Once I feared death.

Although I’d always believed in heaven, death terrified me. Its finality. The way it wrenched our special ones away from us. Death seemed a punishment. And no one—not even the most righteous—escaped it.

I no longer dread the Reaper.

I know without a doubt, the afterlife exists and our passing from this realm is just another stage of our being. We don’t dissolve into the ether when our human shells fail.

The true essence of who I am—my personality, my soul—will continue on.

Death alters relationships, it doesn’t extinguish them.

Don’t get me wrong. The passing of special people remain sorrowful events as the physicality and the everyday give and take we enjoyed cease to exist.

Through my experiences and hearing anecdotes from others, I’m convinced our departed loved ones visit us to

  • cheer us on,
  • bestow their affection and
  • share pivotal moments in our lives.

Love remains eternal.

God is love. And as our divine parent, the Great I Am surely encourages us to share this greatest asset even after our passing. It would be unthinkably cruel to sever the love we’ve shared with others just because the body ceases to exist.

Last August, I experienced an exceedingly vivid dream.

I stand amid a crowd in the Goldfield Hotel lobby. Everyone attending is special to me; I know this even though all their faces are obscured. I jump up a few steps on the stairwell, raise my arms and proclaim, “Today, I’m proving to you the soul lives on.” On cue, a huddle of spirits hoists me onto their shoulders. To the crowd, it appears I’m levitating in a sitting position; they can’t see the entities carrying me. A deafening cheer erupts from the group. Everyone follows as I’m paraded along the first floor. The intensity of love is startling. I’m taken around a corner, when a family member walks up to me. He’s different from the others in that his face is clear and his voice unmistakable. He smiles and exclaims, “I finally understand what you’ve been saying. I now know the soul truly lives on.”

When I awoke, I continued to experience the dream’s intensity. I couldn’t shake the sensation that I was surrounded by those who cared about me. I held this remarkable feeling with me all morning.

Around noon, my phone rang. I learned the family member I’d dreamt about died suddenly of a heart attack the afternoon before. Hours later, as the memory of my night’s slumbers came back to me, it gave me some solace. My loved one who crossed over was well.

Acknowledge those who’ve crossed over.

When a departed dear one pops into your mind,

    • talk to them,
    • send your adoration and
    • allow yourself to believe they can visit you.

Embrace your relationships and realize that you’re never alone.

For more information on life after death, I recommend these websites:

Annette Childs, Ph.D.  

Association Trans Communication