Both of these experiences happened to our friend and fellow writer, Carol Gorman. We recently wrote about her husband, Ed, who is in hospice, and have been exchanging emails about Ed’s condition.
Hi, Trish.
Here are two experiences that changed my life. The first one happened on Christmas Day, 1984. I had recently been diagnosed with MS; I had all the symptoms: spasticity in my legs, blindness in my right eye, the strength in my left arm disappeared after getting into a hot bath, something I can’t spell called “lair-MEETS sign” that sent electrical impulses up my back when I tipped my chin down to my chest. I thought my active life was over, and I was terribly depressed.
Then Ed found a book written by a woman who had MS and had taken a year to travel the world and talk with doctors and scientists who were using diet to treat MS. I starting following the diet designed by a physician in Portland, OR who was getting a 97% success rate with people who started it immediately after diagnosis. So, I now had hope!
I had prayed for a “miracle that I could believe in.” And I was sure this was my miracle. I was driving alone down to Iowa City to spend Christmas with my family. So I said a prayer to God, saying, “Thank you for the MS, because it brought me closer to you.” All at once, the car was filled with overwhelming love. I actually felt as if spirit was hugging me! It was so similar to the descriptions of people who’ve had NDEs; I felt totally enveloped in love. It was amazing and wonderful, and I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. It only lasted 5-10 seconds, but as I said, it changed my life.
The second one was a little more concrete. I wrote this online; I thought it was one of your blogs, so you might have read it. It happened a few years earlier in my life, about 1981. My son Ben was six. I had recently been divorced from Ben’s dad. My ex’s father had died, and it was the night after his funeral. Anyway, he and I had never had any closure because my ex and I had split up, and I’d never seen him again.
I used to lie down on the bed with Ben when he went to bed. We’d lie in the dark and talk about his day. So that night, I said, “Let’s say a prayer, and I think Grandpa will hear us and know that we miss him.” So I said the prayer, and immediately after the prayer was over, I saw sparkles of what looked like static electricity in the air. I even heard the pops and crackles. It only last a few seconds and stopped. I wondered if I had imagined it, and I said, “Ben, did you see the lights in here just now?” He said, “What lights?” So I assumed I’d imagined it. I’d never heard of this before.
Fast forward maybe ten years. David Morrell had a book out called FIREFLIES about the death of his 16-year-old son. The night after the funeral, he went into his son’s room and sank down on the bed. And suddenly the room was filled with fireflies, and he heard his son say, “Don’t be sad, Dad. I’m well now, and I can play!” This was so similar to what I experienced–but I hadn’t heard a voice–so I tucked it away in my mind, thinking maybe the static electricity was like David Morrell’s fireflies.
Maybe 6-8 years later, I was writing novels for young readers and was invited to a book signing in a small-town library with none other than David Morrell. Nobody came (!), so I had the pleasure of sitting with David for a couple of hours. I told him I’d read his book FIREFLIES and described my experience with the lights in the room after the prayer.
He nodded and said, “That’s exactly what I saw.” And he told me that everywhere he went to lecture after the publication of his book, someone in the room would raise a hand and say that something similar had happened to him/her. He said that Father Andrew Greeley had written him after reading FIREFLIES and told him that about 85% of the grieving people he counsels report contact with the person who had died.
Together, these two experiences introduced me to a new (to me) kind of spirituality, different from the Presbyterian religion that I’d grown up with. It was dramatically personal and so very loving. I wish Ed could’ve had an experience like this to help him in his preparation for his transition. I’ve talked about these things to him a lot over the years, and he’s just now beginning to open up to them. He never had criticized my beliefs and always said kindly, “I hope you’re right, honey.”
I hope he has a beautiful transition with all that love that I felt in the car that Christmas morning! I wish everyone could have these experiences, so they know that life goes on, and that they don’t have to be afraid of death.
Love,
Carol
I have realized that the “tumor” I conquered is “guilt”. Both words resonate to 24. GUILT came to me spontaneously last nite. My Mom brought it to me. Not sure where the guilt had been buried, but I have no doubt it is now resolved. Thank you, Mama! And thank you, MacGregors2, for giving us all opportunities for such wonderful sharings with each other!
Thank you for sharing your story, Carol.
What wonderful experiences.
Aren’t they?!
Beautiful stories. Beautiful truths. Thank you for sharing! It seems that our loved ones in Spirit have so very many ways in which to make contact with us, and to comfort us with the awareness that not only is there no such thing as “death”, but that they are always within our reach. My Mom died in 1980 from lung cancer. This past week, I reached out to her for the first time in many years, and wept as I spoke with her. I smelled her perfume, Estee’, the only perfume she wore, (and I no longer have any physical sense of smell due to Parkinson’s). I can only detect psychic scents, and from the Estee’ I knew she was with me. That night, three nights ago, I had a dream that I’ve not had since I was in my late twenties. It was a recurring dream I had experienced often from the time I was a small child, and in the dream, I am a passenger in a car that is being driven into deep water that is covering the road. I am terrified in the dream, screaming at the (female) driver to please not drive into the water. Every time I had the dream through all those early years, I woke up the moment the wheels touched the water, shivering in fear. This week, when the wheels touched the water, I was suddenly not in the car anymore, and the woman driver told the person standing beside me, “Connie has just conquered an enormous tumor!” My dream symbols always translate to numbers. so when I woke up I immediately checked the number of ‘tumor’. It is 24. Then intuitively I checked the number of ‘phobia’, (I don’t know why I chose that word), and the number of phobia is also 24. I don’t yet know what the phobia fear) is that I conquered, or how I conquered it, because I’ve never known why I had the recurring dream unless it came from a past life experience. What I DO know is that during my conversation with Mom just prior to the dream, something must have been resolved, and I feel immense relief. From what….I do not know….but am grateful, and know Mom had something to do with it even after all these years!
Great post, thank you! So affirming a story, and comforting. After my own experiences, and visiting with mediums at Lilydale, and a few friends who are mediums, my sense that we are never alone has helped me in so many ways. And I remember that last year, shortly after my mother died, I found a large butterfly under my bed. I have no idea how it got there, but I like to think it was left for me by her.