The Energy Left After a Mother's Death

My mom passed away suddenly, out of the blue, on Sept 21, 2005. She was 55. Her heart just stopped, so there was no pain and no struggle what-so-ever. It was just like she went to sleep. I spoke to her the night before and we laughed and chatted, just like we always did. We said our goodbyes and our I love you's, just assuming we'd talk tomorrow, as we talked daily. I got a call from my aunt (her sister) the next morning at 5:30 a.m. Saying she'd passed last night. About 20 minutes after getting the news I was laying down, in the fetal position, sobbing and in such pain. Out of nowhere I sat up and had the most peaceful feeling. I said to my boyfriend, "my mom is okay?" I can't describe it to anyone, but that feeling was like nothing I have ever felt before. It helped me through (and still does) the most painful time of my life. Now, I don't know if it was my mom or God or what, but something was there, present, in me or touching me, making me feel safe. I still cry and am extremely sad that my mom is not here, but moments after I start to well up, I think of that feeling. It reminds me there is something bigger than me, that it doesn't just stop here. I don't have much of a background in religion but I am very spiritual. I have always felt like this universe is just to big and to perfect for our lives to just end. I have a feeling of her being in a really great place and that there is a chance I might see her again. And this feeling isn't because of what I have learned or read, it's because of that experience I had. That helps me through those tough days.

I was only 12 when my Dad died. I was the "apple of his eye" and I felt similarity about him. The night he died, I was at summer camp. We were in the midst of the initiation ceremony for the new girls. It was a lovely ceremony with candles and everyone dressed in white. I was a new girl myself, so my candle had JUST been lit by one of the returning campers. I was standing holding my candle when suddenly I felt very alone. I was surrounded by all the other girls and counsellors, but it was suddenly like they were all in a dream and I was in my own clear reality by myself. I looked down at my candle and saw it flicker, as if in a gust of wind.... but it kept burning. Not only did it keep burning, but it seemed actually to burn brighter. I felt amazed and frightened by it. Later that night, my mother arrived to take me home, and told me that my Dad had dropped dead at the age of 52 on the tennis court when I had seen my candle flicker. I believe it was my Dad's spirit whoosing by me on his way to The Light, that caused my candle to flicker. I believe it was the perfect way for him to express his parting message to me: "Although my death causes your Inner Light to flicker, it WILL keep burning, and mine with you. Let your Little Light shine in the world!"

I was always a Daddy's girl. I thought my Dad was EVERYTHING! Handsome, smart & funny. My Dad died unexpectly from a house fire D/T smoke inhalation in May 2005. I was in shock that I would never speak to him or hear his laugh again. One night the week of his death I was sitting alone in my bedroom talking to him in my head. I said Dad if you're okay please give me a sign. Suddenly the room got a bright blue. My computer came on & the blue of the microsoft windows illuminated my room more brightly than I've ever seen. I couldn't believe it. It lasted about 2 minutes & just as suddenly turned itself off. I felt wonderful & have not worried about him since. I can't wait to see him again because I know now he is around. I don't fear death, I just fear the circumstances leading up to it.

Last week I had a dream with the message "It's about the code." It was repeated over and over, like a slogan, but in an insightful and loving way by everyone who said it. In the morning I awoke feeling rested and happy; I ran downstairs to share my dream with my family. It was then I learned that my best friend, Kate, had died during the night. I knew in that moment it was Kate speaking to me in my dreams. My first thought was, You'll always be able to find me, and I you. Then I cried because I knew her pain was over.