A Sign from the afterlife?

[chi]

I want to relay this story because up until this point, despite my avid interest in all this kind of spiritual/supernatural stuff and loving Daniel's book, I am (or was?) at heart a hard-core atheist. I want so much to believe but all of it just seems like wish-fulfillment because we are so afraid of death and nothingness. Logic would always rule out over any of this. Anyway, about 3 weeks ago, my dog died. This was to say the least an extremely difficult experience for me. I have never grieved so hard, feeling like a hole had been ripped right through me. I am ashamed to say that this death was even harder for me than when my best friend died two years ago. Perhaps it is because I lived with her for years alone before I got married, and she went through a lot of tough times with me, perhaps because my husband and I are unable to have children, and she was my child, I don't know, but it was shattering in a way I can't even describe. She died at about 7:15 AM in the morning, in my arms. At the time, my husband was coming home from a trip he had taken down South. When I told him what happened when he came home, he told me that at exactly 7:15 when he was on the road, a rock came out of nowhere and hit his windshield. He, also an atheist, expressed the idea that maybe it was Brie (our dog) saying goodbye. It sounded like a nice idea, but I wasn't really all that convinced. He insisted that there was nobody on the road, and so it was impossible for that to happen. Still, I thought, nice idea, but I kind of doubt it. Anyway, about a week later, I was driving to work and suddenly was hit with a deluge of grief, and I started crying as I drove. I started praying, something I never did in my life, asking God with all my might to please, please let me know that Brie is ok. I told God that I could deal with my own pain, but what I couldn't deal with was the thought that Brie was all alone in the afterlife, scared and wondering where I was, or worse, that she was nothing. I really put all the energy I could into that prayer, saying please, if you exist, please answer this for me! Then, I drove on to work and sort of forgot about the whole thing as I got caught up in the day. Later, driving home on the Garden State Parkway, all of a sudden...you guessed it, yes, a rock hit my windshield! Out of nowhere. This has never happened to me before, and I can't imagine that this is anything but a sign...just too coincidental. A huge wave of relief just went through me at the time as you can imagine, and a new window inside of me opened as well, the real possibility that her spirit exists! So, I am so sorry for this incredibly longwinded explanation; hope it wasn't too boring. But perhaps maybe I have given hope to anyone else who may be grieving or who may have been as cynical as I. I still miss her terribly and have this crazy notion that she will be reincarnated into the new puppy I plan to get (they are not yet born so the timing is impeccable!). Thanks for letting me tell my story.

[sidecross]

My dog "Mister" died this past March suddenly of liver failure. He was 12 years old. I got him as a 2 year old rescue whose abuse consisted of neglect except for feeding and a place to sleep. He was so happy to see anyone that a squirt bottle was needed to even get him calm enough to be leashed, and even then he would pull your shoulder nearly out of its socket; he was a 65lb Shepard lab mix. In less than a year's time he was totally off lease and voice trained to carry out commands. He went with me every where and if he could not come, I would not go.

For the next ten years the longest we were ever a part was the six hours he was at the vet. They did blood work to be sent out, blood work that could be done there, and six x-rays. "Mister" did not want to be taken for his treatment, and we had to leave the examination room for the handlers to remove him.

Six hours latter they called to say we could take "Mister " home; they found no problem with the 6 x-rays & in-house blood work. They said to call the following morning to hear the results of the sent out blood work.

"Mister" climbed into our bed that night and became comatose by 3:00am and died.

The blood work the next day showed liver failure. It is my belief "Mister" did what needed to be done to get back to his home; he did not want to die away from his surroundings and his known and trusted human companions.

The grief we felt was profound. I do know what you mean by your post.

In three weeks time we rescued a Pit-Bull & Lab mix; she was 8 months old and living in a foster home. Her two homes before included starvation and physical abuse.

Her name is "Respect" and she has made great progress. In many ways she is not the dog "Mister" was, but the ways that are different are just as endearing. We are never apart which to me is the greatest training technique.

The bond "Respect" and I have is already profound and it is this bond that brings "Mister" back into my heart.

[chi]

Thanks for your response. Sounds like you do truly understand the beauty of having a relationship with an animal friend. What a lovely name, Respect! Your thoughts really made me feel good.

[dragonfly]

Chi, I’m very sorry about your dog’s death and empathize with your grief. My husband’s and my Australian shepherd died of cancer last year, and it was an emotionally devastating experience. We have another Aussie now who we love dearly, but we still miss her predecessor every single day. Fortunately the passage of time has helped us focus more on our happy memories of her than the sad ones.

Your story about the rocks is fascinating. I’ve never received a communication from my deceased dog (despite much wishing!), but my mother, niece and I have had unusual experiences since my father’s death five years ago that have led me to wonder whether the dead can communicate with the living.

The weirdness began with my niece, who was 3 when my father passed away. They adored each other; he called her his “girlfriend.” One day not long after his funeral, while visiting his grave with her mother, the little girl pointed to a nearby tree and in a completely matter-of-fact way announced that her Pap-Pap was standing there. My sister-in-law explained that he was buried in the ground, but the girl insisted he was standing right there. My sister-in-law could see nothing and was unnerved by her daughter’s strange behavior.

