hereafter and I hoped to see her again. As the years went by, my faith in all things, including survival after death, seemed to diminish.
Then in August 1982 my youngest son was married. For the service he used an old diamond ring which had once belonged to my dad, Herman Demmy, who died in 1960. During an outdoor pool party after the wedding several guests were admiring the ring and it was being passed around. In the process it somehow got lost.
On May 5, 1984, I was feeling depressed and I called upon the spirit of my mother to help me find the way back to my old faith. The very next day my daughter-in-law, my youngest son’s wife, went out into the backyard and there she found the long-lost ring. How it could have been there for two years and gone undetected where we had all walked, mowed the lawn and shoveled the snow, I have no idea.
In July 1986 my feelings of despair and doubt returned. Again I called out my mother’s name and pleaded for help once more. That night I couldn’t sleep because of our bed, and antique one which has always moaned and groaned at our slightest move. This had never bothered me in the past but was doing so now because of the terrible mood I was in.
For the next two nights the bed noises kept me awake. Finally my husband and I decided to take it all apart and try to tighten it up. As we were doing so, my husband found a solid gold earring which had been my mother’s and which I had lost months before.
Another coincidence — or another message from Mother?
— Jaye Prouflis
The Cat Came Back
Frequently pet owners wonder if there is life after death for their animals. I can answer this question in the affirmative.
My cat Shelly dies in 1980 but returns occasionally, not as a flesh-and-blood cat but as a recognizable image of her own sweet self. At first I became aware of her sitting in back of me but when I would turn, there was nothing. I finally discovered the trick of remaining in my present position, only looking out of the corner of my left eye. Then I can see her.
When I moved from our old house in Calumet City, Illinois, I thought she would be unable to find me. But I learned that it is not only places to which animals return; its to the people they cared for in life. I have felt her presence and seen her in my new apartment here in Burbank, at the laundromat and even in a restaurant when I was having coffee alone.
If this works for me, it can work for you. The next time you have a feeling that your deceased pet is with you, do not turn to look but remain as you are, gently shifting your gaze until you can see out of the corner of your left eye. Your beloved pet will be visible to you.
— Evelyn Thor