The First Butterfly

Late in August my sister, my son, and I took my dad on a tourist train excursion.  The Kiski Junction Railroad is located near where the Kiski and Allegheny Rivers merge and is only a short distance from where my parents formerly lived.  It was a gorgeous warm day.  We had been on this train trip several times when my son Henry was young - in fact we had one of his birthday parties on the train.  Dad had been through so much hell between the death, the funeral, and then moving into an independent living apartment.  We thought he could use an enjoyable day out.

The most interesting thing about this trip, at least for me, is the industrial ruins along the way.  The railroad itself is built on top of the filled in Pennsylvania Main Line Canal.  Timbers and rocks from the old canal are visible on some parts of the ride.  It also goes past at least two different abandoned mines.  One is the old Bagdad coal mine and the other was a tin mine, if memory servers.  In any case they are very creepy and interesting, and even more so for us since my dad's father (my grandfather) was a mine inspector (fire boss).

We choose the back porch of an antique caboose for our ride.  The train conductor was also sitting out there with us.  Twice during the trip a blue butterfly flew onto the train and hovered around us, sitting on the railing, the top of the door into the caboose, and once on Henry's head!  The second time it happened the conductor got a strange look on his face.  He told us, "In all the time I've been here, that has NEVER happened even once, let alone twice!"

I knew the butterflies were from my mother.  Years ago when these things happened to me I searched both the school and the local public library for information but came up with very little.  Just a few books with ghost stories and one book about scientists studying "ESP" with cards.  So I had to figure everything out on my own and never felt I understood it at all.  But this time - thank God for the internet!  There are many books published on the subject now and by this time I was buying them on amazon.com and devouring at least three per week.  I learned that ADC's (shorthand for After Death Communication) had been surveyed scientifically.  According to "Hello From Heaven" by Bill and Judy Guggenheim, ADC's are reported by millions of people all over the world.  And they fall into definite categories, one of which is odd visitations by animals.  Butterflies are common ADC symbols.  The fact that my mother spent years cultivating a butterfly garden and raising monarch butterfly caterpillars made it an even more obvious connection.

When I got home I told my husband about it and he casually dismissed it, but not long after he got a real shock!

Reconnecting - Sychronicity, Dreams, and Antique Pianos

Due to the rather intense grieving I experienced I did not have any contact with my mother for most of the summer.  From what I have read, strong emotions - negative ones in particular - block out this kind of contact.  Besides being miserable I was also a major bitch.  I exploded at the slightest frustration.  I doubted all the decisions I'd made about my life, debated putting all of my musical instruments for sale on Ebay, and almost had a nervous breakdown when I had to throw away my dilapidated old stuffed Snoopy dog that I found decaying in my parents' attic (more about him later).  One of my mother's roles in my life was to talk me through the various ups and downs of life.  When I got myself (figuratively) out on The Ledge she would talk me down.  Without her around to do that The Ledge had become more or less my permanent domicile.

I took at trip to North Carolina to visit Lisa - a childhood friend with whom I was reconnected at my mother's funeral.  Being a young widow (since remarried) she is kind of an expert on grief.  We sat up late many evenings talking about all kinds of things.  She reminded me of how I used to play piano when we were kids.  I was never really taught to do this.  The church had an old piano they needed to get rid of and I was kind of in the market for one at the time.  I really wanted a harp but my parents had no idea how to pull that off so they offered me this piano (don't feel bad for me - I now own seven harps) .  Three months later I was playing Beethoven piano sonatas.  I had an uncle who told my parents to send me to Julliard.  The politely told him to MYOB - music majors end up working in McDonald's.  Didn’t he know that?  They continued to insist upon this "fact" until I met my current husband who makes a very good living teaching music, thank you very much.

But I digress.  After I arrived home from South Carolina an opportunity to go to the National Flute Convention in New York suddenly appeared (a synchronicity) and as I was in the market for a new flute, I went.  I stayed with about five other ladies in an apartment a few miles away from the convention so I did a lot of walking.  While I was in New York, walking, and walking ... I started thinking, "gee, I wish I hadn't let Bill (my husband) talk me into getting rid of that old piano."  I had a beat up baby grand when we met, but when we got married and bought a new house, it didn't really fit anywhere and we decided to sell it.

