I would like to share with you the chronicles that happened to me over the last couple of days – now that I have my emotions in check. If you are missing loved ones who have passed away, I hope this detailed accounting will boost your faith that your loved ones can get through to you from Heaven.

1.   Late this past Monday afternoon after putting in a 12 hour day, I was exhausted so I did what I have been doing since David passed, swiping reels while relaxing. It passes the time as the evenings are lonely without my husband. A singer on Britain’s Got Talent, Stacey Leadbeatter, hit me with a ton of bricks. I didn’t even know I was crying until the song was over. No other song, ever, has had that type of effect on me. I set her performance on ‘replay’ and watched it for over 2 ½ hours. Every single time I listened, I got chills – the good ones. My iPhone seemed to ramp up the performance – the volume was louder than usual, even though it was on max and it sounded like I was watching her live. A very emotional experience.

2.   I finally went to bed, but woke up at 2 AM. Just as I came to, I heard these lyrics from the song (Run, by Leona Lewis) in my mind – ‘Even if you cannot hear my voice, I’ll be right beside you dear, light up, light up, as if you have a choice’ Do you know what David always called me? “Dear”. Sure, he called me by name to get my attention, or when we were doing business with clients – but 99.99% of the time it was “Dear”. In the line ‘light up, light up as if you have a choice’ – David would say that to me, “as if you have a choice” when I wound up talking to a bunch of people rather than fading into the background – which is what I prefer – David would say, “I know, but you don’t have a choice, it’s instinct that makes people want to chat with you and you can’t change that.” Those lyrics resonate incredibly high with me. Yesterday, while working, I had it on replay again as I was cleaning up a few chores on my laptop. I am thrilled that she is releasing ‘Run’ on December 7^th.

3.   Mid-afternoon yesterday, I decided I needed a rest. I was thinking about what to have for supper and this popped into my head – go to Smitty’s and order breakfast for dinner. Huh? Aside from my daily Ensure, the only time I eat breakfast is when we are on vacation. I know I have NEVER ordered breakfast for dinner – but David did, all the time. Upon waking after a short nap, I ran with it and went to Smitty’s for breakfast. I sat leisurely eating my meal and scrolling. When I was finished eating, my lovely server told me that my bill had been taken care of – someone had paid for it. She didn’t know the person, but, said, “They just asked me to tell you to pay it forward.” They even left a tip! Well guess what! Paying for someone’s meal was always our thing. Our kids loved surveying the restaurant and picking out the table that we should pick up the bill for and would tell our server “Please tell them that we don’t know them and to simply pay it forward.” We picked up a tab in December of last year for a family of 4 at Swiss Chalet. We were sitting adjacent to a family and heard a young boy say, “This is so good. I wish we could eat this more.” I don’t remember the dad’s response but he made it clear, in a gentle way, that eating out was something they could only do once in a while. We had just gotten to the car when David told me he would just be a moment as he went back into Swiss Chalet. He returned a short time later and I asked him if he forgot his phone. He said, “No. I got the family three $50 gift cards so they can get out a little more often. It was such a sweet thing to do.

Here is the link to Stacey’s cover of ‘Run’ by Leona Lewis. You will NEVER forget her singing that song.

Well, there you have it and thanks for reading. After a visit from David’s spirit (the most mind blowing thing I have ever experienced) then the sign he sends for Hannah, Misty, Sharon and myself when we are together have made me 100% sure, absolutely positive, with no doubt that David can get to me from another dimension.

These occurrences have left me awestruck (cannot describe how I feel in words) and I know David is there – just beyond the veil nudging me forward – until we meet again…..

Postscript:

I did have a visit from David’s Spirit a couple of weeks after he crossed over. Just like Stephanie Leadbetter’s voice, I can’t find a word to describe that either, even with a prolific vocabulary. I have shared my encounter on a group site and found that many other spouses have had very similar experiences.

