I was digging through my cedar chest today and found an old flash-drive that had the documents from my old computer.  I connected it to my computer and while looking at the documents I found this poem I wrote to my husband two years after he died in 2006.  I'm going to post it here...I'm not sure any of you will find it interesting; but this blog is a place for me to save the poems, experiences of spirit and insights I've had since losing my husband and son.

Such a beautiful man.
I thought you would live forever.
I would gaze at your profile as you drove
Or while you slept.

Your heart was strong
I thought it would beat forever.
Listening to its measured beats
As I lay with my ear on your chest.

You had a look of surprise
The day that pain gave notice.
Back pain; you'd had it before,
It would pass in time.

It was the look in your eyes
When the pain first came
That I would remember later.
You knew then what was coming.

Denial for me was a refuge.
I never believed you would die.
Someone else, perhaps
But not you, not ever you.

You acquiesced so gracefully
As I fussed around you (and raged)
You kept all that you felt inside,
Sparing us; as you always had.

As Cancer took its toll,
You became more beautiful.
I could feel your spirit,
Radiating beyond perimeters of flesh.

I never knew until then
How strong your spirit was.
Me, so reliant on your mental and physical strength.
Thinking that was who you were.

You were still beautiful when we buried you.
Looking so much like the young man I met,
When our bodies were as young as spirit always is.
We thought we'd live forever.

You have found forever; wait there for me
When I have found a way to embrace life
With all of the joy and gratitude you had,
Maybe then I will be ready to join you .

I was looking through my night-stand yesterday and came across a journal I kept after my Son died in 1996.  I hadn't seen it for several years.  It is a collection of letters I wrote to my son after his death; as well as an assortment of short entries about my feelings, insights and experiences of spirit that I believed (and still do believe) that my son sent to help me after his death.  One of the entries outlined an experience I had in the middle of the night on the very night he died.  I did not know when I had this experience that he had already died in his basement bathroom of an aneurism.  (I found him around 9:00 the next morning.)

I am going to copy the letter just as I wrote it in my "grief journal" not long after Jimmy died.

Dear Jimmy,

It has been almost four weeks since that awful morning that I found you dead on the floor of your bathroom.  You fell and slipped quietly away while I slept unaware two floors above you.  The coroner said you probably died around 2:00 a.m.  At 2:58 that morning I felt a light tingling touch on my shoulder and as I began to sit up to turn around to see who had touched me I happened to notice that time on the clock radio on your Dad's nightstand.  I then turned around and found Brianna standing quietly by my bed.  She had never gotten out of her bed in the middle of the night before; but I picked her up and put her in my bed.  I noticed she seemed quite wide-awake; but she finally settled down and we went to sleep.

The next afternoon; after all of it had unfolded; Heather asked Brianna "When did you last see Jimmy?" She said:  "In the middle of the night, he came and played with me and laid in my bed."  For some reason this didn't really register with me until a few days later when Brianna told me that you walked her in to mommy's room and said goodbye.  It was then that I realized who had touched me to wake me...it wasn't Bri as she is too small to reach up that high on our tall bed...it had to be you.  I knew you were there with your little sister; playing with her as you had in life, then bringing her to me as you said goodbye so she would not be left wide awake and wandering the house by herself!  I will never forget the gentle, shy touch that woke me up that night.

Love, Mom.

The experiences I share in this blog are precious to me; and quite personal; but I share them in the hope that they will help someone else along the path of grief and loss.

Jimmy's dad was out of town when he died; I had to call him out of a business seminar and tell him the awful news.  He then had to board a plane and ride home to Utah from Texas as he tried to process and deal with the terrible news of his oldest child's death.  Ten years and one month later; Jim died at 55 of stomach cancer.  I miss them both terribly; but take real comfort in knowing that they are now together.

I haven't posted for a long time. I'm posting a poem I wrote because there are times when I have a painful and very real need to go find my deceased (lost) loved ones. I know I cannot find them in the traditional way we find our living friends and family. I really don't need to "find" them because they are here with me all the time. It's just that their physical absence is so hard to deal with. When my son Jimmy died almost 16 years ago at 18; I felt a Mother's overpowering need to find him; to know that he was okay. I almost believed that if I went to the ends of the earth I could find him and bring him home. It was irrational, I knew that all along, but I felt such a tug. This poem is about that in a way.

