When a loved one dies, they usually visit us shortly after their death. Some call this a post-death communication; I call it a rock star moment. This is your personal Big Bang moment with your deceased loved one. But, don’t despair if you’ve never experienced a rock star sign. Some people never do, or some receive these signs years later. Personally, my biggest rock star moment was seeing my sister in my room shortly after her death. This launched our initial communication. Maybe something similar happened to you, but you weren’t sure if it was real. Perhaps you worry that you have ruined your big moment, that your communication window has closed. It is not the case. You can start at any time by simply saying to your loved one on the other side: I miss you. I’m thinking of you. Are you okay? I’m here. Send me a sign. Let them know that you feel excited, happy, tired, angry, depressed. Whatever particular mood you are in, share it. Ask (signs) and you will receive.
Invite your loved one into your world. They have entered another and may be waiting for an invitation to re-enter yours. Trust the process and your communication will soon flourish.
Let me share with you a rock star example for animal lovers (that’s you, right?): Joyce and her family were obsessed with their only animal: a beautiful and vibrant German Shepherd, Leo. At the age of eight he contracted kidney disease. It was a rapid and devastating decline that forced the family to leave. Joyce and her mother couldn’t get over it. Although they were a spiritual family and knew that it must have been “their time”, and even believed that they would see him again one day, their hearts and intellects were miles apart. Nothing seemed to ease his pain. Even a year later, Joyce’s mother cried every time she saw another large dog. They would not let him go and had lost much of the joy of their family life.
When he was alive, Leo weighed 85 pounds and had a habit of pushing his heavy frame against the sliding glass door of the dining room when he wanted to enter. It would stand on its hind legs and swing the glass from side to side with its front legs. It was a noisy bad habit, but they loved his energy and enthusiasm and thought this was fun, marveling at how the glass didn’t collapse.
Long after her death, Joyce was alone in the house, standing at the dining room table checking the mail, when suddenly the sliding glass door began to swing wildly from side to side. Living in the Bay Area, he assumed they were having an earthquake and ran off. But nothing else moved. Something whispered to him that it was Leo; I was trying to get her attention. He ran back inside and stared in amazement at the still-moving glass. He knew what Leo wanted. He wanted her and her mother to move on with their lives, to stop crying. When her mother got home, she told her what had happened and they did not cry again for another day. It worked. The crystal fell silent.
Letting go of a loved one is one of the biggest challenges we will face. We miss them, we want to freeze them in time and feel the comfort of their presence again. However, this can freeze both of you in place. Letting go leaves room for evolution, of yourself, of them and of what should be. You can still communicate constantly. After all, they are with you day and night. But the pain must give way to the celebration of who they were and still are. Letting go is not forgetting them, it is letting your spirit fly. In turn, they are free to love you, care for you, and guide you.
