It’s time to tell my story. It’s a long one, so go grab a drink… the words that follow will wait.

I was flipping through Netflix shows and came across this one Series called “Surviving Death” and it’s about life after death, signs from deceased loved ones, etc. And for a long time I’ve always believed that there’s gotta be something else after death that it’s not just dead blackness. Now, I don’t believe in God. I don’t believe in a higher power but I do believe in that our conscience still exists beyond the shell of our own bodies.

One episode talks about signs from family members who have died. Birds or butterflies appearing where they shouldn’t have appeared. Stuff like that. Well, I have a few incidents of something similar happening to me.

My Grandmother

My grandmother on my mother’s side passed away when I was 12. She was heavily religious, a born again. She used to have prayer meetings at her house and I sit with her and her group while they chanted and spoke in tongue. When you’re 10, it was funny. I just didn’t believe. When I would spend the night she would sit at the foot of my bed and pray over me. Sometimes she would try to heal me. She’d put her hand on my forehead and speak in tongue and then she would tell me to let myself fall backwards if I felt the need to fall because I was at the foot of my bed, I’d have something soft to fall back onto. It never happened. And quite honestly, I used to feel her pushing my forehead, almost trying to make me fall over. I told my mother this and my mother confronted her and said, don’t do it anymore, you’re scaring her. I don’t think she did ever do it again.

The lead up to her death happened on Christmas morning. She stated she didn’t feel very well. She wound up in the hospital and riddled with cancer. She had cancer of the liver. She spent 4 months in the hospital and on Good Friday, she passed away. So right there were two odd signs from her death. She got ill on the day Jesus was suppose to have been born, and died on the day that Jesus was suppose to have risen from the dead. I dunno. So I hear.

As the years passed after her death I was 16 and in high School. I think of her often and still do. I look at old photos and miss her sweet round face and her singing while playing the organ. The last song I remember hearing her sing was “I Did It My Way”. When I hear that song now, I break down in tears. 

So when I was 16 I had a dream and it was the oddest dream I had ever had. I dreamt the phone rang, my mother answered it and she said “Donna it’s for you”. I took the phone and said Hello. The voice on the other end said, “Hi Donna, it’s Meme, I just wanted to wish you a Happy Easter” and that was the extent of the dream. This was the one and only dream I’ve ever had about my Grandmother. I’m 54 now and have never dreamt of her since. To this day I still believe it was her letting me know she’s still around. 

Jeannie

What can I say about her. Let’s just say I wasn’t very fond of Jeannie. We never did see eye to eye. But she was my mother’s partner, friend, soul-mate. Jeannie got sick with cancer and stayed at home while my mother cared for her. Now before I go a bit further I need to lay out a visual of their house.

When you walked in the front door you’re immediately standing in the living room. The door was at the far right side of the living room so when you step in, approximately 10 feet forward is a set of stairs that led to the second floor. Looking to the left was the living room that would lead into the kitchen, and then the basement door wasn’t visible unless you were in the kitchen facing the living room.  Move to the stairs and go up to the landing. The far left door in the hall was my Mother’s bedroom. The middle room was a computer type room or sewing room, the 3rd door going right was a bathroom and the last door to the right was Jeannie’s bedroom.

The Living room was where Jeannie was setup for her hospice or whatever it’s called when you’re cared for at home. The couch that was against one wall that faced the stairs was replaced by a hospital bed and that’s where Jeannie was for the remaining days she had. My mother cared for her, looked after her, gave her meds, washed her etc.  Jeannie wasn’t really able to talk. The cancer she had had taken most of her lungs. On the day she died my mother had a hair appointment and wanted desperately to cancel it but Jeannie said no. Go. Reluctantly my mother went and in that time, Jeannie passed away.

When my mother returned to find that this had happened my mother had a huge sense of guilt run through her. She wanted to be with her when she passed. Hold her hand. But Jeannie being stubborn, I think she wanted to go alone. My mother called me to let me know of her passing and I asked her if she wanted company. My mother of course said yes, she didn’t want to be alone.

When I got to her house the living room had already been transformed back into the living room it was in. The hospital bed was gone and the couch was back in it’s place. Considering the fact that Jeannie literally had just passed away was a bit unnerving. Standing in the house she just died in hours earlier was hard to comprehend. My mother was upset and crying.

I asked her if she wanted me to stay with her overnight. She said yes. I stayed.

What happened after was just beyond my comprehension and just an awesome experience. I don’t care if you believe it or not, it happened to me and it happened to my mother and we will never forget it.

When it came time for bed, my mother told me I could take Jeannie’s room. I thought ok, since she died downstairs in the living room I should be ok up in her room. The date was July 14th, so summer was around. The nights were warm. I went up to her room and laid in her bed. But I felt very uneasy. I can’t describe how I felt. I guess like I wasn’t suppose to be in there. Knowing Jeannie, I shouldn’t have been in her room. I think I laid there for about a half hour, the wind was warm blowing through the window and I decided, nah, I can’t sleep up here. I can’t do it. I don’t feel good about this. I’m creeped out. Just that odd feeling. So I got up, walked down to the other end of the hall to my mom’s room and I could hear my mom sobbing a bit, soft cries… I said in a soft tone. “Mom? I can’t sleep up here, it’s too hot, I’m gonna go lay on the couch in the living room.” I lied of course. I didn’t want to tell her I was feeling uneasy and creeped out. She said through cracked tears, “ok”.

I made myself comfortable on the couch, the same place Jeannie had passed away. But I felt way better. Like weight had lifted off me. But the quiet was crazy. The TV backed against the stairs and I knew if I turned it on it would have to be super low so my mother wasn’t bothered by it. I turned it on and put some random station on like Nickelodeon or some all night station. TV was ultra low, I practically had to lip read. Suddenly the light in the hallway upstairs went on or I saw a light coming from upstairs. I looked above the tv waiting for my mother to come down the stairs but I didn’t see her. I said a soft … “Mom?” but she didn’t answer and then the light went off.

The next morning the phone ringing woke me up and I could hear my mother talking upstairs. She was talking to Jeannie’s daughter and I could hear my mother talking about something but what she then said after, freaked me out. 

My mother stated that she was laying in bed and crying. The guilt she felt for not being with Jeannie when she passed was just eating her up inside. She laid there and cried and kept saying “I’m so sorry Jeannie, please forgive me, please. I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me? Please give me some sort of sign that you forgive me.” Then her bedroom light went on. My mother looked towards the bedroom door and called my name thinking it was me that turned on her light. But I wasn’t there. Instead I had saw the light go on from downstairs.

She got up and had to physically press the button to turn the light back off. She investigated the light switch and it’s not like it was on a rocker switch and at a point where it was half rocked to easily slip into an ON position. This was an actual press the button to turn it on and press it again to turn it off. You can actually hear the click sound. But she didn’t hear any click when the light went on. It just…. went on.

Needless to say we certainly discussed this the next morning and my mother took it as a sign that Jeannie had forgiven her for not being there when she passed. It was such a cool experience.

Whether or not any of this is just coincidental I’ll never know. I just know I experienced it. And I want to believe it. I want to believe that we’re being watched and looked after by our loved ones who have passed. That from time to time a sign will appear, whether it’s in a dream or during our daily routines.

Have you ever experienced something unusual? Please share it in the comments below.