Do you believe in God, and the magic of heaven? Do you believe that love never dies, that the human soul transcends human death? Do you believe that heaven can inspire or comfort us?
I do. I dreamed of my daughter's death two years before it happened. Two years later that nightmare became reality when my fifteen-year-old daughter died as a back seat passenger in a car accident on August 5, 2009.
I arrived at the crash scene to find my precious third-born strapped to a backboard and draped by a stark white sheet. I knelt down beside her, paused for a second, and then sought her hand under the sheet’s edge. I sat there, with her hand in mine, for what felt like ages. For a brief moment, I looked up into the dark field that stretched before us, and that is when I saw her: my beloved grandmother, who had passed thirteen years before, had an arm around Aly and was gently leading her away. Aly was looking over her right shoulder at me as she walked beside the great-grandmother she never knew. Walking away from me — forever.
In the years since the accident, we have experienced countless events involving Aly. One time, our oldest son climbed out of his truck for two minutes. When he got back in, he felt a lump under his floor mat — a lump that wasn’t there just minutes prior. Lifting up the mat, he discovered one of Aly’s blue rocks. Her favorite color, she often painted fist-size rocks blue and placed them outside for the fairies. And now one was suddenly sitting under the floor mat of our son’s truck. It lifted his heart.
One night I was playing on my iPad. I began a fresh word game and waited for my device to dispense the new tiles. There they were, three tiles in perfect order, spelling out her name: A-L-Y. I smiled. How could I not?
I’m close to my family, including all my nieces and nephews. It’s was no surprise when my oldest niece went into labor with her firstborn on Aly’s birthday. But the shock came when an unfamiliar doctor entered the room to deliver the baby. The name on her hospital badge? Aly. Yes, Dr. Aly delivered my sister’s first grandchild on Aly’s birthday. What are the odds?
Our family’s list of unexpected incidences involving Aly could go on and on. But my family isn’t unique; our experiences are shared by many. Grief Diaries: Hello From Heaven is filled with 20 similar accounts of after-death communication from loved ones who had passed away. I applaud the writers for sharing such remarkable stories; one has to be quite brave to share such things, as not everyone believes in after-death communication. Some might even believe it is evil. How can something that brings so much comfort be evil? Comfort only comes from God, not disguised as sheep in wolf’s clothing.
One thing is certain: my faith is strong and unshakable. I believe in God and Jesus with all my heart. I also believe in the magic of heaven and the afterlife. I believe that there is more to life than meets the eye. I believe my dream two years before the accident was a heads-up from God, a divine glimpse into a path I couldn’t yet fathom. I believe my grandmother collected Aly that night in the field so I would know Aly was led safely to heaven following her tragic death.
Do I think Aly’s rock under my son’s floor mat was a coincidence? No. Do I think that three tiles spelling Aly’s name in perfect order is coincidence? No, again. Can some of our experiences be chalked up to coincidence? Probably so, if one tries hard enough. But many of our experiences are so improbable that even coincidence appears to be a stretch.
For some, no amount of convincing will make a difference. For the rest of us, Grief Diaries: Hello From Heaven will tell the tales of many who believe that after-death communication is alive and well, and so are our loved ones.
Yes, I believe. I believe in God, the magic of heaven, and that love never dies. With all my heart.
