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"The death of a loved one can thrust in front of us The Power of Flow, p. 41 |
 Three years ago my stepfather died. He was a very sweet man who loved my mom his whole life, never marrying her until he was over 70. She had been married to my father for many years and then divorced, moving us back to her hometown in Nova Scotia. They lived together for 20 years. He and I weren't really close, but I loved him for his gentle and kind ways and how he doted on my mom. When he passed away I had to go to the hospital that morning to pick up his personal belongings. It was still dark outside and on the drive along the shoreline I noticed a bright star very low on the horizon. It was so lovely. All that day I had the funeral to take care of etc and exhausted I drove back to my home. On the way I noticed what appeared to be the same star, again low on the horizon, twinkling so bright, and not another star in the sky. The next evening, I was called by my stepfather's family and they asked if I would write the eulogy. Not wanting to disappoint them, I agreed. For several hours I pondered about what I would write. I sat staring at my computer screen completely blank. He was such a simple man, nothing.....nothing.....And then I started typing, it just FLOWED out of me. I was thinking about that darn star, and for some reason I was comparing him to it. The morning and evening star, one complete day in his life. A gentle soul so often taken for granted and overlooked...All the while his beautiful simple light had been shining for all to see. They were the most beautiful words I had ever written. And looking back now I cannot take the credit, as I was only the typist not the author. When I read the eulogy at the funeral, there was silence... and then they.... clapped. Afterward the funeral director told me it nearly freaked him out. In all his years he had never seen that kind of response. I was embarrassed with all the people asking for a copy. A few days later I had to go to the cemetery to make sure the new plaque had arrived. My stepfather had ordered it and paid for it along with the plot in 1968. It was his choice out of all the designs available back then. I was stunned, to say the least, when I looked down at the beautiful bronze plaque. Beneath his name and date of birth was an etching of the evening sky with one bright star. It still gives me chills. It makes me believe in the possibility of destiny. D.T., Canada |
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My brother died unexpectedly at the age of 43. We were fanatic golfers. The last course we ever played was in Palm Springs, California. As was my custom, prior to our annual golf outing with our father, I wrote a letter with humorous anecdotes. In the last letter I made up a story in which we played with a famous person, Cheryl XXXX, on that course. It turns out that was our last round together, ever. One year later, quite by coincidence, I was invited to play in an event on the same course in Palm Springs. We were scheduled to play with a popular actor, but at the last minute he had to cancel. They filled the spot with Cheryl XXXX. Kevin B., U.S.
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The night before he died a little bird landed on my doorstep. It was ill, so we picked it up brought it inside and cared for it. In the middle of the night, it sang, and was dead in the morning. After my son’s death, I looked out the hospital window and there was a dead baby bird on the window sill. The hospital had a board with names on it of patients. I did not notice it all week because of obvious reasons. When I looked up after his death, it had my last name and under it my friend’s last name. This happened again after my mother’s death -- my last name and my friend’s right under it . . . she was never in hospital. We got to the cemetery and two little plots were there -- my last name on one and my friend’s last name on the other. . . . Co-incidence? Not that many times.... Zena, Australia
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One of my most vivid experiences of synchronicity occurred one night in January 1998. Only a month previously my son Michael - who was my only child - committed suicide, after suffering with severe depression for many years. As you can imagine I was totally grief stricken...... and most nights found it difficult to sleep. One of the ways that I would pass those dark night-time hours was by going to my computer and logging-on to grief support newsgroups or a trivia game channel that I found would distract me and relax me somewhat. On the particular night in question, I had gone to the fridge to get a drink of cold water (it is very hot here in West Australia at that time of the year), and I noticed that there was a bowl of fresh cherries on the shelf in the fridge. I poured myself a glass of water, put some cherries into a bowl and went into my office, and sat down to play the trivia game. The questions on the game are generated randomly and when I had logged in (and I was the only player in the game at that time), the first question that appeared was "Complete this sentence ....'Life is not a bowl of......"
R. B.
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My wife had started studying the history of the surrounding area where we lived. She had attained some books from the library which dealt extensively with same. In these "history" books it was noted that someone had brought a magnolia tree sapling up from Mexico around 150 years previous. Also noted was the fact that this tree was still alive and planted about 20 miles from our house. She got all excited and wanted to go see this tree. I didn't think much about a trip to see a tree as the area in which we lived was heavily forested. To see a tree all I had to do was look out any window of my house. Maybe 2-3 weeks later while working outside in my yard I was suddenly struck with the notion that I needed to see this tree. My wife and I loaded up in my truck and set out. We had almost arrived at our destination when I mentioned how pretty this area was and word-for-word I stated,"I wish we could meet someone who could tell us something about this area." We rounded a curve and there was the tree, almost in the road. My wife got excited and said, Stop the truck. We got out and were walking around, and we had been there about 2 minutes when a car approaching from the opposite direction stopped. The driver rolled down his window and said, "Can I tell you folks something about this area?" That got my attention. Turns out this guy was a high-ranking ex-military retired deputy base commander for a SAC (Strategic Air Command) base. His wife of many many years had just died two weeks previous. He had sort of taken it upon himself to look after this tree whenever possible. We talked about many things. One very obvious thing was how suicidal this guy was. He could not mention his wife without almost completely breaking down. My wife mentioned later on she had noticed the same thing. He wanted to know how we had heard about this tree. I told him about these history books. He said his wife had written articles for these same books. I told him I would look them up. We swapped phone numbers and went our separate ways. Later that night I looked in these history books for the first time. There were the stories this fellow's wife had written. Also there was a picture of him and his wife, very young. I called him on the phone. I said I had read his wife's stories, and did he know about the picture? No, he had not known of the picture. When I said I thought she had been very pretty, he went to pieces. Bawling, crying, he said, "I don't know what I 'm going to do without her -- I don't want to live without her. She took care of me all my life --what am I going to do now?" etc. etc. I let him rant and rave, then I started talking to him. I told him I didn't know what his beliefs were, but my beliefs allowed for the possibility that she was still helping him -- was still around looking after him. That calmed him down somewhat. We talked some more. I called him back several times more until I was pretty sure he was of a more stable mind. E.C., United States
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I met Shelly five weeks ago when we began a law unit together. Of the 140 or so students somehow we latched onto one another and quickly built a rapport. Yesterday something urged me to phone Shelly who explained that she was feeling a bit knocked about and that among other things having to find a new house was creating anxiety. I phoned my father, a real estate agent, and arranged to show Shelly a property which had only become available that day - in the hope it might make her feel she was moving in the right direction more than anything. I was surprised when Shelly
told me upon entering my car that she had had a difficult day at her brand
new job. There had been a death in custody relating to her work and it had
upset her. She relayed that it was further complicated by the fact (and
qualified by explaining this wasn't something she usually told people)
that her own brother had died in custody AND coincidentally exactly 5
years ago to the day. I commiserated and offered what always seem
inadequate condolences. I said "maybe it is his way of reaching you...."