I came home on the third day of the convention totally exhausted.  There was a concert that night but I told everyone I was too tired to go.  I went to bed on the sofa shortly after they all left for dinner out.  I should add that in the early ten weeks between my mother's death and August 19, 2009 I hadn't dreamed of her AT ALL.  Which is unusual in itself.  But in New York I dreamed of her every night.  On this particular night I had the my first contact dream.

I found myself in my parents' front yard, pacing back and forth and carrying on a telepathic conversation with my mother.

"You of all people should KNOW there isn't a problem with this situation," she scolded.  "You have got to quit mooning around like this!  You're driving everybody nuts!"

"Well, OK," I conceded.  "As long as I can keep talking to you like this, I think I can get used to it."

"OK, that's fine!  Just knock it off.  There is nothing wrong.  I am right here.  So for God's sake settle down!"

I talked to her for a while after that although I can't remember much more of the conversation.  Honestly it wasn't any different than what she would have said if she were alive!

I woke up from the encounter at about 8:00PM and immediately called my husband.  Before I had a chance to tell him about my encounter, he hit me with one of his own.

"You'll never guess what I just found!" he said.  "I went into Northway Mall to get a peice of equipment for my weight set, and there is an antique concert grand piano for sale in that little used piano store!  It's incredible!"

I told him about my experience (he was impressed).  When I got home we went to look at this piano and I was shocked because it looks almost exactly like the antique piano my grandparents had when my mother was growing up.  I saw it once - or what was left of it - sticking out from under a pile of junk in the attic when we were cleaning out that house.  When she saw the puddle of drool forming on the floor my mother reined me in.  During the depression they got tired of the piano taking up so much space so her father chopped it up and made it into a table.  Sorry - she said - we didn't know you would've wanted it.  This piano is an upgrade from the one my grandparents had.  It is an 1873 Decker Brothers concert grand in elaborately carved rosewood.  It is in completely original condition save about five strings that broke and had to be replaced when we had the sucker cranked up to A440.  We bought it with part of the insurance money so she paid for it too!  By sheer luck my Dad happened to be there to see it the day it was delivered - Mom's surprise gift from the other side.  As I played again after many years the lights in the room flickered mysteriously in agreement.

Not long after I was in our attic hunting for the old box of piano music I had from when I was a kid.  I found it.  While sorting through it I found something that wasn't there before: a handwritten manuscript with 116 of my grandfather's favorite tunes, written in the 1930's when he was teaching his son (my uncle) to play.  Then it began to dawn on me - where did this box of music come from?  I got the piano way back when and my mother produced this box of music from ... where?  Her parents' attic!  All this time I'd be bugging her about what he used to play, and she'd already given me a huge box of his music!

So that is when the idea hit me - I'll record a CD of my grandfather's music on period instruments!  We have lots of period instruments as one thing we do for a living is historical music performances in period costume.  This project is now underway.  Naturally there is a lot more of the CD story to come.  My grandfather was born in 1884.  During the Great Depression he got depressed and mostly gave up his music.  He died in 1969.  But his CD is coming out in 2011, which if nothing else proves that it is never too late!

The Gospel According To Mom

No changes have been made except to correct spelling and add paragraphs to make it easier to read.  The original is handwritten on both sides of 7 pages of notepaper.  I started a paragraph whenever it felt like a new thought or story began.

Felt presence in room and felt it wanted to help me.  Felt I was in a hopeless situation with no way out.  Gave up trying to find a way and asked God to help by showing me what I needed to do.  Was very depressed and felt helpless with no will of my own.  The “Presence” which I felt with me said by direct thought into my mind (no voice) that I was not strong enough or brave enough to do or to take all of the experiences I would have to go through to get well.  I said I would do or take anything to get well because I was in so much pain.  “He” said I would have to forgive my father for all the things he had done to our family [note: her father was very abusive].

This took me by complete surprise because I thought I was feeling so depressed because of the miscarriage of my baby and some other things (sins) of my own.  It also made me very angry because I hated my father and the very last thing in the world I would have ever thought to do was to forgive him.  Never, never.  And that is what I said – never I will die first.  And the “Presence” said “OK – I told you that you couldn’t do what you needed to do.  You’re not strong enough or brave enough.”

I thought about that for a while, maybe a week or so.  And I kept feeling worse – I was in a lot of pain that is hard to explain.  Finally I said “OK – I can’t do this myself but if you are God, you can give me whatever I need to be able to do it if this is what must be done.”  And the “Presence” said “Yes.”. 