If time and space were where you are

I search for you from star to star

I’d ride a blazing comet through

the deepest wormhole to find you.

I’d sail across the Galaxy,

on solar winds sans gravity.

On alien planets I’d stop to look,

and peek in every cranny and nook.

I wouldn’t stop till I could see,

your loving eyes looking back at me.

But you’re not here, in time and space;

You slipped into another place.

It’s not a galaxy away,

It’s in my heart; and there you’ll stay.

Okay....my last post was just too long...it will be a miracle if anyone has the time or inclination to read it. Today I'm posting a short one.

Hope sings,

Hope springs,

Hope is what I have.

I have been thinking a lot lately, about the nature of time. I've noticed that it isn't static; that it doesn't seem to flow along at the same even pace. It seems to run fast sometimes; at other times it seems to go painfully slow; and once in a great while it even seems to stop....depending on our shifting perspectives. As I look back over my life; time seems to fold up on itself...it all went by so fast! As I look forward; especially as I contemplate the realization that "time" is what stands between me and a reunion with my deceased loved ones; time seems to stretch out interminably. Sometimes, when I am thinking of my deceased husband or son, time seems suspended as I find myself re-living a memory. (I've noticed that sometimes memory is like reading previously read chapters in a book....the memory doesn't really live but seems like dry black words on white paper. They tell what happened in an earlier time; but you can't really see or feel it. Sometimes though; when I least expect it, and when I'm not trying too hard; a memory comes flooding back to me and flows with all the color and feeling I felt as the memory was being made. It is on these rare occasions that I am "transported" back to that time and place. The memories come alive and are so real; I experience them as if I am really back in the moments!)

When I had my own very brief "near death experience" as a five year old child; I experienced an out of body experience as my little body was "drowning" in a pool full of people. I remember so clearly that one of the most striking things about the experience was the realization that not only was I "out" of my body and looking down on the scene; but I was also "out" of time. I was in a timeless place and a timeless state. It wasn't long after this realization, as I watched my uncle pull me out of the water and put me on the side of the pool, that I found myself "back" in my body choking and gagging. This experience; remembered in detail as if it were yesterday; has helped me understand something about the nature of "time". I know it only exists for us here; that it is artificial....and that it does not exist in the spirit plane. The other thing I realized in those seconds/moments when I had this experience as a child; was that there is a part of us that does continue; that we do "live" on after death; and that we are still very much ourselves. I had an English teacher in High School explain to me that: "Time is an abstract entity; though it's effects are manifested in tangible and concrete ways." What we perceive as "concrete" are the cycles of life and nature. We actually live in the eternal present; though it seems we are "traveling" through time as we go through experiences that seem to happen along a linear lifeline. I've read many NDEr's (Near Death Experiencers) stories and they all talk about the fact that time did not exist when they were "out" of their bodies. Instead of talking about time passing during their NDE; they explain that everything, all experience and potential, seems to exist in that "place" all at once. The talk about going "deep" into the experience; where more and more of the truth and light of it is revealed to them; rather than describing it in terms of time. It's more of an unfolding.

I hope this makes some kind of sense to those of you who may someday read this. If we live in the eternal present; something that we can't perceive as mortals; (though we get glimpses of that paradox once in a great while) wouldn't it make sense to think that our deceased loved ones have never "left" us and exist in the same "Present" and and are all around us? I believe they not only live in the "eternal present" as we do; but they are also eternally present; we will see them when our true eyes are opened at death.

There is an old Helen Reddy song that I sometimes remember when I am thinking about the time when I will have my spirit eyes opened as my mortal eyes are closing. Some of the words go like this: "Time hurry by, carry me home, don't wait too long, knowing I'll travel much freer this time. And when I go home; my heart like a stone; he'll call me his own, when I go home."

I don't know why that song spoke to my heart when I was just out of high school...but it has always spoken to me of that time when I too will be going "home". I do not fear death; but I know that I have to fill up the "time" I have left here doing my best; and loving to the best of my ability to love, the ones who are still here in this time and place.

You

Such a small word.

Me

Even smaller.

I

Smaller still.

We

Bigger than I

Infinitely so.

Where did you go?

Where is the we

That used to be?

This is a poem I wrote after my husband died....I know he "lives" somewhere, somehow....but it is still so hard living without his physical presence. I miss him and our son sooooo much.

