We recently posted two stories from our friend Dale Dassel about his mother’s pending death, her death, and the synchronicities that followed. This is the second story that involves a ladybug as a spirit messenger.
+++
It’s been exactly one month since Mom passed, and things have finally settled down. But something really amazing happened last night around 12:30 a.m., as I was reading in bed. I began to grow drowsy, so I put the novel aside and lay calmly, gazing around my room for awhile just thinking about life but nothing in particular.
I was about to open the book to resume reading when I heard Mom’s voice clearly in my mind: I can hear you now. It seemed to come from immediately beside me, as if she were standing right by the bed. If my eyes had been closed, I would’ve sworn she just opened the door and walked into the room. The words were spoken with absolute calm; a matter-of-fact statement in her own voice, crystal clear. I looked in the direction of the voice in mild surprise, as it was completely out of the blue. I wasn’t even thinking about Mom, and she had never said that to me before, so I don’t have a mental sound byte of that sentence. She had spoken to me.
Being the emotional person that I am, I grew teary as I began talking to her, mentally at first, then speaking aloud. Over the next 20 minutes, I told her everything that had transpired since she departed. I told her how much we love and miss her, and reassured her that we were okay. The experience was very moving, and I am convinced that her presence was in the room, listening to me (I’m crying as I type this right now). When I was finished, I asked her to give Dad a sign or message that she was still with us. Then I went to sleep.
Today I related the incident to Dad and asked if he’d received a particular message or dream about Mom. He said he has dreams about her all the time, but nothing that stands out in his mind. He believes she is still with us, but said that some people are more receptive than others when it comes to this type of communication.
I personally have never seen a ghost / had spirit communication (with the exception of the dream message from Grandma after she died). But I firmly believe that Mom is honoring my request when I asked her to give me a sign from the other side (via the ladybug that came to me the week before she passed over). Last week, as I was getting into my car to go back to work after my lunch break, I was sitting in the driver seat with the door open, talking to Dad in the driveway, when a ladybug landed on the windshield between us. I immediately pointed it out and said that it’s Mom saying ‘hi’ to us. 🙂
These synchros are wonderfully reassuring, and they make it so much easier to handle this transition. I’m so glad that Mom is okay, and able to communicate with us from time to time.
A heartbreaking, yet also uplifting story. How can anyone doubt that we live on.
Dale, my heart truly aches for you. I feel your inexpressible sorrow in the depths of my own soul. This is not intended to be melodramatic. My Dad died of brain cancer when he was 42; I was not quite eighteen at the time. Even after all these years, there isn’t a single day that passes when I don’t think about him, and miss him. I often stop and gaze at his photograph on the wall in our hall, and I still talk to him. There is not a doubt in my mind that he is within my reach. Not physically, no. But he sees me and hears me and lets me know he is taking care of me, as he took care of me when he was here. Your Mother will do the same. She has left her ailing physical shell, but now she is free, and she will continue to love and nurture you from her Spiritual dimension, just as she loved and nurtured you when she was here. You’ll feel her presence in little ways, and in huge ways. Always remember how blessed you were, and are, to have had a Mom to whom her son was precious. May you find peace and comfort in the knowledge that she waits for you and that she will be there when YOU cross over! What a magnificent reunion that will be! YES!!
YES!
Believe me, I know how blessed we were to have her at the center of our world. I’ve always been grateful for that, and I am very much looking forward to our reunion someday. Mom always told us that we would have to take care of each-other after she’s gone, but it’s very comforting to know that she is watching over us now; our guardian angel on the other side. 🙂
yeah well, Nov.. all a done deal already.
Thank you, Connie, for that recovery room analogy. I’ve never heard of it until now, but I am heartened to know that Mom has indeed fully recovered. For Dad and I, it still seems surreal that she’s only been gone for just over a month. It feels like she’s on an extended vacation, and she’ll walk in the door any minute and ask what’s been happening in her absence. Sometimes I’ll be half asleep, drifting just above consciousness, then snap fully awake and realize with muddled dismay that Mom is really gone and I won’t ever see her again on this plane of existence. It’s just so impossible to believe. It’s also unfair that we’re still here while she isn’t. After she passed, I was really struck by the permanence of death. I also thought how cruel it is that we are such beautiful spirit beings trapped in these animated meat puppet bodies, for some inconcievable reason (to pass a test?). Part of me is glad to still be here in my body on the familiar physical plane, while another part of me wants to die so I can see Mom again. It’s really so unfair how short life is and how fragile we are. 🙁
Beautiful confirmation, Dale. I suspect her comment to you “I CAN HEAR YOU NOW” is an indication that she has finished the healing process in the ‘recovery room’ that my Invisible Helpers tell me most returning souls experience after suffering a lengthy illness prior to crossing over. They tell me that such extended physical agony exhausts the Spirit, and when it leaves its physical vehicle, it rests for a little while. Some souls, they say, remain in the recovery room for a very brief ‘time’; others remain there longer. Each Soul is different. They tell me it’s similar to a “recovery room” here, where the patient sleeps until it fully awakens and is ready to go forward . What an endearing way your beloved Mom is choosing to contact you! The sweet LadyBug. Memories to cherish, and the absolute awareness that she is nearby, within reach!