 And the day came when I went down home and I was in the living room with just my father.  I said “I forgive you for all the evil things you have done to your children and to my mother.”  I said it right out with no explanation or discussion leading up to it.  My father became very angry and I though he was going to have a stroke.  He never said a word to me – just got up and went upstairs.  This was in the summer and for a long time when I went down home he would get up and leave.  He wouldn’t stay in the same room with me.

Then we got a new minister at our church.  I hadn’t been going for awhile because I felt so bad.  He came out to the house and asked me to come back to church.  No one in the family had noticed that anything was wrong with me but he saw it right away.  He told me very quietly that it would all turn out all right.  And I believed him.  I started back to church. 

On the 24^th of December I was in my room and suddenly a huge light came and just enveloped me and I seem to go up in the air and became part of it.  At first I couldn’t tell if it came down or I went up.  It was almost instantaneous but I merged with it and then time was not there anymore.  There was no time.  The light just seemed to spread out and encompass everything in the whole universe and I was a part of it.  It was everything – all living things and also everything else.  And the light was love.  It was warm and beautiful.  The most beautiful thing I have ever known.  The universe is a united whole – united by love.  That makes it work and binds it all together.  My mind seemed so much more clear about things afterwards – because I had felt very confused.

On Christmas morning there had been a very soft beautiful snow storm and the whole world was so beautiful it made me cry.  It seemed to be illustrating the song “Silent Night, Holy Night”.  Everything was so calm and peaceful and so clean and white and beautiful.  This was a miracle of some sort which I can never explain.  I had spent the night caught up in this light and a lot of what I felt there must have stayed with me when I returned – I was very much still in an ecstatic state for at least three days afterwards.  Some people that I met during this time had halos around their heads and their faces shown with some of this light.  No every one – just some here and there.  Some of the people I knew and some I didn’t - some were young and some were old.  And I felt filled to overflowing with love myself.  It was like being in the center of a Niagara Falls of love.

Then after a while I came down and I felt very bad because it was taken away from me.  I felt cold and almost dead like.  Then the hard part of it began.  The “Presence” was still with me but it had always had more of a teacher type of feel not this loving thing.  We could take to each other in thoughts.  And I remember saying or thinking “See – I did it, I forgave my father – is this a reward?”  And He said “You didn’t do anything – you just let me do it through you.”  And then I felt as if he left me and slammed the door.  I felt so bad.  To go from being so filled with love to not having any (or not much).

Then I had to go through a long period of being taught and shown what I had done wrong in my life and where I was very wrong in my thinking as well as in my actions.  This is very hard and humiliating.  Usually I would be shown why I had to experience these things as they happened.  I was told that He whom the Lord loves he chastises and that God purifies his children separating the good from the dross.  Like melting iron to take out the impurities.  It is very painful.  When I felt real bad I would sometimes feel a little bit of love in my soul.  And somehow I could “see” love in the light – in sunlight.  Again it is hard to explain but I guess for me both God and love will always be light, symbolized by sunlight.  That is somehow written on me and I can never forget it.  I am sure that is where we go when we die – into the light.  But I also know that God is in the dark – or what we think of as dark.  It is dark because we turn our backs to him instead of our eyes.  Also God is like a mirror.  When you see Him you see yourself – but you see yourself “darkly”.  And you see your flaws – both your sins of contentment and also the things you should have done and didin’t.

I began to hunt for books to explain to me what had happened and to try and see if it had ever happened to anyone else besides the people in the Bible.  Part of my “teaching” was to see these Bible characters as if there were as alive as I – they seemed to be right here with me.  I could almost see St. Paul when he was blinded and Stephen when he was stoned to death.  They were very real to me.  After I would ask questions in my mind and I would be told, sometimes, that the answer was too hard for me and not to worry about it. 

This Presence or Teacher could be very hard on me.  The minister of the church had done some things that were wrong and I begain to hear some gossip about him.  One night I was deep in thought about that and feeling very bad because he was not the perfect person I thought he was.  I kind of felt that he had betrayed me by not being good.  And into my mind came this thought: “How dare you expect someone else to live up to your ideals when you can’t live up to them yourself?”  That is a hard question but a very good one and a very true one.  I had no right to judge him (or anyone else ever). 

