Dali – Ascent into the Sky
Synchronicities often occur during major transitions in our lives and one of those transitions is the ultimate journey we all take – death. You’ve heard the stories – clocks stop at the moment a loved one dies, a pet acts strangely in the days leading up to its owner’s death, appliances break down inexplicably, the seemingly random sighting of a crow or owl occurs shortly before a person passes on. Often, the synchronicities involved defy the odds.
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On September 23, 2005, Trish got a phone call from her sister, Mary, in Roswell, Georgia. Their father, who had spent the last two years in an assisted living facility where Mary was the wellness director, had had a stroke earlier that morning, hadn’t regained consciousness, and was not expected to live. How quickly could she get to Georgia?
At the time, Rob was visiting his mother in Minnesota, Megan was still in high school, so Trish couldn’t go anywhere until Rob returned. Frantic, she called her father’s room and – to her shock – he answered. She explained she would be in Georgia as soon as Rob returned from Minnesota. He assured her he was fine, she
shouldn’t worry, he would wait for her.After that call, he lapsed into a coma again.
Trish arrived in Roswell two days later. She and Mary spent the day in his room, sorting through his belongings, exchanging memories. Since hearing is the last sense to go, their dad’s favorite classical music played in the background. He was known then by Megan’s name for him – Buddy. Her grandmother, who had died five years earlier, was Nana. So for most of the day, it was Buddy this, Nana that. The aides who had taken care of Buddy for the last two years wandered in and out of the room all day to see how he was doing.
One of them drew Trish aside. “It’s amazing he has hung on this long. I think he was waiting for you to get here.” Those were his exact words the last time they had spoken.
He died peacefully at eleven that night.
“It is as if natural principles do not apply during the process of death,” writes Robert Hopcke, author of There Are No Accidents, “as if causality and matter are suspended.”




















