After Death Communication, or ADC

In June of 2009 my elderly mother committed suicide. I never expected this event to take me on a wild paranormal, metaphysical journey. Similar things happened to me as a child when my grandparents' generation died off so it really shouldn't have shocked me, but it did!

Over time I began to feel that these experiences would be wasted if I never shared them with anyone else. So I decided to start a blog about my ongoing contact with my mother and the things she tells me about life "on the other side". These experiences were, and are, very healing for me. I hope that they will be encouraging, comforting, or at least intellectually stimulating for my readers.

This ability runs in my family. My mother had similar experiences. She was the one who helped me make sense of them - now she is the one causing them! Both of my grandmothers could do this, as well as my father, my brothers, and my sister.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Mom ADC's Begin to Settle Into A Pattern During Year Two


I read somewhere that the first year (approximately) after a person dies is spent getting accustomed to their new state of existence and learning to give up "habits" from Earth life, such as eating and sleeping. I had the most frequent and dramatic contact with my mother during this first year. After that, the contact slowed down but still occured regularly, about once every three or four months. However I was still very much aware of her presence, as her first job in the afterlife seemed to be watching out for my father (see Someone To Watch Over You).

By now Dad was living in an assisted living apartment near us. He gave up driving due to his decline in health and the fact that he was now living where he was not familiar with the roads. Once he moved into this environment with nurses to check on him 7 by 24, my mother's presence seemed to drift a little farther away, as if she knew he had enough care and no longer needed her to watch him like a hawk.

About a year after Dad moved into his new place, I had the following dream.

I was driving out to my parents’ house – it was dark outside (just dusk) but warm and nice. I pulled into my customary spot in front of my Dad’s garage and got out of the car. I wasn’t sure about being back at this place. Honestly I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to see my childhood home again, now that I knew it was gone. Seeing my dad's car parked there and all their stuff on the porch, I realized I was dreaming. So I decided to go in and explore.

When I got up on the porch I noticed that the front door was open. There was a light airy curtain in the screen door window that was blowing gently in the wind. I went into the house. My brother John and his wife Elivra were laying on the floor watching TV with the big pillows. Dad was in his recliner in front of his desk. Everything was just as it had been before my mother died. They all said hello and Dad tried to give me a check.

"Thanks for coming out," he said.

But I refused it. "Honestly Dad, it is OK. I don't need it, and I don't want you to run out of money." It was comforting to be back in the emotional space of knowing my parents would give me money if I ever needed it, but the part of my awareness that knew he was now living on a fixed income and might require expensive medical care nagged at the back of my mind. And I also know there is no way - at least that I know of - to take a check back to waking physical reality.

They were watching “The Waltons” on TV. The actors from the show were having a reunion and we talked about how much they've changed. I said there were two things different about the place with Mom gone – there were crumbs on the living room floor and the front door was open. They laughed.
Just then, Mom came downstairs in one of her ubiquitous house coats and went into the kitchen. She opened the cupboard door above the stove where the cookies were kept. Her favorite part of the day was coming home and putting on her nightgown and housecoat. In the evenings she would lay in bed and read, occasionally coming downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and maybe a snack of cookies or nuts.

I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline from realizing again that I was in a dream, and there she is! It's an ADC dream! Although I was enjoying the visit with the dream characters of my living relatives, I thought, I’m not missing out on this opportunity! I went into the kitchen and started talking to her. We went back upstairs to the bedroom and hung out talking on the bed like we always did. I know we talked about “The Waltons” but other than that it was just normal BS. One of the problems with deciding to remain in a lucid dream for a long time is you often cannot remember all of the details as vividly.

When I did wake up, I realized that the purpose and nature of the ADC's was changing. No longer was it about big worldview changing communications - it was becoming routine, with the purpose being no more than continuing the relationship. I'd adapted to the new order of things, with her being there while I was stil here.