In my spare time - humph – not much of that – I need more of me to get the work done and I am fighting three antibiotic resistant bacteria – again. I am writing a paper detailing – the best way I can – my happenstances in order to show other spouses what to look for as signs their partner is trying to get through in nondescript ways. I will share it when I am finished. It will also demonstrate how my faith told me that David was in Heaven. But, after actually being enveloped in his spirit, it left not one smidgen of a doubt. Posting this when completed will, hopefully, give people the reassurance they need to be sure there is a Heaven and their loved ones are there.

Sooo, today I got a call from the funeral home saying my mother's remains are ready to be picked up. I went, picked up the little black box with her ashes, and came back home, made some coffee in her honor. I placed that box on the table and sobbed like a baby for several minutes. (I'm amazed I managed to hold back my tears until I got home)

I don't have enough money for an urn, and I certainly didn't want to keep her in the original box. Now I have my mother's old canister set from the 70s. There's a tall one she kept coffee in, so I decided to put her remains in the canister 😂 I cried and laughed at the same time, and I know she would have gotten a kick out of that, too!

She LOVED her coffee, AND that canister set! She's had it for as long as I can remember, and I'm in my 30s. I called my sister. At first she was like "Omg!!" But then we laughed and laughed.

It's only temporary until I can buy mom an urn. Anyway, just thought I'd share that. I'm wrecked emotionally and mentally, yet I'm happy she's with me at home. In her favourite canister. I love you, Mum... and I'll miss visiting with you, having coffee. 🕊❤️‍🩹

it’s been about 4 months now.

I woke up feeling sad today, it’s my mom’s three-month anniversary since she died. As I share with tears how I’m feeling , My spouse said I’m crazy to feel like this and that I think of her death in anniversaries, especially the first year. Am I being crazy, unreasonable here with my feelings??

Hi all, my dearest father was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer about 4 weeks ago (small cell lung, spread to his brain and spine) and given a very short prognosis. He’s made the decision to do VAD (voluntary assisted dying) program, so I will be losing him very soon. I 100% support his decision, as although he’s in a wheelchair and needs 24/7 care, cognitively he is still the same dad I remember and I feel strangely thankful I’m able to preserve him in this way. He wishes to go peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones and has accepted his illness (he is optimistic to a fault at times lol). I understand not everyone will understand or even support VAD, so if comments can be respect and kind please 🙏🏽

I love my dad so much, and the thought of losing him is destroying me. The best way I can explain is like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. As the days pass, I’m getting closer to the edge and I’m looking down knowing within less than 10 days, I’ll be free falling. I’ve never experienced grief before, so it feels like torture my first time it being a parent. I’m constantly anxious, shutting down, sometimes I get so mad, then so, so down. I have no friends, and my family are also going through it so support feels limited.

If anyone reading this has gone through a similar experience, firstly I am so sorry. I welcome any guidance or words ✨🤍

I thought it almost appropriate to be a Zombie Bride since my fiance died. Halloween has been a somber affair for me since 2012. He died a week before Halloween so every October tends to be a painful time of year for me. Friends convinced me to do a bar crawl so I went to Goodwill and bought a wedding gown for $30. The wedding dress my fiance helped me pick out is still safely packed away with his clothes. I would never defile it like I did this gown. My groom is dead, I feel dead - so this really isn't a costume so much as a portrayal of how I feel. Even 14 yrs later. A living dead girl.

My dad would have turned 80 today, and falling asleep knowing I can’t wish him a happy birthday is unbearable.

My old man passed away back in May this year from an incredibly aggressive cancer. So aggressive that it’s hard to believe that just last October, we were celebrating his 79th birthday at a Greek restaurant. He looked rather well, happy, alert, and full of joy and energy, despite already having gone through his first few rounds of chemo. You can literally see it in the photo, which was exactly a year ago…

And today, for the first time in my life, I’m going to sleep on this day of the year without having heard his voice.

When I was living abroad, he’d always stay awake because he knew I’d call to wish him a happy birthday. And what makes it even harder is that I’ve now moved back home to Germany. Had he still been here, I would have seen him tomorrow.

