“After-life” is not quite it. “Other life” is more apt. Right away, DH let us know he was still around, even if we couldn’t see him. We sort of expected him to. The night he left, one of our sons remarked “If dad doesn’t do some major “ghosting” shit, I’m going to be pissed.” You see, DH was a deep trance channel. Leaving his body was a relatively common occurrence for him.
After that initial sleepless night, he showed up in a dream. He was sitting where I’d found him. The only difference was that he was trying to open his eyes. Somehow, I “got” what he was trying to do. He was attempting to return to his body. He wanted me to know that he had tried. The dream was so vivid; I felt his experience of both shock and frustration when he couldn’t return.
Then he took off my socks while I slept. Twice. I found them at the foot of our bed on two consecutive mornings. The first time I was confused; I don’t take my socks off during the night. If I did, I wouldn’t have left them where I’d found them. The second morning I figured it was him, showing me that he was still around. That made me smile. It didn’t happen again.
Those first few weeks were filled with things that had no conventional explanation…
As we were getting ready to go to the funeral home to make the arrangements, one of my children said, “Thanks for finding the shirt we left here.” “What shirt?” I asked. “The blue one you left folded up on the table. We left it here last month.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know you left anything here.”
We looked at each other for a beat. “You aren’t messing with me, are you?” “No, I’d never do that.” We looked at each other for another beat. There was nothing else to say.
That same morning, as we were leaving the funeral home, another one of our children said “Mom, I left my backpack at the house. Let me know if you see it. I looked all over for it and couldn’t find it last night.” “Sure”, I answered.
When we got home, I sent him the photo you see here. It’s his backpack, which was sitting on a bench near the front door. He said, “Thanks! Where did you find it?” “Right on the bench”, I said. He replied, “We looked all over that room last night! It wasn’t there!” “Well,” I replied, “It’s there now!” “Weird” was his answer.
Several friends reported dreams and visions of him. In one, he was standing behind me and my children at the service. He had a big grin. In a few others, he was behind a wall or veil and couldn’t get through. In yet another, the blue shirt showed up.
It seemed like everyone was hearing from him but me. I felt abandoned and angry; I had no sense of him.
Until I felt him; he was everywhere and all the time. After those initial 3 months, there was an onslaught. Any random thought or memory or song and he’d come barreling into my consciousness, letting me know he was with me. It began to feel as if I had a constant and invisible companion.
This was good and then not; familiar and then devasting. It was confusing. It often brought on more grief. At times, I still expected him to walk through the front door. It was surreal. Tears continued.
About 4 months of that, and I started to feel that this “DH all the time” wasn’t a good thing, for either of us. Rather than helping, it was holding us both back. He must have new things to do, and other places to “be”. I know I did.
With that thought, things changed once again. If I thought of him, I could sense him, but now he was behind a wall or veil. The intensity was gone. I felt alone here. He was someplace else.
DH and I are “twin flames”. We were “told” this when he began to channel decades ago. We were both called the same name at the time. Then, after his death, I heard an astrologer mention that if your North Node is conjunct to someone’s South Node, you’ve known each other for thousands of years. So, I checked.
Sure enough, ours are within 3 degrees of each other.
This is a series about love and mysticism, family and karma, choice and destiny. It is a true story and is being told as I experienced it. Writing it down will keep it alive and, I hope, offer encouragement and insight into what is possible for all of us.
Perhaps you’ve heard about “trance channelers” and “twin flames”. They were both unknown to me until DH entered my life.
Our story did not begin gently. I was 8+ months pregnant with my first son. I was also married to someone else. This was a high-risk pregnancy, and I was out of the office and on bed rest when DH was hired. At 8+ months, the fetus is big enough to be safely birthed, so I returned to the software company I’d worked for.
In those days, options for “cute” maternity work clothes were nonexistent. I was huge and wearing what could only be called a blue tent. Underneath I was wearing a blouse with just one top button fastened. I was too wide to button the others and extremely self-conscious about the whole outfit. DH walked into the office, took one look at me, and said “Boy, are you pregnant!”. To which I said, “You must be DH”, when what I was thinking was, “And boy, are you an asshole!”. He continued walking.
Five and a half years later, we were married. That’s another story. He finally tells me that when he walked away that first morning, he had just one thought “I don’t want to hurt anybody, but God, I want her!”
So, I’ll close this by saying “Be careful what you wish for”. See you next week.
I believe in you. I believe in us. I believe in love.
*Dreamhopper aka DH — a soul who “hops dreams”.