I have been thinking about the stress that life brings to each of us...especially when we have suffered through a loss. It's not just grief that we feel...that overpowering sorrow that seems to eclipse everything else; but with that often comes fear, and the stress that creates. FEAR. When my husband died in particular I felt overwhelming grief and fear. One of the first things my husband tried to get through to me after he died was that I shouldn't be afraid. He was very creative in trying to get through my wall of fear and grief. Sometimes in the midst of the emotion; we are not open to the messages of help and reassurance that our deceased loved ones are trying to give us. Not long after my husband died in 2006, I went with my cousin and Mom to a local book festival. Part of the agenda were workshops in everything from "Finding Your Inner Shaman", to "Writing your own story". We went to the Shaman workshop and were treated to an hour with a wonderful Native American Shaman from the Ute tribe. He was dressed in native costume; and told us about the Shaman traditions and healing. He cleansed the room with a burning sage bouquet; (smoking would be more the description); and told us about the Native American view of heaven and earth. After the workshop my cousin and I went to find a restroom before our next class. I had noticed an interesting and rather colorfully dressed woman across the room from me while we were in the Shaman class. She kept looking over at me with a odd look on her face. We encountered her in the restroom and she looked at me and said: "I need to give you a message." Startled I just said "What?" She said: "I feel I need to tell you not to be afraid." I was shocked; but knew that she had spoken to my need. I just mumbled a few words of thanks and left. I wish I had asked her more about why she felt to tell me that; and where it had come from. What I believed at the time, and still believe; was that my husband found a way to get that message through to me through her. He has brought real reassurance and comfort on many other occasions since. Sometimes I am open to the messages; and sometimes I am too steeped in fear. It's natural to feel fearful of the future when a spouse dies, but I think it's important to realize that fear gets in the way of finding peace and creative solutions for going forward. Fear can be crippling and influence decision making in ways that are not in our best interests. It also blocks communication from those who know best how to help us...those who have gone before. One of the things I have learned is that there is an undercurrent of peace and love in the Universe. In the midst of grief, fear and stress; it is possible to feel that oneness and all is wellness at times. I found that I was best able to do this when I went to a natural place...a lake, a canyon stream, a country path into the woods or fields. This is where you can best get in touch with what is older, bigger, timeless, and in harmony with that underlying peace. My heart goes out to all who are feeling the absence of loved ones; to all who grieve, to all who feel the fear of the unknown that comes with change.

It's been awhile since I last wrote. I can't seem to write just because I want to....it seems I have to be inspired to write. On July 29th, it will have been 5 years since my husband died at 55 of cancer. It has been a tough five years in many ways. I've had to learn to do so many things I'd never done before...pay the bills, do the taxes, maintain a house and yard...etc. Most of all I've had to deal with being the only mortal one in this relationship. I'm sure that sounds odd; yes, I'm still in a relationship. I still feel remarkably connected to my sweetheart; in fact, our relationship is an ongoing thing. (I've spoken in other posts about the communication that continues between us.) Being a "mixed" couple (one mortal the other a spirit being, or former mortal) has its limitations to be sure. (Yes, this is a bit "tongue in cheek"; but don't for a moment think I don't mean what I'm saying.) I have had to learn to deal with the limitations: the absence of the physical manifestation of my husband, the longing for his touch, the sight of him, the sound of his voice, etc. Notice I did not say that I long for his PRESENCE....that is still very much with me. As a blind person learns to "see" with enhanced and highly developed senses other than sight; I have learned to hone and rely at times on my "spirit senses". We do have spirit "eyes" and "ears". We can perceive with that "other" part of us that is not physical.

