Synchronicity Followup to Dale’s Mom

On March 17, we posted an email from our friend, Dale Dassel, whose mother was dying of cancer and how synchronicity had helped him prepare for here death. As Dale was writing a followup to my email, explaining that his mother had just had last rites, his father came hurrying into his room to tell him she had just passed away. He sent this email two days later, and is already experiencing contact with her.

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Thank you so much for the kind wishes. Mom was indeed waiting for her last rites. She departed about 45 minutes after the priest left, and we’ve been seeing her name all weekend. On Saturday at noon, I drove to the grocery store to buy food, which we haven’t done in nearly a month. On the way, I was thinking of all the times I’d been grocery shopping with Mom, and that we would never have that experience again. I began crying, of course, then I saw her name on a street sign immediately on the right.

I pulled over, turned around, and drove back to photograph it with Mom’s cell phone, which I kept because I don’t have one. (Photo above) The weather was beautiful and sunny, with a brilliant blue sky above. That was my confirmation that Mom was fine on the other side, a reassurance that I did right in following the synchro signs in the week leading up to her passing.

Later, Dad and I visited the mausoleum to pick up a ceramic angel statuette from my grandmother’s grave because I wanted to have it at Mom’s viewing this week. I’d impulsively kept it after Grandma’s funeral in 1999, and it has been in our house ever since. But I turned the place upside down without success. We questioned Mom about it several times before she passed, and she gave us conflicting reports. “Where is Grandma’s angel statue?” She replied: “I’ll find it for you.” Then: “It’s in the bathroom.”

She used to have it sitting on the shelf by the sink, but it wasn’t there. I recalled that the statue had been moved several times over the years, in various rooms, but it was nowhere to be found, and we searched everywhere at least 3 times. At the cemetery, there was a small ceramic angel figurine hanging on a wire below the flower vase, but it wasn’t the right one. Dad’s phone buzzed and he walked down the hall to answer it while I tearfully spoke to Grandma, telling her that Mom was with her now and asking them to watch over us (I haven’t visited the mausoleum in years, so it was very emotional for me).

Then I took a few steps back and noticed Mom’s name on an adjacent crypt on the wall above Grandma’s grave. When Dad returned, I pointed it out as another sign from Mom, and I asked him to take a few pictures of it.

Afterward, we drove to the funeral home to finalize the details of Mom’s service. Since she is being cremated, we were shown a selection of urns on display in the gallery. We were drawn to a wooden box urn topped by a ceramic angel figurine. Another box type urn on a lower shelf was engraved synchronistically with Mom’s name: Linda (but with a different surname). We didn’t make a choice, but the synchro was another pleasant nudge from beyond. Mom is saying hi to us again! 🙂

We’ve spent the rest of the weekend sorting through the house, cleaning out in preparation to donate things to Mom’s church, which we will begin attending regularly, as we promised Mom before she departed. She was very pleased by that decision, and told us it’s a good thing. Saturday night we delved into the photo boxes, reminiscing about our life and all the good times we’ve had together. It was wonderfully theraputic & uplifting. I found a small book about ‘A Mother’s love’ which I had never seen before. I read it with increasing tearfulness at the very moving text within, and then I fell apart at the end, because the last page was signed by Mom to me, untold years ago (probably a few years after I was born).

For personal mementos, I decided to keep Mom’s glasses and her cancer hat, a beautiful blue & white tie dye cap which she wore to every chemo session. I walked into the room and saw the hat lying atop your book, where I’d placed it the night before. In the morning sunlight, I was awestruck to realize that the color design of Mom’s cap almost perfectly matched the soft pastels of the book jacket – an absolutely beautiful synchronicity that fills me with happiness. I know Mom is safe on the other side, where we will be reunited someday. Thank you so much for writing The Other Side. I am forever in your debt.