In my effort to give credence to our souls being eternal and, in many cases, able to respond to our calls, I will share with you all the details of my wife Shirley’s first real and dramatic contact with me.  She died on November 13, 2020. Seven months later, on June 24, 2021, she was able to visit me and clearly showed me who she was thanking for that special opportunity.

In my little residence, which is an addition to my daughter’s main home, I laid down late in the afternoon at 4pm, hoping to catch a short nap prior to supper.  It seems past a certain age that a nap is almost necessary. Well, I awoke suddenly at 5:30 pm, this no longer having been a short nap, and realized I had to get dressed to have supper with my daughter and her husband. 

As I began to throw my legs over the edge of the bed, I heard a loud BAM, followed by the tinkling of bells. So hard to describe. My bed is about 30 inches from a big green dresser 5 feet tall. It sounded as loud as a thunderclap, like when we think a passing storm is over and then suddenly a very loud thunderclap is heard, sounding like it is right above your home. Well, that is what I heard, and the only difference was that I heard and felt it like it was just inches from me, and I could almost point to the exact spot where the sound originated. It was unreal.

Immediately, I turned my head toward the other side of my bedroom, where Shirley’s dresser was on the opposite wall.  Right above it was a large beautifully framed mirror.  I thought right away when I heard the sound that the large mirror had come crashing down and that could be responsible for the noise.  No, it was still on the wall.  

Then I glanced toward our bathroom, thinking that maybe some parts of the ceiling had collapsed.  This is a 7-year-old home, so that would be highly unlikely, but nevertheless I checked. I might mention that I have always done all of the maintenance on our homes, within my abilities. That is why in a flash I was checking around the room and really wondering about that BAM. 

I started to turn my head back toward the sound that had frightened me. This is where my recounting these moments becomes extraordinary. As I turned back towards my green dresser, it was all lit up in a bright light. Just the dresser.  Standing in front of it, right next to my bedside, was a small female figure, with hands clasped together as if in prayer, and head bent down so I could not see her face.  There was no doubt this was a she. Almost from the moment I saw this figure and within 2 or 3 seconds, she started to turn around to go to her left. During those seconds, I saw that the figure had the same styled honey-blonde hairdo that a certain woman I had lived with for 61 years had always maintained. She wore a form-fitting pantsuit with a white belt. The pantsuit was emerald green with small white flower clusters scattered all over it. Again, these were the favorite flowers of this same woman I just mentioned. As if this was not enough, one other detail really caught my eye. 

This woman was standing with her left foot slightly forward and out to her left. 
Well, my wife had never had the full use of her left eye since birth. The pupil of the eye had remained frozen in place, not allowing it to expand or shrink according to the light in front of her.  To compensate for this vision problem, ever since the time of her being able to walk, she always kept her balance by moving her foot out to the left and forward some. That's the way the figure in front of me was standing. And even better yet, Shirley was 5'2" and as she was bending her head down into her hands, she stood just below the top of my dresser at 5ft.

She then turned to her left and took at the most three small steps to stand right next to the pink, low-set stuffed chair that had always accommodated her short height. I could never use it. The chair was about five feet from where she appeared, in the corner of the room. She then bowed down deeply, turned back toward me and took a couple of steps before vanishing. 

I might explain that during her life, Shirley, a lifelong Catholic, was a true believer in and greatly relied on the blessed Virgin Mary. As a strange lead up to this, a couple of months earlier I had printed out three 8x11 inch pictures of Mary. Two of these were elsewhere in my home and, having no more room for the third picture, I had propped it up on the pink chair seat in our bedroom so I could look at it.  It is still there today, untouched. 

I believe that Shirley was showing me that she was okay and is in loving hands. At least, that was my interpretation of this fabulous little woman’s efforts to show me that our souls live on forever. It is almost like one can read a partner’s mind after 60 plus years, and vice-versa.  That is one of my experiences with her that shook me to the core, forever. Shirley was a gentle woman, always with a smile to greet anyone, and ready to accept anyone in good faith. If you were acquainted with her, you too would immediately recognize her. 

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My friends, you can either believe my story or not. I can only share with you my special experience of a lifetime. It is your choice to believe me, but I think Shirley clearly showed me  that loving souls live forever.