This whole process took over a year and I still learn some new hard lesson usually between Christmas and Easter.  In a way it has never stopped.  I have had the following items of a mystical experience with this: 1) Unity with God 2) Self-transcendence 3) Timelessness 4) Ecstasy 5) Conversion.  These five things are all present in all mystical experiences and also near death experiences.  I had learned a very real reverence for life and that the only thing that counts is what you do for others.  It does not need to be a big thing in the eyes of the world – just something that helps someone else to go along life’s way.  It has made me very grateful for my life – even though my life is so flawed.  There are so many things I would do differently if I could.  But each of us can only do what we were shown as children.  We can do different when our eyes are open and we awake and understand.   

God can forgive us for the things that were wrong but He can’t change them or completely wipe them away.  He can’t change the consequences of our prior choices.  If you skip school and miss the lessons then you will flunk the test.  Flunking the test is the effect of your choice to miss school.  But we can learn the lesson later – we each must start where ever we are.  We are the result of many people’s choices before we could choose for ourselves.  We are responsible for our own choices after we know this. 

Another thing I got from all of this was that the world looked so beautiful I could hardly stand to see it.  The flowering trees in the spring and the fall leaves were almost over powering for me for years.  This was very much in content like a near death experience except I was awake and except for Christmas Eve never felt out of my body.  It was very slow and took years.  What looks very much like a life review took at least a year itself. 

I have never felt unhappy or alone.  I don’t like to use my time in ritualized things – either religious or social.  They seem so shallow and a waste of time.  I see God in my garden and feel I am doing a service for Him in raising my butterflies.  They are also God you see and as such need a place to live.  When we destroy nature and the environment we are destroying God – I could cry when I see the rattlesnake round eyes and all that type of killing.  I am so glad we are working to save the environment.  This is no accident.  We will be very sorry if it goes.  I don’t know what lessons I have yet to learn but I know God really is love but he is also stern.

I think a church steeple is a symbol of the way the light came to me.  This experience comes to many people every generation and in all types of religions around the world.  There are examples of it written down and also in very old paintings.  It changes a bit for each type of civilization but it is still always the same.  Always the light, working up or being born again and that God is love.  It is almost as if we are being molded.  I don’t know if our souls are reborn again to learn the lessons we missed but I do know the lesson we must learn is to still our will so that His will can become one with ours.  That was Eve’s sin – no so much that she ate the apple, but that she did her own will instead of God’s will.  She was willful instead of being grateful for all of the other things that God had given her.  If we are ever perfected our will will be God’s will and we won’t know the difference.  We will do what we want and it will also be God’s will for us.  And that will be heaven.  I don’t think it will ever come for me – I am still too willful after all the time He has taken with me.  Even with all of this I still find myself doing the things I shouldn’t and not doing the things I should.  But so did St. Paul.  He was also a very willful person.

What Goes Up Must Come Down

Don’t get me wrong – I am not implying that ADC’s (After Death Communication, as they are known to people who research them) are a get-out-of-jail-free card from the universal experience of bereavement.  Far from it.  The constant sense of presence and energy did not last forever – it lasted for about two weeks.  But it did get me through series of experiences I never thought I would be able to face, the primary one being the funeral.

In light of the signs of continued presence we all felt the funeral seemed very unreal.  It didn’t help that she didn’t look anything like herself.  We didn’t tell the funeral director that she always wore her hair up and with it down she looked like a total stranger.  Even after he changed it, she still didn’t look like herself.  I managed to play harp at the funeral itself.  I never though I would have been able to pull this off!  I remember once, a year or so before any of this happened, my dad got sick and went into the hospital.  Mom was convinced he was going to die any day.  This was before we realized this was coming from an irrational fear inside of her and so we believed her.  She told me about this on my way to church one morning when I was scheduled to play at the 11:00AM service.  She got me so upset I couldn’t play one note.  Yet during a time when I should have been even MORE upset, I played the entire gig effortlessly.

The other unexpected thing was how the funeral put me back in touch with all of these people I hadn’t seen or spoken to in years, which set in motion several chains of events that answered nagging questions about the past, and rekindled some friendships that turned out to be very valuable later on.

I had a trip to Nova Scotia planned two weeks after my mother died – this was for a music workshop and I already had non-refundable tickets!  Seeing no good reason to cancel the trip I went anyway.  This turned out to be a good thing as I needed a break before having to deal with cleaning out my parents’ house.  It also brought me back to an idea I had years ago.  My mother’s father was an old time fiddler.  At one point during my 20’s, I was very interested in finding out about the music he played.  He and my mother had what I guess you could call a complicated relationship so she wasn’t very interested in talking about it at the time.  But Boxwood (the music festival) got me thinking about this again.