I can sense when my husband, son, or other non-physical entity is close. I can somehow "know" what they are trying to communicate to me. I have had this ability for as long as I can remember...though it seems to have become much stronger since my son died at 18 in 1996. I don't think this ability is particularly unique because I believe it's an ability we can all develop. I think the first step toward developing this enhanced perception is believing that it is possible. We also have to believe that there is another dimension of being...and that our personalities/spirits are eternal. I also practice a method I call "going deep". If there is a question I need answered from someone who has passed on; I ask the question then close my eyes and shut out all the external signals. I have to consciously clear out my thoughts and that is when I "go deep". (That is the part of the process I can't really describe.) I seem to go to a very quiet and deep part of my self....then I become very still and listen. I have had some profound experiences with this. I am able (not always, but often) to "know" or "hear" what the answer is. These answers seem to come from a place outside my own consciousness and thought-processes. These are things I couldn't have known, but have later proven to be true. One somewhat humorous example: Just before my husband got sick we were going to the horse track to watch a friend's horse race. We needed to be there at a certain time to see this particular race. As we were getting ready to leave, my husband went looking for his car keys. He couldn't find them anywhere. I had a set of duplicate keys but he needed his to get something from his trunk he needed to give the man whose horse we were going to see. His search for the keys was fruitless and frustrating. He had been sitting in a recliner before we started looking, so he looked there three times...even turning the chair upside down. I could see how upset he was getting so I thought of my friend Sally's Mom who was able to "find" anything. Friends and family members would call her from all over and say: Muriel, I've lost my _____. Can you tell me where it is?" Muriel would say a prayer, then call them back to tell them where to find their lost thing. (Invariably she was right!) Muriel had been deceased for about two years when I decided (with a chuckle) to ask her where to find my husband's keys. I ask her (not out loud, but in my head) "where are Jim's keys?" I then "went deep" and listened. It wasn't long before I heard; clear as a bell in my "mind's ear" Muriel's answer: "Your sitting on them!" It sounded just the way Muriel would have said it in life....she even sounded a bit irritated, as if I had interrupted her. I thought "Jim's looked in that chair three times." but I had to go look yet again. I stuck my hand deep into the side of the chair cushion; and sure enough, there were his keys. Jim could not believe I'd found his keys. We made it to the racetrack and had one of the last fun days together we would have before he got sick. I do believe that there are times when we won't get answers....I believe that on that particular day there was a purpose to my getting that prompt answer to such a mundane thing...PURPOSE is the key word. I believe that it was important for us to find Jim's keys so we could get on with being together. We didn't know then how short his time was. There is a purpose to everything; though most of the time we only get to see the purpose in hindsight. I still haven't seen the purpose in Jim's dying so young....I struggle to find the purpose in my being here alone in the physical sense. I do know that I'm not really alone...that there are those who are with us still.

I was thinking today of what I have learned from my experiences of spirit since my loved ones died.....and I decided to write them here. I hope these things will be helpful, comforting, or perhaps just food for thought. I've decided to put them in bullet points to make them easier to read.

1. The Powers of Heaven: ( God, Jesus, our deceased loved ones, the collective consciousness, and/or our higher selves) know what is coming before we do....and we are given help and prepared beforehand. We will have preparatory thoughts, feelings, promptings and experiences that we will often remember later with a new perspective after we have been through the loss or hardship.

2. Our deceased loved ones (especially those recently departed who we grieve for most acutely) are with us in a very real sense. They help us by bringing peace and comfort when we need it the most. They prompt us to "know" or do things that are important. I felt prompted to take the life insurance money OUT of the stock market just before it fell in 2008. My recently deceased husband was still taking care of us! They help us remember the good times to give us hope. I have felt my husband or son's very real "right there" presence on many occasions...in the car, places we went together, the house; I have even felt my husband's presence next to me where he slept on our bed.

3. Our deceased loved one's personalities are intact! They are still the wonderful, funny, kind, goofy....whatever people they were in life! They miss us too....but because their perspective is very different where they are, they know how brief the missing really is.

4. They want more than anything for us to be happy...to get on with life, and to "focus on the living". The reason I put that phrase into quotation marks is because it is a phrase that came to me from my Son Jimmy in the weeks after he died. I was absolutely devastated at his death at 18, and spent a lot of that summer in my bed. I had a three year old and three other children in their teens who needed me. He prompted me to get up and take care of, and "focus" on the other children.

5. Our deceased loved ones have "lives" on the other side...at some point or another they will turn their attentions elsewhere. This does NOT mean they aren't still VERY close. They will be right at your side if and when you need them to be.

6. One of the hardest things I've come to realize since my loved ones have died...especially after having so many beautiful and sustaining experiences of spirit; is that the spiritual "visits" that are so brief, yet so transcendent; do not come just because I want them to. I cannot "will" them to come to comfort me or give me a sign. I can't pray them to me, beg them to me, or cajole or plead them to me. They come when they come. It is not under my control as far as I can tell. They come to fulfill a purpose...and this purpose is known only to the powers of heaven, and initiated by them. They KNOW what we need, how we feel and how much we are hurting.

