Heaven Exists & I HAVE PROOF THAT THERE IS LIFE AFTER DEATH. My mom met with God and Jesus before leaving with them; I can prove it! She brought predictions, which I share as well as the other miracles surrounding her death; some of that prophecy came to light after this nonfiction’s copyright date! Curious? Buy the book or eBook.
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An Excerpt or Two Follow:
Miracles occur, and I believe. I invite you to take the full journey to the afterlife and back through Mom's book!
This is the Introduction from ‘Mom’s on the Roof and I can’t Get Her Down’, which is available as a paperback and in most eBook formats.
This is the Introduction from ‘Mom’s on the Roof and I can’t Get Her Down’, which is available as a paperback and in most eBook formats.
Foreword- I Will Survive
When I tell people about my recent losses, they just reel back and ask me how I am surviving it. I simply look at them and say, “I don’t know.” While my parents may have left some pennies behind for the heirs to squabble and fuss over, my mother left me the story of her journey beyond this world’s process of dying. She asked me over and over again if I would be okay the day after she left. With all the strength of my soul, I affirmed her question by saying, “I think so.”
In the veil of darkness, at 2:24a.m., on Thursday, January 24, 1991, my mother’s body gave up its last round with breast cancer. In the gloom of night, at 9:15 p.m., on Tuesday, February 19, 1991, an emergency call came into my house from one of my father’s neighbors. My father had killed himself. After a routine mammogram on March 5, 1991, my doctor told me that I had an irregular mass and needed more tests. The tests revealed that it was not cancer, but I found myself thoroughly exhausted. How much can the human soul take?
One day, while at church, I heard a sermon about an African tribal leader who lost his very young son to death. The priest remarked, “At the funeral, this father seemed joyous, in spite of his loss.” Continuing, “When I asked him why he didn’t mourn the son’s death, this leader said that he could not question his God’s Will.”
Through primitive faith, the tribal leader taught the learned priest the meaning of the Sermon on the Mount, “Thy Will be done.”
The missionary priest said, “This leader of men took his orders from God. He didn’t live by, ‘My will be done.’ This man’s total acceptance of God’s Will gave him the inner peace to accept his child’s death.”
This missionary priest told the congregation he wished for faith that strong. As I wrote this book, I prayed for the same strength.
Sometimes events occur in life that do not make sense until we reflect back on them. Some of the things I will share with the reader are translations so that they will make better sense. Others are events exactly as they occurred. Many of God’s mysteries are beyond human words and concepts. Thus, I will interpret ideas into more fluid ones for the reader. Some of the translations were easy enough for me to handle alone. For other communications, I needed a parish priest to explain the symbolic idea to me. In God’s Will, my mother delivered every key for each door God would allow me to access. However, I had to find each door and open it.
The outcome of this story is not just death, but it is a story of peace. In your darkest hours, I hope this book can generate the strength you need to survive a loss. If you need to widen your faith in a loving, caring God, I pray these words can help you. Remembering I lived through it all, I hope to deliver courage as well as faith, hope, and love.
My favorite phrase is, “I am surviving!” And so will you.
This excerpt exposes some of the predictions mom brought back from God in Heaven.
Conversations about Death
My aunt and I talked one night about the signs of approaching death. I revealed to her that Mom had a telephone call from a nurse named Inez. It wasn’t a nurse at all. It was their deceased mother.
My aunt told me that my mother told their father, “Fred Astaire was just here for a visit.”
My parents were once good dancers. They won many contests in their youth. My mother used to say that one of her criteria for choosing a mate was that he knew how to dance. My father fit that bill. Now, close to forty years later and unable to walk for well over three months, a great dancer was visiting her bedside.
Did Inez call? Did Fred Astaire visit? These things were not as important as what they meant. What we decided was that my mother was closer to Heaven each day. She would soon be dancing with Fred Astaire. Dancing in the clouds with her mother, Inez.
I told my aunt about my recent dream. “It was so weird! Mom came to me through the passage to the kitchen. Meeting in the doorway, ‘I’ll go get Dad so he can see you walking again, ‘I offered. She motioned for me not to call out for him. She hugged me and left. She was wearing her red mumu.” By the end of my story, my aunt was unreachable. She was sobbing in dead silence.
“You know, I keep seeing a light over your mother’s bed in my dreams,” she said more composed. “Oh, dear God! The end is so close! I just hope it doesn’t last too long. She is suffering so much.”
My aunt and I were not the only ones having visions. A good friend from work had a strong desire to reveal a dream to me. One day, she sat down at my desk and began telling me her story.
“I don’t know how to say this to you without you figuring I am strange,” Ann spoke in measured speech. “I had a dream about your mother last night. Well, I didn’t actually see her but it is a message about her.” She stared at my face trying to determine if I’d guess she was full of wild imaginings.
“What was the dream about?”
“After waking up to take care of my son, you know that stage right before sleep really starts? I was just to that point, when I saw a door in front of me.” Very cautiously, Ann watched my every move wondering if I understood her intentions. Bravely, she continued. “The door began to open and this incredible light came from the door. It was so bright. The message is, ‘your mother is going straight to Heaven.’” She finished quickly then added, “Do you think I am nuts?”
“No!” Ann and I chatted about God and messages. She realized I was open to God’s plans and sure her message was genuine. “She wants to dance again. She will in Heaven.”
My aunt and I shared other telephone calls about the approaching death. Ann and I shared many conversations, too. As a consequence of my openness to other’s ideas, I began meeting many people who had lost relatives to cancer. Along with my relatives and Ann, all these new friends grieved with me before and after my mother’s death.
During this time, God sent many signs of His presence. Children are open to His messages. There are some side stories about three girls most affected by my mother’s cancer that I would like to share with you. The three children live in my home; they are some of her grandchildren.
