Connecting With Loved Ones Who Have Passed

As I stated in my January 16th article, “Is There Life After Life,” for many years I’ve had a curiosity about the infinitive properties of life. This curiosity has lead me to fill my personal library with books written by noted, and in some cases scientifically tested, psychic mediums such as John Edward, James Van Praagh, Sylvia Browne, and George Anderson. I have seen three of them, as well as psychic medium Lisa Williams and Brian L. Weiss, M.D., author of “Many Lives, Many Masters,” speak live and in person. There are several intriguing accounts of the life after life phenomenon in books that I have read such as near death survivors Betty Eade’s “Embraced by the Light,” and Paul Perry’s “Saved by the Light.” I have read fascinating, eye opening books written by respected physicians Raymond Moody, M.D., the world’s leading authority in the field of near death experiences, and Elisabeth Kubler Ross, M.D., a pioneer in near death studies. My bibliography could go on and on.

I preface this article with these references to suggest that my investigation into the life after life phenomenon is extensive. Not only have I read more books than I can recall on this controversial subject matter and witnessed a plethora of evidence through others before my very eyes, I have also had a few undeniable experiences myself.

The phenomenon that I am referring to is not ghostly or ghoulish. Most often these are loving experiences, not frightening ones. Our loved ones on the other side do not want us to be fearful; they come out of a love that’s purer than we can ever begin to grasp. So how one interprets the other-worldly connection is based on the level of their belief and understanding. The difference between thinking we have had a loving connection with those on “the other side” and knowing for sure that we really have had one is the lasting impact that remains and the vivid recall the experience imbeds in our memory.

In one of my own experiences, in addition to what was lovingly meant for me, I was given an important message to pass on to someone else. That “someone else,” the spirit’s mother, was as far removed as one can get from even the tiniest inkling of what I was about to share with her. I wondered, “How amI going to deliver this message to someone who I was sure could not conceive of what I was to tell them—who was grieving the finality of the loss of her child?” How would I present the difficult but important message that I had been entrusted with? Would she receive it with anger, resentment, pain, or distrust? Would she embrace me as a loving messenger, sink deeper into despair, or never speak to me again? I wrestled with these questions for a few days, my conscience torn between the possibility of hurting someone deeply, of appearing like I had lost my mind, and the responsibility I felt to fulfill this loving request.

My spiritual friend had gone above and beyond to prove his existence and to assure my belief in his authenticity. Though I wasn’t ready—I could never be prepared for something like that–there was only one acceptable answer to my conundrum. Though I may have not personally understood the importance of his message, I had to trust the sender’s intentions, though this would take a giant leap of faith on my part. To be effective, I felt that my delivery to his mother must be given face to face. I made a telephone call and scheduled a time to visit with her, but under a different pretense.

We sat down together on the sofa in her apartment and had a lovely chat. I eased into the delivery of the bomb I believed I was about to drop on her, began slowly revealing my odd but profound experience. She focused her attention on my words as her eyes got wider and wider. She asked me many questions, sincerely trying to understand the concept of talking with “dead people.” And then I delivered the message I was there to tell her. I explained that her son, as well as other loved ones who had passed on, were very concerned about her hopeless state of mind. They had been trying to reach her, to get her attention, but had been unable to. She was receptive and open to the news; though I’m not sure she totally “got it.” She seemed happy with our conversation and I left on a high note.

I wish I could report that this story had a dramatic, earth-shattering ending, but I can’t. Maybe somewhere down the line it will, and maybe it won’t. We are all messengers of sorts many times throughout our life, sometimes consciously and deliberately, and sometimes not. We may never know the serendipitous domino effect of our actions or reactions in life, but messages of hope and love should always prompt a call to duty, no matter how uncomfortable we may find it.

Our loved ones who have passed on want us to know that they are very much alive, happy, and aware of what we are doing. When they know we are happy, they are at peace. Acknowledging their presence is the greatest gift we can give to them. They know that they’ll be joyously reunited with us before long. I find that prospect very comforting.

Love Always,

Randi

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