There Is No Death

Saturday Stories 

June 2, 2018

The man reached into the coffin as I stood beside him. He pried the rosary from the cold, stiff hands of the corpse. It was fascinating to watch.

We were at a funeral in Manila years ago. The deceased was the aunt of a friend. Somebody had asked the morticians to wrap the rosary on her hands.

The elders had protested. They said it was bad luck. It may sound superstitious, but I don't scoff at traditions because I know the power of belief.

But even the relatives were afraid. I wasn't, but I also wasn't related. I just stood beside the only man in that room who could have done it.

I think of that scene as symbolic of people's fear of death. It is human nature to fear the unknown, and death is the ultimate mystery. Everybody wants to go to heaven – but nobody wants to die.

My concept of death has evolved in my current lifetime. I have my own personal reasons why I've lost the fear of death long ago. If we can just be open to the idea than we more than our physical bodies, that would be a big shift in our consciousness.

I've read Talking To Heaven: A Medium's Message of Life After Death by the clairvoyant and spirit medium James Van Praagh twice since I found it (or it found me) two weeks ago. There are just some things you know to be true, and while the intellect may not be able to explain it, your soul knows.

James was still a young boy when he discovered that he can sense things that other people cannot. Even before he could understand these gifts, he told his teacher not to worry that her son had met an accident because he'll be alright. Moments later, the teacher has been summoned by the principal to inform her of the news – which happened at the precise moment James told her it did.

One of my favorite stories is with a man named Larry. As they talked, the spirit of his wife Kay kept validating her presence with things only they knew, like when they went up the Eiffel Tower. She said it was one of the happiest days of her life.

"It was one of the happiest days of my life too," said Larry, beginning to cry. "That was how we spent the first day of our honeymoon."

"Kay says the rest of your life was a honeymoon," said James. "She will always be with you."

Then he relayed another message: "She says that she wants you to go home and play her a love song on the piano."

"Boy, that's Kay, all right," smiled Larry. "She doesn't know when to stop."

And James told him: "She never will."

Photo courtesy of NewAgeWinkel.nl