7. They will not get in the way of our will. I have learned this one the hard way. I have felt "prompted" or warned about a couple of things but did not listen. Because I am hard-headed and headstrong; I sometimes have to do things my own way and pay the price.

8. This is the last one for now....but the MOST important. I have learned that LOVE is eternal, it is the "Tie that Binds" us together. Our relationships and love endure....they have always been, and will always be. It isn't our religious beliefs that determine where we end up; or who we end up with....its the quality of the love we show to one another.

I hadn't posted for quite awhile on this blog....in fact I'd just about given up on it, thinking that no one would read it or care. I was so surprised to see two new comments! Thank you for writing. Your words brought me comfort when I so needed it myself.

As beautiful and transcendent as these experiences of spirit are.....we still have to live in the "in between". It takes a lot of courage and hope to keep going.

Those of you (us) who have been through these hard losses need to hold on. (I'm speaking to myself as much as to anyone else out there) There are others who have been through similar experiences, you (we) are not alone! (I also mean that in the sense that there are unseen forces/loved ones who are supporting us too!)

Don't give up....I won't either.

Shelley

I just re-read my last post....I realize it's a little esoteric....but that's essentially what this whole blog is about. There is so much more to life than meets the eye! I wish we as people and society in general could give more credence to these kinds of experiences. We are both physical and spiritual beings. We will have experiences of both kinds.

I've been wondering how to describe the indescribable, how to express the inexpressible....how does one put into words that which there are no words for? How does one tell about an experience of spirit, without it being diminished in the telling of it? That's the dilemma I face as I try to recount here some of the experiences I've had. Just before, and for a long time after my son Jimmy died, I felt like a window was opened in my spirit. I had experiences, and "knew" things that were beyond earthly norms. In time, the window closed, and I was left with only the memories of that time, and the experiences I had in it. I have not felt the same level of open-ness and connectedness I had to the spiritual realm since my husband died, though I have had beautiful and meaningful experiences that were more subtle. (With the exception of the one I described in my last post; which was exceptional.) It's one thing to describe as best I can the actual experiences, but I cannot put into words the feelings of wonder that came with them, and the absolute "knowing" that made them so real to me....the reality and truth of the experience that exceeds the "reality" we live every day. I know those of you who have experienced these kinds of things will understand what I'm saying. Believing in the possibility of these kinds of experiences makes it more likely that you will have them. One thing I have also come to realize about these "otherworldly" experiences is that they have what I call a "perfection of purpose". This means that you can't "will" them to happen. They come as they come, and when they come, it is to fulfill a higher purpose.

Another experience I had after Jimmy (my son) died, was that I had a dream one night that was different from the usual, fragmented dreams I normally have. This dream was very clear, and I was experiencing it as an observer, instead of as the "actor". It followed a clear, somewhat rational path; with a start and finish that seemed more logical than my usual dreams. It felt different in every way from an average "common" dream. In this dream, I saw myself in the "Holodeck" on a space-ship. It was like the "Holodeck" on the Enterprise from the television series that was a sequel to the original "Star Trek". ( This version was called Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) I was in a large room with white walls, and I was alone. The "me" I was watching from above, was unaware that there were not others around, and was unaware that there wasn't a "world" around her. I watched "myself" interacting, talking, and going through the motions of my "life" in this place where the computer generates a three dimensional, holographic, virtual "reality". I then became aware that my son was standing outside the holodeck door, and that the true reality was where he was; right beyond the door. It was vaster and more magnificent than anything I had ever seen.

I believe Jimmy sent me this "vision" because he knew I'd understand and recognize the reference to the television show we'd often watched together late at night. He was showing me something about the nature of reality; it is an illusion. It is a complex virtual exercise designed to give us experience. Quantum physics is proving this to be true....what we perceive to be real is just a construct, the vision that our senses project and create out of the energy waves that are what's really "out there". The other thing I have experienced (in this dream and in some wide awake moments) is being "out of time"...in a place where time does not exist, and you feel a perfect connectedness with everything. Time and space are illusion. We are all projections of the "one" intelligence; like the aspen forest, not many trees, but ONE organism, all connected to the immense root system just below the surface....