A short time later, the little girl informed her parents that Pap-Pap came to her and said she’d be getting a little sister. Around the same time, my mom had a vivid dream of my father in which he joked with her that he now had “two girlfriends.”

Soon after, my sister-in-law learned she was pregnant – with another girl.

My mom also has had some uncanny experiences while awake in which my dad seems to be reaching out to her. One day a few months after his death she was feeling sad and overwhelmed and called aloud on him for help. A moment later she looked down and found one of his ever-present wooden toothpicks (a source of a lot of teasing and jokes) lying on a carpet that’s vacuumed daily. On another occasion, my mom over-wound an antique clock that had belonged to his mother and that he'd always taken care of. She couldn’t get it to work and again called aloud on my dad for help. A little while later she was in another room when she realized she heard the clock’s familiar tick-tock. She went to check and found the clock was not only working – it told the correct time.

Besides the dream about my dad’s “two girlfriends,” my mom has had other unusually vivid dreams about him. She says they seem so real they leave her wondering whether she was asleep or awake.

She had one the week before last. In it my dad showed up at their home in a black limousine. She went out to greet him and he looked very sad, so my mom asked him if he was all right. He said he was OK and then the dream ended. The next morning my mom got a call from my uncle telling her my cousin who we were close to had committed suicide the night before.

For a long time I could only imagine what my mom meant when she described these vivid dreams. I’ve dreamed about my dad since his death, but those dreams didn’t feel real like the ones my mom described. But last week I had one of those vivid dreams about him for the first time, and now I know exactly what she means.

It happened last Monday, the day of my cousin’s memorial service, which I had driven to Pennsylvania to attend. I was staying at my family’s home in my old bedroom. I awoke at dawn feeling chilly and got up to get a comforter. When I feel back asleep, I dreamed my father came into the room, sat on the edge of my bed and in a gently kidding manner asked what I was doing there.

Just as my mom had described, it seemed like he was really there, and I felt intensely happy to be near him. The room in my dream appeared as it really was (early light streaming through the blinds, comforter hastily tossed on the bed) and from the perspective I would have viewed it had it actually been happening. I told my father how upset everyone was about my cousin’s death.

“I know,” he said sadly. Then the dream ended and I awoke. But the feeling of happiness over having seen him comforted me through a very difficult day.

Was this just a specter conjured by my unconscious longings? Or do the dead talk to us in dreams and visions? I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, so your story really struck a chord with me. Thanks for posting.

[Woodpecker]

Yeah, thanks for the stories, all.

[chi]

Here's what's interesting. Dragonfly, you say that your mother called out loud for your father; I prayed really hard for a sign from Brie. Something tells me that if you want a sign, you need to do more than wish for it, you have to actively ask for it, and then it is important to be able to recognize the sign. Not everyone may have interpreted the rock correctly; what if my husband didn't mention his experience? I probably would have thought my rock was just a rock. Same with the toothpick and the dreams. It must be terribly difficult to communicate and it must take something from us to make that happen. I haven't asked again even though I REALLY would love to hear from her, but something stops me, as if I can only do that when it is vital that I do so, as if it may take a lot of energy on their part. Perhaps it is easier in dreams, although unfortunately, my only dreams of Brie right now are nightmares where I see her face and it is all full of blood...sorry for that, but it's true. I wish it wasn't.

[Proteus]

My wife's father died on 9/11--1996. (We'll call her Sophia and him Hiro.) Hiro had suffered from prostate cancer for several years and was at home in bed surrounded by his wife and all of his kids and grandkids when he died. Sophia still vividly remembers the way his breathing became more shallow and quicker until he heaved a final sigh and was gone.

Indeed, Hiro willed himself to hang on until the last of his sons (a Major in the USAF) could get home and sit with him before he drifted into his final sleep. Naturally, the survivors were in agony for a long time.

Sophia, who among her 6 sibs was probably the closest to him in the last years of his life, was depressed beyond comfort for over a year after his death, nearly dying herself when the furnace in her apartment building failed to exhaust its fumes properly and began pouring carbon monoxide into her room.

When she recovered from her near-suffocation, she had one of those vivid dreams you all are talking about. Hiro came to her and they had a long conversation. Sort of "how is it being dead? Not bad, and you?" casual conversations that can only happen in dreams. The upshot was that he told her that he was o.k. and that she needed to move on with her life. When she awoke, she had a hard time believing that she'd been dreaming. Over the past half-dozen years, she's had these vivid dreams from time to time and is convinced that her father checks in with the family from time to time. Each time, it takes her a few minutes to convince herself that he's actually dead--he seems so "present."

i never met Hiro in life, but i work the vegetable garden he had out back of my mother-in-law's place. He sweated over that soil for 40 years and every once in a while, i'll find myself aware that he's nearby. i talk to him a little; thank him for bringing Sophia and i together (something she believes he had in mind when he told her to stop grieving and start living--we met 2 months later); and joke with him that he ought to roll up his sleeves and start pulling weeds.

Chi, Dragonfly, Sidecross, thanks for sharing these stories.