But I also know that, despite how much it hurts, I’m giving my dad exactly what he would have wanted today: I’m thinking of him.

He never expected or wanted presents or anything fancy for his birthday. All he ever really wanted was to know we were thinking of him and to spend some quality time together.

And how I wish I could have that time with him just once more. To be back at that Greek restaurant, or anywhere really, celebrating him for being the best dad I could have wished for. Celebrating him for simply being… there. Because coming to think of it, that’s what truly mattered.

Of course, he wasn’t perfect. But who really is? He was our dad, and he did everything he could to give us a brighter future. That’s what matters to me.

I’m fortunate to have my cats, my partner, my mum and my brothers. They’re truly my world. And my friends, although most of them are still abroad (I spent most of my adulthood in the UK before moving back to Germany), have also been an enormous source of support.

I know I’m not alone, and I know I have so much to be grateful for. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could hear his voice just one more time.

So I want to end this post by saying:

Happy 80th birthday, Dad.

This post is partly a way for me to vent, but more importantly, it’s a celebration of the person my dad was, the love he gave us, and the place he’ll always have in our lives.

I miss you, old man.

Last year my cat died due to cancer. She collapsed on the Kirche floor when I was not at home because of a job interview. Died while having a seizure.

A few weeks later I have watched my grandpa succumb to pancreas cancer. I have visited him nearly every day for the course of 6 months. SIX MONTHS was all it needed to turn a +100kg and nearly 6.5ft tall person into a living skeleton who cannot hold in its own pee and has to take FENTANYL to make the pain bearable. I watched his decline in real time, without being able to do SHIT about it.

And yesterday, my beloved Pet Dog died to aggressive cancer which has spread from some unidentified area to her left Kidney, her Liver, the spleen and the spine. Blood was splashing out her back and covered the floor. A few hours later we had to put her down to prevent her from
Suffering even worse.

SHE WAS ONLY 10 I could have had 5-6 years more with her but this fucking disease took her from us.

This is the third loved one in roughly 12 months.

I would love to grab the concept of cancer and everything that is cancer and torture it to death. I hate it here.

It’s been almost 5 years now since my grandma died. She wasn’t in the best health to begin with and it was monthly doctor check ups which I was helping her with. I was aware of her health situation and needed to be admitted but she refused month after month.

Before she agreed to be admitted to the hospital and ultimately that’s when she died, I said to her “the family is encouraging you to go because we want you around longer.” And not long after she died. I think there’s a little bit of guilt I have because of it. I know the outcome will be the same but it feels like I contributed to her death.

I wrote this poem for my friend who lost her wife unexpectedly. They shared such an incredible love for one another… truly a relationship that made you jealous when they walked into a room. My friend is incredible and recently grief has encompassed her. I can’t understand what she’s going through fully- I don’t want to pretend like I can. I just want her to know she’s amazing and people love her. Her birthday is tomorrow. Should I send this to her?

I lost my younger sister to suicide almost eight years ago. After she died, I went through a period where I barely ate for months. I was grieving, trying to survive, and honestly, eating was the last thing on my mind.

I've always been petite, and I actually like my body. But I think what people don't realize is that there's a history behind it that they know nothing about.
Recently, someone I've gotten close to has made comments about how skinny I am, calling me "skin and bones" and saying I have "boney hands." I know he probably thinks he's just teasing me, or it’s a way of flirting and being playful but it doesn't feel funny to me. Today he made another comment about my hands, and I jokingly told him I hated him. But a part of me was bothered.

I don't think people understand how grief can affect you physically, too. How you can go through something so devastating that even basic things like eating become difficult. And years later, people see your appearance without knowing what you went through.

I don't expect everyone to know my story, and I certainly don't want to explain my sister's death every time someone comments on my body. I just wish people understood that sometimes there's so much more behind someone's appearance than they realize.

Almost 8 years later, I'm still carrying the effects of losing her in ways I never expected.

