I'm not sure if it is because I am a creative person or perhaps growing up religious opens my mind up to the possibilities, but I believe in the Afterlife.
I am a spiritual person. I always have been. I believe in spirits, Angels, lives before this one, and Karma. I have a fondness for the teachings of Wiccans, Jewish Kabbalah, and even a brief understanding of several other religions. I can't say that I fully grasp just one brand of teaching, but find value in most of them.
But the afterlife is a mystery that I still struggle with. It wasn't until my brother passed that I really spent a lot of time considering what happens after death and IF there is an afterlife.
When he died I struggled with the concept of simply saying goodbye to the person he was and letting him dissolve into memories. How is it that people can make such a strong bond in LIFE but once that heart stops beating, the connection is severed? No, that's just not enough.
I know there are times that a loved one is reaches out to comfort us in our time of change. I've seen the little signs that when I am lost, hurt, or sad, I am not going through this alone. Yet accepting these offerings as a positive moment and thanking both our loved ones and ourselves for being able to see and accept these signs for what they are, that's hard.
When Lance died I found pennies everywhere, a wandering feather, and songs on the radio that seemed out of place but very much typical of my relationship with my brother. The ache of his loss has seemed to settle down. Even though I wish very much to be able to sit down with him, face to face and talk more, hug him tight and thank him for the amazing things he has done in my life.
I have come to the understanding that our relationship has just changed. I don't have to feel the deep sense of loss that I did when I can enjoy expanding my views to the concept of change.
Today I sat out on the patio and closed my eyes and listened to the rush of the waves on the shore and the soothing sounds of the wind. I felt my body relax as the sun warmed over my body and I drifted in thoughts to the many things I have had to face lately. A soft pang of missing Lance passed over me but was quickly replaced by the memories of his laughter, his jokes that usually only he found as funny, and songs he used to like. Warm and comforted by good memories I sat out in the sun and enjoyed the idea that maybe the rejection of change is what was hurting me so much.
What happens if you can seek out to use your other senses to accomplish a connection between you and your loved ones who have gone through the change. Using your intuitions, couldn't you connect with that altered spirit is something that many for hundreds of years have tried to explain but few accept as truth?