The Spirit of Tom Cutbush

Janice and Tom Cutbush on their honeymoon

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I met Janice Cutbush and her husband, Tom, in the late 1970s, when I was dating a man from her hometown whom she’d grown up with. She and I hit it off immediately.  She and Tom and their two young kids at the time later visited me when I lived in Vero Beach and we saw each other periodically over the years.Then in 1996, at the age of 50, Tom died.

In our book Secrets of Spirit Communication, we included a story about spirit contact Janice had with Tom that involved a lonely loon at Fourth Lake in the Adirondacks.  We met her and her present husband, Steve, for dinner recently and I asked her if there had been any more contact from Tom. She sent me four experiences. Here’s the first one:

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My husband Tom died suddenly of a heart attack one sunny April day in 1996 when we were jogging together. He was 50 years old. I was 49. We were less than a half mile from our home. Married 28 years, we were high school sweethearts and so together for 3 years before we married at the young ages of 21 and 23.

He had been diagnosed with atrial fibrillation when he was 47 but was told he could live a normal life span. Not true for him because he had bad genetics. His dad had died suddenly of a heart attack when he was only 41. Tom was 14 when his dad died. This event haunted and scarred him. He had a premonition of his own early demise and was always saying things like, “When I die, you can remarry, but make sure he’s a good guy.” Or “You have to do everything now. Don’t put off anything you want to do.”

I never actually believed he would die young like his dad because he had a much healthier lifestyle than his father. He’d quit smoking at 30 and stopped drinking caffeine and alcohol when he was 45. And he’d always been an exerciser. But that Sunday morning his worst prediction came true. We were almost home from our run and I said, “I’m going to stop here.” He replied, “I’m going a little farther.” Those were his last words before he collapsed in the street.

The next hour became a blur-ambulance, EMTs, CPR and the ride to the hospital in the ambulance while praying the Hail Mary. When I was first allowed to see him, he had passed. I will never forget his face; he looked like he had just fought the battle of a lifetime and lost. His expression was one of pure exhaustion, not peace. I felt terrible. I never got to say goodbye to him or tell him how much I loved him and our life together despite its ups and downs. I was in shock and traumatized and would be for at least a year afterward.

My first communication with Tom came in the form of a dream visitation about 3 weeks after he’d passed. The dream was so vivid, I remember it even today 24 years later. I dreamed I was driving in the desert and I came upon a deep chasm. I didn’t know how I was going to cross it. Then 3 men appeared and told me not to worry because they would build me a bridge. And they did except the bridge was made of sand. I took a leap of faith and drove across the sand bridge in my dream. In typical dream-like fashion the bridge didn’t collapse.

I drove till I reached a small house with an open porch and a man with white hair and beard was sitting on it. He welcomed me and asked if I would like a glass of red wine. I said yes and he handed me a glass. Then he said, “There’s someone here to see you.” The door opened and there was Tom all dressed in a suit, looking handsome and smiling. I went to him and he enveloped me with a warm hug. Then I awakened, but the dream was so real that I could still feel his warmth when I woke.

This dream was so authentic, I felt as though I had made contact with Tom in the next world. His smile told me he was happy in the afterlife, and it comforted me greatly to know he was content.