I am a grieving mother. My son died. I know he is physically gone from this world.
Yet I assure you he is not gone.
Let me also say; he is not “looking down, watching over us.”
Don’t tell me he “will always be in our hearts.”
He is not in some faraway place waiting for us to be reunited.
He is right here in the same room where I stand.
When I say that, it is not in the sense of remembering him or keeping his memory alive.
Nor is it wishful thinking.
I promise you it is no grief hallucination.
My son is still very present in our lives.
I know because he actively sends signs.
Things some would write off as coincidence are pure synchronicity.
His train book blowing a whistle in the backseat, alone.
The lamp in his bedroom was going off and on — his shadow against the wall.
Then there was the time a medium told me about my trip to the airport when the air conditioning went out. I was alone in the car…
or so I thought.
There are so many more. We could spend the entire day talking about it. This isn’t a topic commonly discussed.
Quite honestly, we can sound a little crazy. Until you’ve experienced it, it’s hard to comprehend.
I understand how it sounds when I say I felt his hands on my shoulder, the way he always woke me up in the night.
You think I’m nuts when I tell you he communicates with me using the number 12.
I assure you it is all true.
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Grief like this changes you and shifts your perspective.
People wonder how I survive a loss like this.
I can’t give you that answer because I don’t know.
This has become my life and it’s so very different than it used to be.
However, I can certainly tell you I’m not doing it alone.
He is helping me on this journey.
While it may seem to the world like my son is gone, they are wrong.
He is still here.
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