etc etc N., Australia |
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My father passed away,
taken from us with bone cancer. He was so cute. At the near end, he had
gotten so thin, frail and almost translucent-looking that the workers in
the Hospice Center called him "Peeps" because he was as sweet and cute as
a fragile baby bird before its feathers grew in. Dad never complained.
When we would walk into his hospice room (our daily visit for months) and
say "Hi, Dad...how do you feel today?" He'd just give you as much of a
smile as he could and say " I suppose I'm doing alright--how about you?"
He passed on a Sunday afternoon. We had all been there with him and
decided to go home to get a fresh shower, something other than hospice
food to eat, and a change of scenery for a short while. As we were about ready to go back, I noticed that my wind-up pendulum clock in the living room had stopped and decided I would wind it up again when I got back home. Once back at hospice we were stopped at the nurses' desk and told that our father had passed away within the hour. He died at 12:20 p.m. -- the exact time my living room clock stopped ticking. There is no doubt in my mind that he stopped that clock. He never liked the ticking sound it made! Pat, United States |
| My father called me
and asked a strange
question: He asked not to be kept alive by machines if something happened
to him. I said " Yes, sure, ok." He was fit and tan and healthy, why would
he ask such a question? I got a call next day. He had a massive stroke,
and when I got there my sisters told me he was being kept alive only by
machines. He died two weeks later. I told them about the call. I had a
dream that we were dancing. My father was a good dancer, like many his
age. It was a fox-trot. An old song but I couldn't remember what it was. I
woke up and put on the coffee and turned on the radio. There was that
song! On the radio! I still couldn't remember what the title was. I called
the station. It was "Someone to Watch Over Me."
S.H.E., Massachusetts |
| My life as I have experienced thus far (being just 23) has
consisted of nothing other than aligned synchronicities....."coincidence"
as people would call it. How did I end up writing what I am at this
moment.....why did I even end up on this page? I've never been here
before...never looked for this page,....but ended up here because I
misspelled my destination....... My mother has always had this unusually strong connection with me...and is absolutely convinced I was her best friend or "soulmate" whom she was "connected" with since birth. His name is Ted McDonald.......and had grown up with mom throughout her life. He was the same age as she but the trippy thing I finally found out just five or six years ago was that he had died of cancer on the same day , same year that I was born. I was born at 1:32 p.m. and he had passed officially at 1:30 p.m. the same afternoon......Mom has always told me that if he were ever to come back he would want to be with her. Well, here I am......for now.....
D.M. |
| I had a sister pass away on 1/13/96. In the week or two
before her death she said, "Watch for signs." She died at home. Prior to
her death she asked her husband to remove the 4-foot Christmas wreath from
over the garage. He never did. She left us about 4:00 A.M. When he went
outside, he found the wreath in the middle of the driveway!
Coincidence?
M.F., Maine |
I read Dannion Brinkley's book "At Peace in the Light." When I finished I knew I had to get in touch with the Dannion. The things he talked about in the book were the exact focus of my life at that time. The information in the back of the book, about how to get in touch with the author, directed you to an address in Scottsdale, AZ, where the co-author lives, but I wanted to meet Dannion. The very next day I was in Seattle for a meeting of The International Association for Near Death Studies and overheard someone say that Dannion Brinkley would be at a local bookstore the following Tuesday. He was also giving a workshop the following Thursday. I went to both and have since met Dannion Brinkley several other times. Each time you have the feeling you're the only one in the room with him though there can be a line of hundreds of people right behind you. I find him and his work with Hospice very inspiring.
Norma Hissong, Olympic, WA.
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When he returned with the water, he also handed me something wrapped in a cloth napkin and said "This is for you." Feeling somewhat bewildered, I opened the cloth as he walked away and there was a huge bottle of lovely champagne. I was rather startled to say the least. I showed it to my daughter who had just returned from the restroom and she said "Do you know him?" I told her I didn't. The next time I saw the flight attendant I stopped him and said "That was very sweet of you but I don't understand." He just looked at me and said "Just enjoy it and please don't drink it alone. Drink it with someone you love." I was awestruck. How many times have you been on a plane in the coach section when a flight attendant gives you a bottle of champagne? I felt certain that it was a message from my Mom just letting me know that she loved me and was with me always. I took the bottle of champagne to the beach a few days later and toasted my Mom over the water. It felt like the perfect way to drink the champagne.
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