Signs and Talking To The Departed

My beautiful mum, who enfolded us all in love all her life, is still here – still spreading her golden love around us. Or so it feels. My sister Andrea and I have been experiencing a golden presence enveloping us. We can also hear her speak to us (offering advice and words of comfort). And I feel her kisses on my forehead. Andrea’s husband Ave says he can feel mum’s energy in their home. And even Andrea’s dog Rue seems to be channeling mum since she passed, three weeks ago.

Mum loved Rue. And Rue would jump into mum’s lap whenever they met. Rue is a field spaniel with the kind of thunderbolt energy that means she can go jogging with Ave in the morning and biking with Andrea in the afternoon and still have enough zest and mischief leftover for a spot of digging in the garden or eating some of the mail. Mum would cuddle her and talk to her as if she was talking to a little child and calm her immediately. We called mum the dog whisperer. And since mum has passed, Rue has become the good little dog mum encouraged her to be.

Oh and there have been so many signs since mum’s passing. It feels like she is reaching back to let us know that she is near. My sis and I went to Kettle’s Yard (a museum in Cambridge) to revisit one of the last places Andrea took mum before she passed. She pointed out the chair that mum sat on. I took some pix and that night, when I checked my iPhone photos, I was stunned to discover that after the chair images I have 18 photos I didn’t take of a golden aura-like light (see the images at the top and bottom of this post). ‘Wow. That’s amazing.’ Andrea said when I showed them to her. They look exactly how we experience mum’s spiritual presence – a sort of golden honeycomb of light.

And so many beautiful nature signs too. When I sat out in my parents pretty garden to write my tribute to mum for the funeral, a little black cat appeared on the fence beside me. It perched there, looking at me as I typed. The words tumbled out quickly. And after 15 minutes it was all written. I put in the last full stop and the cat who was still sitting there, turned and slinked away. I called to dad. ‘Have you ever seen a black cat here before?’ ‘No,’ he said. He came to look, and its cheeky little black face peaked out for a second from behind the shed and then it vanished.

The morning of mum’s funeral, her favorite peonies (a gift from my sister) all bloomed at once. Huge pink fluffy saucer shaped flowers waving at us, reminding us of her love of nature and color. And later the same day a black bird broke into song in the graveyard as mum’s coffin was lowered into the grave. It sang and trilled so beautifully. it was especially poignant knowing how much mum loved song birds, especially black birds and thrushes.

I’ve no doubt that birds and animals are soul messengers come to comfort and console us after a loss. Abraham Hicks says they can do this because they are pure vibrations.  Today, as I sit in Carl Schurz Park, near my home in New York, a large pigeon with a pretty black and white checkerboard coat is sitting on the fence beside me. He is all puffed up and looks as if he is half snoozing, but his orange eyes are focused on me. He has been here looking at me for over an hour. I’ve decided he looks like my deceased uncle Robert (my mother’s beloved youngest brother). I’ve never seen a bird that looked like a human before.

Two hours have passed and my pigeon friend is still at my side. Quietly abiding. Cheering me on.














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