When I returned home and we began the agonizing process of breaking up our parents’ house we starting finding a lot of interesting things!  The first is a letter written by my mother sometime in the late 1990’s.  She put it inside a Memory Book I gave her for Christmas one year so that she could fill it out for my son Henry.  And fill it out she did!  She must have known that Memory Book would be one of the first things I would hunt.  Most of our paranormal conversations were rather one sided – me telling her about mine and her helping me figure out what they meant.  Sometimes she would share a few of her own experiences but not often.  Yet I always sensed there was more.  And there was – this document proves it.  Jokingly referred to as “The Gospel According to Mom” it is a high level overview of some incredible experiences.  The second post for today is “The Gospel According to Mom” in its entirety.

On The Third Day

That first day, my brother John arrived in PA in the evening with his wife and they stayed in my parents’ house (after ventilating it thoroughly, of course).  My brother Bob was on the next plane out from California and I can’t remember exactly when he arrived, but he was definitely there – also staying at my parents’ house – by the third day.

I’d been up at my parents’ house every day since it happened, as more and more out of town relatives arrived.  But the morning of the third day I remember most.  My dad, my sister, and my two brothers and I were sitting around in the living room, right after I got there.  I noticed we all had the same goofy looking inappropriate grins so I broached the subject.

“You know, I’ve been having the most intense experiences of Mom’s presence the last few days …”

I’d opened the floodgates.

“She’s in the house!” my father insisted.  “She was in bed with me last night!  I felt her get in bed, I felt her lying there, and I felt her get in and out of bed all night, just like she always did!  It was unbelievable!”

“And that’s not all,” added John.  “She can move things.  We lost Dad’s cane, OK?  It’s been pretty confusing over the last few days.  I wasn’t sure if we’d left it at the hospital or what.  In the meantime I gave him Mom’s cane to use.  Just before you got here Dad was walking down the hallway going one way, and I was walking down the hallway going the other way.  I looked at him and he definitely did not have either cane.  A few seconds after I passed him I felt this urge to turn around.  I did, and there was Dad, standing there with his cane in his hand!  I swear – we tore this house apart looking for that cane and it was nowhere to be found.  And Dad has no idea how it ended up in his hand.”

“Yes,” agreed Dad.  “I was just suddenly aware that I was holding it.”

“I can sense her and I can hear her walking around the house,” said my sister-in-law.  Everyone nodded excitedly.

“I had a lucid dream last night,” said Bob.  (A lucid dream is a dream where you are aware that you are dreaming – a conscious  dream).  “It was about her funeral!  Henry [my son] was supposed to play violin but we couldn’t find the violin, and you [pointing at me] were up front stalling for time while we were hunting for this violin.  Everything was going wrong – it was a disaster, but there was Mom in the background, laughing and laughing!  Rolling on the floor laughing!”

It was later that afternoon when my brother John actually SAW her.  He was at his in law’s house, lying on the sofa taking a brief nap.  With all the funeral preparations and things going on he was exhausted.  He woke up from the nap and saw her.  He said he didn’t really remember seeing anything besides her face.  She looked very happy, smiled at him, laughed, and disappeared.

“I know why she chose me to see her,” he said.  “It’s because we always used to sit there and argue about the existence of life after death.  She was laughing because she finally won that argument, hands down!”

Ground Zero - The Day That (Re) Started It All

June 11, 2009

My mother had her knee replaced due to rheumatoid arthritis the week before Christmas in 2008.  It was a difficult decision for her and being a retired nurse, she was well aware of the risks with this surgery, and also well aware that she would soon end up in a wheelchair without it.  She was also beginning to experience memory loss and other signs of approaching dementia.  Her mother had Alzheimer's and we believe that is part of the reason she decided to end her physical life at that time.  She was struggling with many paranoid fears, including being terrified of having to go through the experience of having my dad die.  Her passion in life was her garden, and due to the arthritis she could no longer work in her garden.  The straw that broke the camel's back was the bad reaction to the pain medication they gave her after the surgery.  She was very ill for 2 months afterwards and never really recovered.  They put her on an anti-depressant medication.  One of the risks during the first few weeks of use is increased risk of suicide.  We do not know for sure if this was a factor.  If she was taking it at all, it was in small enough quantities to not register on the toxicology reports.