It all happened too quickly. My parents and my youngest out of 3 sisters had plans to visit my 1st sister’s graduation at a place 6 hours away from our hometown. My 2nd sister and I stayed back because I had work and she had university classes to attend. I got the call at 5:30AM just as I was about to head to work. My mother told me that my youngest sister is in the emergency zone. She had a high fever, before suddenly having a seizure attack and passing out.

I met up with my 2nd sister and we head there together. We received a heartbreaking call saying that she was unconscious and transferred to ICU to be intubated. The infection was spreading too fast into her organs and they found out that it was Influenza A. From there it went downhill in the span of just two days. She was declared brain dead. Just like that. No last words exchanged between us. Just the last text she sent me saying that she feels sick because of the fever.

She was undiagnosed but I’m pretty sure she exhibited mild signs of autism since she views life in a very straightforward way. Because of that, people naturally gravitate towards her friendly nature and she never had ill intent towards other people. Just a cheerful girl who liked to see people smile. I would always buy gifts for her, and she was the most appreciative. She took celebrations so seriously and never fail to make anyone feel welcomed.

But now she’s gone? Just like that? I miss her dearly. My mother is having it the worst as my youngest never pursued academics and stayed with my late her whole life. I was the one always away for boarding school and now work. Every waking moment I am reminded that I no longer get to see her, or hear her voice and it just destroys me. I feel a lot of things. I wished I did more for her, she had a future ahead of her, a future filled with sunshine. The parcel she ordered arrived before she even got to open them, she bought a new luggage because she wanted to stay with me and now she couldn’t.

I’m clutching the power bank that she gave me for my birthday, my last birthday I got to celebrate with her and i just couldn’t accept it. I don’t know how to navigate this, my heart feels like it’s trapped in a constricting cage riddled with needles. It’s painful.

I lost my son to suicide a little over three years ago. It’s been the most heart-wrenching, painful experience of my life. I live with it every day. Reading and support groups have helped, and I’m healing, even if it’s slow.

I still cringe when I hear the phrase “committed suicide.” To me, it makes it sound like the person committed a crime. We don’t say someone “committed” cancer or any other illness. The word “committed,” when tied to an action, brings up things like fraud, murder, or other wrongdoing. That’s why the phrase feels so painful and just wrong to me.

For me, the phrase “committed suicide” adds to the stigma that already surrounds suicide. It feels harsh and judgmental. I much prefer “died by suicide” or “took their own life,” which feel more humane and kinder.

I’m curious how others feel about this. Have you noticed this too, or do you think the language matters?

So my mother passed away last year and today we were given her urn ([Other family member] had it for a while). With her urn here, I've just been thinking of all the stuff I've wanted to tell her about, and share with her--tiny things like shows I wished we could've watched together that aired after she passed, interests I've wanted to share with her, etc--and so I've just been casually talking to her urn today as though it's her. I mean, her ashes are inside, duh, but she's passed. I know she can't hear me.

But despite this I've just been going on small tangents like I used to when we'd just hang out "Oh, let's watch [Show], you'd really love it, I'll start it from the beginning", "Oh so earlier this year I got really into [Book], lemme tell you my favorite character", etc. I mean...is this normal? It feels...I don't wanna say silly, 'cause I'd talk to my mom like this when she was alive but I mean.

Does anyone else do this?

Did my father's death change my character and make me more mature? Yes. But what is the benefit of becoming more mature in this life? Am I not going to die anyway? What good does it do if I become the most mature person in the world, or even in the history of the world, with the most developed character? What is the point? I think the people who praise this are either people who have never experienced any real hardship in their lives or people who are fooling themselves.

They say pain makes you grow as a person. Honestly, even before experiencing this pain, I was already highly empathetic, understood people, and tried my best not to hurt anyone. Nothing about me has changed. In fact, I have even started to think that being this way might have done me more harm than good, since I no longer see any benefit in it.