I had an extraordinary experience after my husband died in the summer of 2006. In October of that year, I had a visit from some very good friends who were driving to Idaho to visit their daughter. They made a point of driving out of their way to come to Southern Utah to see me. One evening my friend Sue and I were in the downstairs family room talking about my husband Jim. I was on the large couch that stretched across the middle of the room. Sue was sitting to right on the love seat. Behind her on the wall was a large watercolor painting with a glass front. As we were talking I saw, clear as a bell, Jim's reflection in the glass on the painting! It was a reflection of him walking across the area to my left, which would have been directly in front of Sue. I stopped in mid sentence, and yanked my whole body to the left as quickly as I could. Sue went sort of white, as I probably had, and she said: "Shelley, WHAT did you see?!" I had seen my husband from the middle of his chest up, looking as he had in his thirties (he died at 55) with his light brown hair back in place of the grey. There was a chair just to the left of the television facing me that was angled facing both the love seat and chair. It was as if he'd been sitting there, and had stood up and walked across the room. I had caught his "reflection" as he walked by. Of course I didn't see him after I turned, but I had definitely and distinctly seen his reflection in the glass of the painting!

I was amazed and speechless, as was Sue. I told her what I had seen, and though she hadn't seen anything, she had seen my face and my startled response. Though I had had "experiences" of spirit before, I had never seen something like that with my eyes. It was another witness to me of the reality of the fact that our deceased loved ones don't really leave us, they "live" in one way or another.

I haven't written for awhile. I sort of wait until I am "moved" to write. I remembered two other significant (to me) things that occurred shortly after my son died. My daughter was only three when her big brother died. She was aware that Jimmy was gone, and had some very quiet moments. He had been the cutest, most protective big brother. He would walk her up and down the sidewalk, or sit outside on a bench in the yard and watch her as she played in her new pool. He loved to "rescue" her when she'd been put to bed....she just had to call out Jee Jee (her way of saying Jimmy) and he would pick her up out of her crib. He would lay his big frame across the floor, lay on his tummy to get to her level, and play with her in her room. The day after he died I was sitting on the floor of her room, in a state of shock, while she played with her toys. She suddenly said: "Mom, are you sad." I looked up at her and saw that she was still looking down at her toys as she asked me this quiet question. I said "Yes". She asked: "Is it because Jimmy died?" I said yes again, and this is when she looked up, looked me right in the eye, and said with the maturity and authority of a grown up, "You need to be happy like Jimmy." "Is Jimmy happy?" I asked; and she said "Yes!" It was an singular moment. I knew that she KNEW. A couple of weeks later I was sitting on the Stairs in our house sobbing rather loudly. I heard a little voice from around the corner but couldn't hear the words. Brianna was playing under the dining room table, and had tried to tell me something. I said: "What, what did you say?" She said: "Mom, don't cry; Jimmy is here, and he's helping us." She was able to see, understand and hear what I couldn't.

Our deceased loved ones are very much with us, they know what we are going through, and they are helping us.

I have had some experiences of spirit that have shown me that not only are we supported in our losses, but we are also prepared ahead of time. This preparation comes to us on a level above our consciousness. We are either "informed" about a coming event, or we "remember" on a higher, more spiritual level that something is going to happen; something we have "seen" before.

The night before I found my son Jimmy had died, I had a rather unusual experience. It didn't seem particularly unusual at the moment, because I didn't yet have the perspective I would have after Jimmy died, and in light of all that was coming. I was in bed thinking about my grandmother (My Dad's Mother) Hannah. I remembered something I hadn't seen or thought about in years; a family history that my Aunt had written and compiled that I had had in a file cabinet. I got out of bed and went to find it. I don't remember if I read the whole thing, but I do remember reading about Hannah's young life. The thing that stuck out to me was that she had lost an older brother and a younger sister within about a year of each other. She also lost a baby shortly after birth. I was struck by the losses she had suffered and felt not only sympathy for her, but at that moment, felt that she was very near.

I had other preparatory type experiences which I may talk about later. I am still awestruck by, not only the number of singular, spiritual experiences I have had, but by the beauty and personal nature of them. We are known, loved, supported, protected, and prepared by an invisible legion who know what we are going through, and what we will go through before our lives are over.