She first mentioned suicide to my dad during the worst weeks of this post operative illness.  She wanted him to go with her.  He made it clear that he was not participating.  She did not bring it up again and appeared to be slowly recovering.  We thought she had moved beyond this idea.  But she hadn't - and it was obviously very well planned and carried out, and rather unbelievable when you consider she was in the beginning stages of dementia and could only get around using a walker!

I remember well the day before it happened.  She called me that afternoon - I was working on a batch of cotton bonnets for a local historical site (I make historical clothing).  We talked for a while - she sounded like her old self again.  It was a very happy, uplifting conversation.  The next door neighbor heard her sitting on the porch talking on the phone all afternoon.  She called practically everyone she knew.

That night, she got out of bed after my father was asleep.  She laid out all of their insurance and financial information neatly on the bed in the guest room and wrote suicide notes to every child and my father (including a note for my son).  She then proceeded to the garage where she sealed every last crack and crevice with duct tape and paper bags - she even duct taped the door back into the house shut from the inside.  She took an ambien (sleeping pill), started the car, and went to sleep in the front passenger seat.  She had a bottle of water and her cell phone with her. 

The next morning my dad woke up feeling that something was really weird - all the lights were off, including the ones in the bathroom they leave on all the time so that they don't fall if they get out of bed at night.  She wasn't in bed so he got up and started looking for her.

At this point I should insert that all week she had been calling my sister - who lives nearby - to make sure she was coming over on Thursday morning!  She planned to have my sister find her.  This is the only part of her plan that didn't work.

So my dad is wondering around the house.  He can't figure out where she is!  He goes outside and looks around the yard, then sits down on the porch swing and thinks.  The only place he hasn't looked is in the garage.

So he goes down and tries to open the door.  It's stuck!  He pulls harder, the door finally opens.  A huge, hot cloud of carbon monoxide nearly knocks him over.  He could see her in the car.  He went in and shut the car off, then took her pulse.  Realizing what just happened, he left quickly and called 911, then went outside to wait in the fresh air.

Zillions of paramedics and fire trucks descended on the place.  They called my sister and being close, she went to the house right away.  They also go ahold of my brother in DC and he left work and started driving back to Pittsburgh.  Nobody could get ahold of me because I was in the doctor's office getting an EKG.  I had just started a weight loss program.  This event gave me a big jump start - I eventually lost 50 pounds (and I am keeping it off).

They got ahold of me while I was driving home.  I didn't wreck!  But I did call the school - it was the second to last day - and picked up my 10 year old son Henry.  Since Linda (my sister) was already holding down the fort at the house, my brother John asked me to go to the hospital where they took Dad.  He had a mild case of carbon monoxide poisoning and they were admitting him to the hospital as a precaution - he was 87 years old and has a heart condition.

Henry and I got there while he was still in the ER and were relieved to find that our cousin Karen was already there with him.  Soon after they moved him to his room Linda arrived, the paramedics and police having finished up at the house.  We were all just sitting there talking when this overwhelming presence of my mother showed up.  I couldn't see her, I just felt her.  In a huge way!  I excused myself and went into the bathroom and did I what I thought you were supposed to do.  I told her I was very grateful for the experience but that I didn't want to hold her here or prevent her from moving on to whatever she was supposed to move on to.  She answered me - not in words but ideas - about how unbelievably happy she was to be rid of that diseased body!  And look - our relationship hasn't changed!  Appearing in my mind's eye at about 17 years of age, she could dance, she could run, she could sing!  She was full of wonder, ecstasy, and bliss.

So there I was in what I expected to be THE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE, on cloud nine due to her energy overload.  I felt like I was wired to an electric fence.  Energy coursed through my body.  I couldn't sleep - I could get into a semi-meditative state, but she was there.  Spoken and written words appeared in my mind in tandum, but they were garbled (I later learned that this is a side effect of learning to do this communication - it happens when you are near but not on the correct frequency).  I would wake up with this energy coursing through my arms.  I had to take a Tylenol PM to finally get some sleep!

The next day my body reacted like I expected - I couldn't eat or relax and I broke out in at least a dozen cold sores.  But emotionally I was all tied up in her ecstatic energy.  We are meeting with the minister and funeral people and all this is happening, and I am afraid to tell anyone but my husband!  I prayed a great deal giving thanks for this experience.  It was strange, it was difficult, but I was so relieved to KNOW BEYOND ANY DOUBT that my mother was OK.

Stay tuned for the next installment - we compare notes and discover we are all freaks!