I have started to think that the concepts of good and evil really don't matter. I guess we just live according to nature. Doing what is best for yourself is all that matters. This might sound like a silly example, but during the pandemic, when classes were online, everyone was cheating on an exam, but I didn't because I thought it was unfair. Because of that one course, my GPA wasn't high enough for the graduate program I wanted to get into. Most of the people who cheated didn't have that problem. Now, I look back and think, "What an idiot I was." "If you cheat, you're only fooling yourself." What a load of bullshit. Who cares? Just like the whole "pain makes you stronger" bullshit.

I will carry the indescribable pain of my father's absence for the rest of my life. And there is absolutely nothing positive that has come out of it.

My wedding is on Halloween. We were just over a year apart. He was my only sibling.

We slept in the same room together for our entire childhood. Sometimes in the same bed together if one of us was scared.

We were brothers. We fought. But there’s no one on this planet I loved more than him. I didn’t talk to him every day or anything. In fact I found his personality somewhat abrasive - and I’m antisocial as it is. If push came to shove however, he was always in my corner. No matter what. And I was in his.

But I loved him more than anyone on the planet. He was my built in best friend. I could have called him at 3 AM if I needed him and he would have driven 500 miles to help me, and the feeling was mutual.

I never had grand ideas of a wedding as a boy. It’s not really something little boys typically fantasize about, you know? But one thing I was always sure of was that he was my best man. Because he was. He was the most important man in my life. My brother. Through thick & thin. Through fists, through hugs, through shouts, through every “love you” at the end of a phone call - he was my brother.

And now he’s gone. A week before my wedding.

We are proceeding with the wedding as I know he’d be upset if I let something like his death derail my life. He’d want me to keep pushing. Be strong. Be his big brother. He pushed me and I pushed him. We made eachother better.

I’m giving my own best man speech in his honor. I don’t want the wedding to be a funeral. But that’s the only part of a wedding I ever wanted. I know he loved me, but I wanted him to give a sincere best man speech and really offer his love…and he would have. Those sincere moments don’t come often enough between men in life. We knew our places in each others lives. There was no need to be overly expressive…or at least, that’s what we thought.

I loved him. More than anyone. And it’s not even close. I’ll miss him for the rest of my life. When my parents die. When my child is born. Every one of his birthdays. Every holiday. I’ll think of his absence.

I’ll miss my built-in-best friend. And the reality of that hits only a week after his death whilst I’m celebrating the beginning of a new life with my soon-to-be wife.

It’s honestly comedic, in the sick Shakespearean tragedy way. My stubborn dickhead of a brother who was notoriously reliable when you needed him managed to lose his life just a week before I really needed him.

I don’t believe in anything religious, but he found god in the last few years. And I hope he was right about it. Because id love to see him again when it’s all said in done.

That’s it. Leaving the cemetery is a different kind of hurt. It’s like my heart is breaking over and over again, and I don’t know why. It just sucks. It sucks so bad. And what sucks even more is that I feel so bad everytime I leave the cemetery. I don’t mean to leave him alone, but I can’t stay forever. I just want him to know that I’m there with him, always and ever.

Everytime I leave, I remember everything. The day I found out. Feeling numb. Feeling sick to my stomach.

Even now, when out and about, I look for my friend, wondering where he is, only to remember he’s not here.

Sometimes I wonder if he gets cold at night in his grave, if he ever gets lonely.

I miss my friend. And this vent makes no sense. Grief makes no sense. One day I’m happy when remembering my friend, the next im in tears at his grave.

I still have photos of him, videos of him, of me and our friends together, and it’s almost like he’s looking at me from beyond the grave; which sounds weird, but everytime I look photos of him, I get an eerie feeling.

Days go by and I just sit there, and wait, for people to ask what he was like. His story deserves to be told.

But I understand why he did it. He was ridiculed. Picked down to nothing.

I'm in my early 20s and my grandpa died of cancer this past June of stage 4 esophageal cancer. For over 8 months I was by his side, taking him to appointments, grocery runs, handling doctors. All of it. I was working full time overnights and would do doctor appointments for 5-6 hours with no sleep. I handled almost everything even when it came down to the funeral. Yes I had help with a few family members but not to that extreme. I don't regret helping him I would do it again in a heartbeat. In his eyes I was his world and I was there with him all the way into hospice.