I just added a picture of my cute husband Jim holding our darling Granddaughter, Abbey. This is the picture we chose for his head stone. He was the cutest guy. He loved his family first, above all else. It will be four years since he died, and I still can't believe he's gone. He was the light, life and heart of our family.

Me again. I don't know that many people will ever read this, but it's therapy for me to write it down.....so here goes.

I had another experience with a butterfly before my son died in 1996. It was just a day or two before he died. I came home from lunch and shopping with my Mom and Brianna. My daughter Bri was just three at the time, and in her car seat in the back seat. As I opened the sliding door on my van to get her out, I noticed a very large yellow and black butterfly lying on it's side on the garage floor. It was alive, and as I picked it up to show Brianna, it perched on my finger. I showed it to Brianna while I was unbuckling her carseat with my other hand. I helped her down out of the car, and said: "Lets take it outside and see if it can still fly. It had a large half moon shaped "bite mark" hole in one wing, so I was not at all sure it could fly. We walked around to the side yard by the garage, and I swung up my hand. The butterfly soared upward and away from us, flying as well as any I had seen. It landed far above in a cottonwood tree. We then went into the house, and forgot about the butterfly. I didn't think of it until sometime after Jimmy had died. I realized that it had been a sign to us. It amazed me that even with such an injury to it's wing, the butterfly could still soar. I think that is true of all of us...life is full of pain and injury, none of us come through it unscathed...yet we can all still soar.

I found out after my experiences with the white butterfly that butterflies are a very real symbol of rebirth. The butterfly doesn't die to be reborn....it is transformed. I think the life cycle of the caterpillar/butterfly is a perfect metaphor for early life and death. The lowly, earthbound caterpillar is transformed into a butterfly, a creature that has grown beautiful wings, and transcends it's earlier incarnation. I believe that is what it is like to die, our energy and personality never dies, we are transformed, and transcend the limits of the physical plane. Quantum Physics tells us that energy is never lost, diminished or destroyed; it just changes form. I have felt the energy and presence of my deceased loved ones on many occasions. They live. Sometimes it is almost enough to know that....other times the physical absence of them pushes me to the edge of endurance. I do try to remember this when life gets hard; there is sooooo much more to life than meets the eye!

Three weeks or so, after my son died, I was cooking breakfast on a Sunday morning for the first time since the Sunday before he died. I stopped for a moment to look at a cute picture of him that I'd put on the fridge door. I felt such a hole in my center, as if a real hole had been blasted through me. I thought: "My family is broken, it's no longer whole." At that moment I felt my son's presence, and I realized that he was standing by the fridge, just to the left of me. At that instant, I felt the hole in me fill up with warmth and peace. In that timeless moment, I also heard (in my mind's ear) my son saying: "Mom, I'm not far away, I'm just out of sight."

I know he spoke the truth, he was very near; but in a form that I couldn't perceive with my earth-eyes. My family IS whole.

I know that this all sounds a little strange, and I'm sure there are those of you (some of my friends and family) who, if you ever come to read this, will think: "Poor Shelley, she's finally gone "round the bend". Well, you may be right, but I don't think so!

I am creating a blog for those who have lost loved ones. It is for those who need or want to talk about their experiences and loved ones. It is also a place where you may share experiences of spirit; the kinds of wondrous and unexplainable things that happen when a deceased loved one finds a way to get through.

I lost my wonderful 18 year old son James to an aneurism in 1996, then lost my darling husband of 31 years in 2006 to stomach cancer. I am not a religious person, but I am very spiritual. I was amazed at the incredible amount of invisible (spiritual) support I felt after the losses of my loved ones. I had some extraordinary experiences of spirit after both of my family members died, and realized that they were both very close, and that they were finding very creative and personal ways to get through to me and other family members. I found that when I tried to discuss these "messages" with others, I ran into a wall of polite skepticism and disbelief.

These experiences are as real to me as the computer I'm typing on, yet I found that I had to keep them to myself for the most part. People are not only uncomfortable talking about someone who has died, but they don't have a belief system, context or language for discussing experiences of spirit: especially when those experiences are outside of a religious setting or religious belief system. Sometimes these experiences fall outside of the framework of what is considered possible or probable based on what we've been taught.

I believe it is essential to healing that we are able to talk about our experiences with loss, and the people who are "missing" in our physical lives. I hope this blog will be a safe place for these kinds of discussions.

Shelley