As if that wasn’t enough, we were stunned at what happened next. In the early hours of the morning the hospital fire alarms started blaring out – this time for real. The nurse who’d been hovering close by rushed off to check but within five minutes she was back. I believe the fire brigade were normally called automatically in these cases – a dramatic backdrop to our grief – but nothing had been found to be wrong. The nurse muttered something about ‘burnt toast’ and that was that. We knew differently. Was it a coincidence? If you like! But to us it seemed to show that Brian was still lucid and his spirit still around as he slipped slowly from his body. Passing away to the sound of the fire alarms seemed like a final trumpet; something fitting and regal, or maybe just something very silly to make us laugh at a very sad time! On the last occasion he’d imagined the fire alarms, yet this time it had really happened. It was one of those weird coincidences that surround such events.
Six years earlier, when my own dad, Ron, passed away, we were bombarded with symbols of his presence from the other side. Smoke alarms went off, doorbells rang with no one there and Dad appeared in lucid dream-visitation experiences to all of his family. On the day of his passing, Mum walked into the house and the bedside alarm was ringing out – yet no one had set it (and there was no reason why it should be ringing at night). We all believed Dad was letting us know he was okay and, more importantly, that he was still around. There were so many experiences that they filled a whole book (Call Me When You Get to Heaven, which I co-wrote with my sister, Madeline Richardson).
Now it was Brian’s turn. This lovely man – my mum’s companion of the last two years – passed away later that day. His extended family all travelled to Mum’s apartment and we were sitting around chatting and drinking ‘a glass of something’ in his honour. Then it happened. ‘What’s that ringing? Is it your phone?’ someone asked. My husband John started walking round the apartment looking for the mystery sound. Moments later John walked back from the spare room with the bedside alarm clock in his hands. He’d tracked down the source of the mysterious ringing. Yes, you’ve got it: another alarm clock, several years after an alarm clock had rung on the day of Dad’s passing, and one that hadn’t been used for several weeks. Like Dad before him, Brian seemed to be signalling, in his humorous way, that he too was safe after passing on.
I like to think that they were both sat with us as we wished Brian ‘au revoir’ on this side of life, and that his spirit family were welcoming him home on the other side. Two men who had loved the same woman but had never met in life were now having a giggle on the other side … at our expense!
The soul ‘recovers’ on the heaven side of life. When loved ones appear in several dream-visits they look better and fitter each time they appear. Grey hair is often bright with colour, glasses and false teeth are no longer needed and wheelchairs and walking sticks are soon discarded. Other experiences over the years have shown me that, in time, the spirit appears not just fitter than when the person passed over; they appear whole. Those with missing limbs have them back again; people with thinning hair have a glowing crown-full. Children can also appear to ‘grow up’ if they choose; the average age of a ‘spirit’ person seems to be around thirty, when many on earth felt in their prime. They show themselves to us however they wish. If you’re lucky enough to ever have a visit, your loved one may appear in the jumper you bought them for Christmas or their best evening gown! The spirit dream-visit seems real, because it is.
At Brian’s funeral we met another relative. She told us that she’d had a strange dream too. Brian had appeared to her while she slept and said goodbye. She woke up to the sound of the house phone ringing. It was a call from a family member to say Brian had just died for real! Again, his visit was lucid. He’d actually come to say goodbye personally from the other side. Was this another strange coincidence? Of course, you start to see how these things stack-up, the evidence falling into place.
Why do the deceased visit some people and not others, you may ask. My late father explained this to me in a dream once; it depends on the person’s depth of sleep. The visits are more likely to happen during the usual dream-sleep part of the cycle, especially if you’ve already had enough sleep. My husband has never recalled a spirit visitation of this type, strangely, but my sisters and I have them all the time. If you want the deceased to visit you in dreams then the best thing to do is wait until you have a day off work, set your alarm clock in the morning and when you wake up ask them to call (just chat normally in your mind), then go back to sleep. Try this a few times – I bet you’ll be successful eventually. Of course, do write and let me know how you get on!
After the funeral a few days later still, I was sitting at my computer when I thought I heard Brian call out my name. It happened so quickly that I guessed I’d probably imagined it and didn’t really think any more about it. I didn’t mention it to anyone. That afternoon at Mum’s apartment, Brian’s daughter told us that she’d been in the kitchen earlier and she thought she’d heard her dad call her name. Mum, who was listening, said, ‘Oh, me too!’ Now seemed a good time to share the fact that I’d had a similar experience – he’d learned a new trick and had tried it out several times to see if it worked! So that was three of us (that we knew of), unaware of each other’s experiences, but all of us heard his voice call our name … from heaven, no less! Clever, isn’t it?
What I love about these experiences is that many people want to write them off as wishful thinking (as I’ve often done myself), but when you combine them all together you realise they mean something. I’ve spent many years now not just documenting my own family contact, but also sharing those of my readers. People all over the world are experiencing spontaneous afterlife contact and clever communication signs from heaven. Life continues after death and the ‘deceased’ can’t wait to tell us all about it!
Brian, like my dad Ron, loved his earthly family very much. They were both very loving men, with lots of friends. But like us all, they were both scared of dying. Brian visited my sister Debbie one day after he’d passed on. She was sitting at home when she heard his voice quite clearly in her mind. They’d connected telepathically between one realm and the next. He told her: ‘I don’t know what I was so worried about, it was easy!’ He was talking about his transition to heaven, and this is why I’ve devoted my career to sharing these amazing stories. Many people have been lucky enough to experience afterlife contact, but many more haven’t. Contact like this brings comfort and joy; my life mission is to tell you all about them. Here are a few more experiences for you.
Let’s start with Brenda’s. It seems a little like my own. ‘When my mother passed away,’ she explained, ‘all the family were with her in the hospital. As she slipped away I noticed a cloud shape start to form at the end of the bed. It floated up along the bed and as it reached where I was standing I noticed the cloud seemed to have a wing. Across the top was the brightest white light I have ever seen. It appeared to be sparkling, but even though it was so bright it didn’t hurt my eyes. I think about this often and I am comforted to know that an angel came to take her home.’ Over the years I’d hear a lot of similar stories, especially from nurses and care workers who spend a lot of time with the dying. They’d tell me how they watched the spirit of the deceased lift up, out of the physical body, or how sometimes the dying person would sit up in bed (when previously they had been too ill to move) and talk to long-dead relatives or angels who’d come to collect them and take them home. I find it so reassuring.
I was fascinated by Elaine’s letter and knew you would love to read it too. ‘Hi Jacky, I lost my mum twelve years ago after a short illness,’ she wrote. ‘She was just fifty-nine years old. During the week leading up to her funeral I kept her little suitcase and handbag at the foot of my bed. It had many of her personal things inside, including her wedding album, which contained precious photographs of family members who had also passed over. It was a prized item.
‘One night, I was in a deep sleep but woke suddenly to the noise of the wedding album being flicked through. It sounded like the rustling of the fine tissue paper that lined the album. Almost as quickly as I had awoken I fell back to sleep. Then, while I slept, my mum came to me in a dream-visit and I heard her speak. She said she was sorry she hadn’t “made it”, and she told me to make sure I looked after myself. It was a lovely