Is There Life After Death?

[Gene]

Originally Posted by Andrew Brunelle

I would always wonder why people would cry at others' funerals if they believed they were going to a better place.

When I cry at someones death it is for my own loss. The loss of grandparents and friends, etc. I can know they are "in a better place" as was my first grade friend who moved away with his mother to rejoin his father. He was better off and I was happy for him but he left and I missed him.

[Erin Pavlina]

Yes, you grieve for the loss of their presence in your own life.

I am always really affected at funerals. Sometimes I'm the only one crying. Even when I hardly knew the person. What I finally figured out was that I was picking up on all the emotions of people in the room, and sometimes that of the deceased person, and was overwhelmed at the intensity of it all.

When someone has been suffering in their physical form for a long time before they release their mortal coil, I always feel glad that they are no longer suffering. But I still miss them.

[escapee]

Right now I need to either see a photo, hear a voice or be with the person in-person. Email is definitely my weakest connection of the three but with a photo I can connect. In fact, in the photos I can sometimes sense the deceased relatives who are around them, so in those cases, a photo is superior to voice contact.

Erin, You really do have a hyper sensitive, powerful & huge antenna in your brain.

One of my sister's friends has the ability to sense and see those kind of stuffs but she never really wanted to explore and develop it further.

[Erin Pavlina]

Yes, it feels like an antenna! Good analogy.

I know a lot of people with similar gifts who are afraid to open themselves up to them. I was definitely afraid myself so I know how that feels. I finally got to a point where I had faith and trusted that my guides would steer me well and they have.

[MichaelRGaudet]

About 27 years ago, at age 19, I was admitted into the ER at Sunybrooke in Toronto with end-stage renal failure. On the way to the hospital on the TTC bus, my father sat beside me on the bench. I started to black out ( go into a coma) and then he smacked me across the face to wake me up. This happened a 2nd and 3rd time, with each slap getting a bit rougher. I could feel the heat of his slap on my face. He balled me out for being a lazy so and so. Riled me up and got the adrenylin flowing. The doctors there were stunned that I had walked in. I had lethal doses of toxins in my blood.

I left the bus without even thanking him. I was in a haze.

FYI, my dad died when I was 5 years old. Of kidney failure.

Who knows, maybe I was just delirius , but I do NOT think so.

So now I want to just say "Thank you, Dad!"