After his death I was having these dreams and nightmares (I'm a very vivid/lucid dreamer) either it be him just simply talking to me, or saying he wanted to make sure I was okay. Or just seeing him drive his truck and wave at me. Then I get the cancer and hospice dreams. I wake up crying a lot of the times or crying so hard in the dream itself. Feels like it's getting harder everyday instead of better.

Can anyone relate as a family caregiver or even with the dreams?

I lost my brother 3 months ago still fighting battle in my head about my mental health every day i wake up in different mode nothing feels same anymore trying to shift my mind to somewhere but not able to
Just sharing my pain here since got no one to talk

i just miss my dad so much. i wish he was here, i just want him to hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay. i wish i could cry into his arms, and i wish he could tell me what to do about the way i feel. sorry about the rant. i miss my dad so so so so so much.

...On a winding two lane road in the Appalachian mountains. No shoulder, sheer rock on one side and a dropoff down the mountain on the other. Two vehicle coming towards him, the first brakes to avoid something in the road, and the lifted truck tailgater swings out into the oncoming lane, either to go around or to avoid hitting the first car, and smashes head-on into my dad's much smaller Fiat.

And I'm just so angry. I want to find out who this person is. I want to know if they witnessed my dad die in front of their eyes and whether they'll THINK the next time they get into that dumb as fuck lifted clownmobile about whether their impatience is worth it. I want to know if they recognize someone died because of THEIR actions or if they just make excuses for themselves like the arrogant, entitled pricks they are.

....And I know that's not fair. Most of us have gotten impatient and swerved around someone or tailgated. But I just want someone to blame and some outlet for this hurt and there's just nothing I can do but scream into the Reddit void.

My dad’s brother had invited a friend to the wake. He didn’t know my dad. Last time he saw him was when they were in high school. They were now 52.

This was a very small and quiet wake. Less than 15 people. My mom, sister, and I were just traumatized, devastated, and exhausted. We weren’t really speaking to anyone. Just sitting there, processing.

When this man arrives, my dads brother and his wife are obviously talking to him. Very loudly. They’re not talking about my dad. They’re kinda just laughing it up. Maybe this is selfish of me, but it was just really daunting to hear them laughing and in a great mood when my fathers dead body was sitting right in front of me. If they were reminiscing over my dad it’d be one thing, but it had nothing to do with him.

My dad wasn’t too close with his family, they were estranged for years. They only started to re-connect the year prior throughout his cancer journey. So I understand that his brother and sister-in-law (along with nieces and nephews) were not devastated or very emotional.

But I thought it was really disrespectful that they stayed in the room and didn’t even have the decency to take this jolly conversation out in the hall.

My dad’s brother & family leave the wake a little early because their kids have to “study” for an exam (…there was no school the next day).

The next day we had his funeral. Again, it was a small funeral. We really don’t have any family we’re close with, but I knew I didn’t want to lose connection with my dads side of the family. So I asked my dad’s brother (and his family) if they wanted to go out to eat. They said they couldn’t because their (20-year-old) daughter had a telehealth appointment. I go on Facebook later that day and discover the daughter had a birthday party with friends.

I do feel like some extra context is needed: Exactly one month after my dads passing, it was his birthday. Two months later, it was thanksgiving. Three months later, Christmas.

I did not hear a word from them. They invited my aunt and her cousin to thanksgiving. But they did send us their annual family Christmas card. How so very kind.

The following year, they did not send the family Christmas card.

Honestly, I was hurt and wanted to block them, but what difference would it even make lol. They clearly have no want or desire.

I know they are not obligated to keep contact. I know they don’t really want a depressed, grieving family dampening their time. But it just hurts that they didn’t even pretend to care.

Anyway, that aside, am I being unreasonable over the wake and funeral incidents? I was telling someone about this and they didn’t really think it was worth putting attention to.