I’m Still Here

Our Loved Ones like to place objects in our path that are significant both to them and us. Feathers, coins, rocks, keys, are some of the most common objects our Loved Ones leave for us. Coins in particular are very common signs. If you find a coin in your path, look at its year and see if that year is important between you and your Loved One. Numbers are also a way our loved ones reach out to us. They love to send us numbers that are relevant to them and/or us. It could be a birthday, an anniversary, the date of their passing, the time of their passing, or even repeating numbers such as 111, 222, 333, etc. These numbers may appear on clocks, billboards, or any other familiar place. They can also come from family, friends, or even strangers. When driving, pay attention to license plates in front of you, to billboards you pass by. Some of the best signs of numbers can come from bumper stickers sitting right in front of you. Please enjoy our latest story from a woman fortunate enough to receive both numbers and coins from her loved one. “I’m still here” I started seeing the number 11 everywhere for months. I didn’t know why. I was with my father-in-law when he died about 5 months later at 11:11. Since then we often find a dime and a penny in unexpected places. My husband also started finding them. In one incidence when I was in the hospital, he went to the restroom and there was a dime and penny. It’s happened dozens of...

A Visit with Mom

In November of 2013, Angie and her husband, Chuck, decided it was time to visit her cousin in El Paso, Texas. Fortunate to have seen much of the United States they had in fact, never been to that part of the country. It was a neat place infused with the very essence of the Mexican culture. It was also amazing to be so close to Juarez, Mexico a place having quite the reputation of not being the safest place to travel to. In her cousin’s part of town Juarez dominated the horizon. With intrigue and curiosity Angie wondered what life was really like just across the border. During their stay Chuck and Angie walked everywhere soaking in the ambiance of the town. El Paso provided a wonderful opportunity to enjoy the authentic taste and culture of neighboring Mexico. They also spent time wandering the beautiful campus at which her cousin was employed as a professor. She and her husband both worked at UTEP (University of Texas El Paso). Angie & Chuck were even able to attend a few college games while in town, one football and one basketball. One particular day the mystique of the unfamiliar drew them toward the border. The bridge was something they really wanted to see but had been warned NOT to cross over. So they headed off just for a look. Walking for blocks they realized it was much further than they had anticipated. They stopped and asked for directions at a gas station. While the attendant was attempting to help them a sweet Mexican woman with a beautiful accent also chimed in. Chuck...

Absolute Blessings

  We lost our son, Pete, 15 months ago at the age of 33. Since then we have received many wonderful signs. When I was sorting out some of his belongings I heard him call me as clear as anything! No one was in the house. The night after he died I was lying in bed and every time I opened my eyes, I could see his face. It was surrounded by white light. When I would close my eyes he was gone. This happened about 10 times. My husband felt Pete touch his hand really firmly one night while he was in bed one. One day we took a picture of Pete’s son, Lenny, climbing a tree overlooking where his dad’s ashes are buried. When we printed the photo an amazing orb was in the photo with our grandson. When we showed it to him he looked at it and said, “Daddy.” I said, “What do you mean, Lenny?” He said, “Daddy made that rainbow circle around me when he was watching me climb the tree.” Another time during a Holiday we visited Buckfast Abbey which is the home of a Community of Roman Catholic Benedictine monks in Devon, England. We had just lit a candle for Pete and I was in tears walking around the gardens and grounds looked after by the monks. I suddenly looked down and saw a perfect heart in the lichen in the path where I was walking so I took a picture. I am sure it was a sign for why did I look down exactly at that time. I did not...

Beauty of a Butterfly

Submitted by Susan Williamson May 2011 Susan had already gone through the pain of losing her father eight years earlier. Now, as if that wasn’t enough, she faced the devastating news that her mother, Gerry, had ovarian cancer. Her father had taught her through a series of after death communications that death was not the end, yet she was not prepared to let go of her only surviving parent. Growing up Susan and her father had shared a special bond, while her brother Scott seemed closer to their mother. She knew without a doubt that her father was proud of her and approved of how her life had turned out, but she wasn’t as sure that her mother shared that belief. Now was Susan’s opportunity to step up to the plate and show her mother that she was there for her. She loved her mother and wanted to do her best for her. Especially now when her mother needed her the most. Gerry moved in with Susan after she was diagnosed. The cancer had not been detected until it was already in stage 3. The doctors were unable to give her any kind of accurate estimate on the time she had left. Her own body and how it handled the chemo treatments would determine that. Not knowing, they felt it would be best if she came to live with Susan. Gerry was adamant about not wanting to die at a hospital so she made Susan promise not to take her, no matter what. Her mother fought valiantly against the cancer and for three more years they had an opportunity...

Dad’s Chair

My family recently had contact with my dad who passed back in June. He had a recliner in the living room and my sister Sammi came into the room to chat with my mom. She mentioned that she hadn’t sat in Dad’s chair since he passed and so she sat down and began chatting with my mom. She told mom to get her phone and take a picture of her sitting in Dad’s chair. Sammi then took a picture of mom. A few minutes later Sammi said, “I wonder if Dad’s in here with us.” They didn’t look right away and went about their day. A few days passed and Mom was going to delete the photos from her phone because they were too dark and you really couldn’t seem them that well. There was one she didn’t delete and as she looked at it closer, low and behold, there was Dad peeking his head around Sammi when she was sitting in his chair. There was nothing behind her in the photo except a wall. Dad’s face was pretty detailed in shape and you could even see his beard at the bottom. It was one of the most amazing detailed ghost-like photos I’ve ever seen. It was very awesome to be assured that he’s looking over us. Submitted by Rebecca Bock My Dad http://heblewherakiss.com/wp-content/uploads/bfi_thumb/Curt3-333zyebvknx8pd61nn17nu.jpeg My Dad http://heblewherakiss.com/wp-content/uploads/bfi_thumb/Curt4-333zyebvknx8pd61nn17nu.jpeg My Dad http://heblewherakiss.com/wp-content/uploads/bfi_thumb/Curt1-333zyegeeygfhewx1i7v9m.jpeg My Dad http://heblewherakiss.com/wp-content/uploads/bfi_thumb/Curt2-333zyegeeygfhewx1i7v9m.jpeg Previous Image Next...

Can Dreams Be Real?

Just a few weeks after my mom passed away from cancer in 1995 I was asleep in her bed, in her house. As I was sleeping she came to me in a very vivid dream. The phone rang and I picked up to say hello. She said her typical, “Hey Honey!” I knew she had just recently passed away and very emotionally I said, “Mom, where are you?” I wanted to know that she was okay. She very calmly and lovingly said to me, “Honey, I’m okay and you’re going to be just fine.” And then my alarm clock went off and I woke up. I so desperately wanted to go back to that dream and talk to Mom more, but of course, I couldn’t. I will say though, that to this day, that dream was as real and vivid as if it just happened yesterday. In fact, Bill Guggenheim who wrote Hello from Heaven with his former wife, Judy, told me recently over the phone that what I really had was a “sleep state visit.” He said the difference is that a dream is often chaotic and we’re jumping around all over the place and we often don’t remember it. Whereas a sleep state visit, we remember as vividly as if it just happened yesterday. And that is so true. Today, 16 years later, I remember my mom’s visit as clearly as if it happened yesterday. And that visit brought me so much peace and comfort. Although I missed my mother terribly, her visit came at just the right time and helped me immensely get through the shock...