One is Jenny, age five. During the last days I spent with my parents, she spent time with the angels in my house. She told me these angels were all over our house, and she wanted to know why they were telling her things. These angels told Jenny she had a future brother.
The second child having visions was Julie, age seven. “Grandma is coming back from Heaven for a visit during my birthday party!” She claimed. Julie had other experiences, which will be discussed later.
The third child has seen my mother dancing with my father in the kitchen of my house. Stacey is more reluctant to tell her stories about visions. She is ten. These stories show you what we do to God and His messages, as we grow older.
Bless the beasts and the children because they are more open to the reality of the two worlds, Heaven and Earth.
Many times before this stage in the dying process, Susan told m
e about the two worlds opening for a short time as the soul passes. She believed as a Hospice nurse that all things are possible. With all these visions before and after this inevitable death, I began wanting to see the ‘miracle of afterlife’. Instead of dreading the walk down the hall to her bedside, I began rushing to my mother so that I wouldn‘t miss seeing the soul pass as my mom left.
As with any terminal illness, anticipation caused many calls to come into my parent’s house. People were curious about her condition and wanted to say their goodbyes. I would tell them the latest news about Mom’s condition sharing my growing strength with them.
“It’s like having a baby. You can be sure you are in labor but still you cannot predict the minute the child will be born. So there you sit during someone’s labor awaiting the miracle of the birth. Dying is the same except that this time the labor is to leave this earth not to enter it. No one but God knows the hour,” I informed these callers while reconciling death in my own mind.
Often during our telephone calls, my aunt taught, “The angels are sent out to protect His people when the two worlds open to pass a soul.” She continued, “Watch for the signs and messages from God.”
My aunt told me that my mother told their father, “Fred Astaire was just here for a visit.”
My parents were once good dancers. They won many contests in their youth. My mother used to say that one of her criteria for choosing a mate was that he knew how to dance. My father fit that bill. Now, close to forty years later and unable to walk for well over three months, a great dancer was visiting her bedside.
Did Inez call? Did Fred Astaire visit? These things were not as important as what they meant. What we decided was that my mother was closer to Heaven each day. She would soon be dancing with Fred Astaire. Dancing in the clouds with her mother, Inez.
I told my aunt about my recent dream. “It was so weird! Mom came to me through the passage to the kitchen. Meeting in the doorway, ‘I’ll go get Dad so he can see you walking again, ‘I offered. She motioned for me not to call out for him. She hugged me and left. She was wearing her red mumu.” By the end of my story, my aunt was unreachable. She was sobbing in dead silence.
“You know, I keep seeing a light over your mother’s bed in my dreams,” she said more composed. “Oh, dear God! The end is so close! I just hope it doesn’t last too long. She is suffering so much.”
My aunt and I were not the only ones having visions. A good friend from work had a strong desire to reveal a dream to me. One day, she sat down at my desk and began telling me her story.
“I don’t know how to say this to you without you figuring I am strange,” Ann spoke in measured speech. “I had a dream about your mother last night. Well, I didn’t actually see her but it is a message about her.” She stared at my face trying to determine if I’d guess she was full of wild imaginings.
“What was the dream about?”
“After waking up to take care of my son, you know that stage right before sleep really starts? I was just to that point, when I saw a door in front of me.” Very cautiously, Ann watched my every move wondering if I understood her intentions. Bravely, she continued. “The door began to open and this incredible light came from the door. It was so bright. The message is, ‘your mother is going straight to Heaven.’” She finished quickly then added, “Do you think I am nuts?”
“No!” Ann and I chatted about God and messages. She realized I was open to God’s plans and sure her message was genuine. “She wants to dance again. She will in Heaven.”
My aunt and I shared other telephone calls about the approaching death. Ann and I shared many conversations, too. As a consequence of my openness to other’s ideas, I began meeting many people who had lost relatives to cancer. Along with my relatives and Ann, all these new friends grieved with me before and after my mother’s death.
During this time, God sent many signs of His presence. Children are open to His messages. There are some side stories about three girls most affected by my mother’s cancer that I would like to share with you. The three children live in my home; they are some of her grandchildren.
One is Jenny, age five. During the last days I spent with my parents, she spent time with the angels in my house. She told me these angels were all over our house, and she wanted to know why they were telling her things. These angels told Jenny she had a future brother.
The second child having visions was Julie, age seven. “Grandma is coming back from Heaven for a visit during my birthday party!” She claimed. Julie had other experiences, which will be discussed later.
The third child has seen my mother dancing with my father in the kitchen of my house. Stacey is more reluctant to tell her stories about visions. She is ten. These stories show you what we do to God and His messages, as we grow older.
Bless the beasts and the children because they are more open to the reality of the two worlds, Heaven and Earth.
Many times before this stage in the dying process, Susan told m
e about the two worlds opening for a short time as the soul passes. She believed as a Hospice nurse that all things are possible. With all these visions before and after this inevitable death, I began wanting to see the ‘miracle of afterlife’. Instead of dreading the walk down the hall to her bedside, I began rushing to my mother so that I wouldn‘t miss seeing the soul pass as my mom left.
As with any terminal illness, anticipation caused many calls to come into my parent’s house. People were curious about her condition and wanted to say their goodbyes. I would tell them the latest news about Mom’s condition sharing my growing strength with them.
“It’s like having a baby. You can be sure you are in labor but still you cannot predict the minute the child will be born. So there you sit during someone’s labor awaiting the miracle of the birth. Dying is the same except that this time the labor is to leave this earth not to enter it. No one but God knows the hour,” I informed these callers while reconciling death in my own mind.
Often during our telephone calls, my aunt taught, “The angels are sent out to protect His people when the two worlds open to pass a soul.” She continued, “Watch for the signs and messages from God.”
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