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I’ve been hesitant to write this as I didn’t want to come across as looney or a fraud, but I had a dream once that told me to share what I have experienced (I’m not sure if that helps or hurts my case). Nevertheless, reading about other people’s signs and messages from their loved ones has helped and comforted me, so I hope to do the same for you here. I had never truly imagined Heaven and all its glory until my mom died. Now, it’s a place that I am excited to go to one day, and I hope other people can one day feel just as overjoyed to make it there one day. Since my mom died in August I have received some powerful signs and messages from her that leave me no doubt about where she is. These encounters with her have comforted me, relieved me of any guilt or regret, and brought me much peace. I hope they do for you as well. 
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PENNIES, RAINBOWS, AND BUTTERFLIES
I believe all three of these things are signs from my mom and Heaven.
Since my mom’s death, I have had yellow butterflies appear around me. I have seen rainbows when I wanted to know that she was near. And I have found pennies when I have been anxious or worried about something and need an answer to something. She knew pennies were a sign from God for me before she died.
One particular example is this: One of the things I miss most about my mom is her laughter over my dad’s, brother’s, and my sense of humor. We all found similar things funny. Some might say we have a twisted, dark sense of humor.
For Christmas, I designed and made a shirt for my brother that reads I Love My Dead Mom. I was 100% sure my dad and brother would find it funny and knew it would bring some levity and laughter to a terrible situation. I was right. I also knew my mom would find it funny. I could picture her laughing hysterically and missed that terribly. I prayed, “Mom, did you find that funny? Please send me a sign.” I asked for a penny.
Well….
Later that day, I walked into a room and there were literally hundreds and hundreds of pennies. I had my answer.
I know some people might be skeptical of signs. That’s okay. It’s hard to accept when it hasn’t happened to you. But I believe and I’m comforted by these signs. They are all I have left for communication with my mom.
Since my mom’s death, I have had yellow butterflies appear around me. I have seen rainbows when I wanted to know that she was near. And I have found pennies when I have been anxious or worried about something and need an answer to something. She knew pennies were a sign from God for me before she died.
One particular example is this: One of the things I miss most about my mom is her laughter over my dad’s, brother’s, and my sense of humor. We all found similar things funny. Some might say we have a twisted, dark sense of humor.
For Christmas, I designed and made a shirt for my brother that reads I Love My Dead Mom. I was 100% sure my dad and brother would find it funny and knew it would bring some levity and laughter to a terrible situation. I was right. I also knew my mom would find it funny. I could picture her laughing hysterically and missed that terribly. I prayed, “Mom, did you find that funny? Please send me a sign.” I asked for a penny.
Well….
Later that day, I walked into a room and there were literally hundreds and hundreds of pennies. I had my answer.
I know some people might be skeptical of signs. That’s okay. It’s hard to accept when it hasn’t happened to you. But I believe and I’m comforted by these signs. They are all I have left for communication with my mom.
DREAMS AND VISITATIONS
These messages are my favorite and the most powerful for me.
Since her death, I have dreamt about my mom a lot. I love these dreams. It feels like we are hanging out.
However, I have had from what I recall three visitation dreams. These are different than regular dreams. They start as a regular dream but then shift into something more real and vivid. After discussing this with a few people (including people of the Catholic faith), I have been affirmed that I am really interacting with my mom. There are several examples in the Bible of angels and people appearing in a dream. So, why wouldn’t God send our loved ones to us in dreams?
In my first visitation dream, my mom and I hugged. It was extremely vivid, and I still can picture it.
The second visitation dream was even more powerful. I was having a hard night. All I wanted to do was text or call my mom, so I did. I sent her a text just saying that I missed texting her and that I loved and missed her. I sighed and put the phone down, knowing that I would never get an answer from her again. I once again prayed and called out this time to the Holy Spirit. “Please bring me comfort.”
I went to bed. I started dreaming and then sometime in the middle of the night, my dream shifted. There was my mom right before me with a glow to her. She hugged me. Then, a very powerful wind-like sensation enveloped me and embraced me. I seemed to be carried through space in a very intense and peaceful way. The dream then continued on informing me to tell people what happened.
I woke up with two thoughts: 1.) That was the Holy Spirit and 2.) My mom answered my text.
The last visitation dream was somehow even more powerful. How my mom died has haunted us. It’s something that played over and over again in my head. One of the things I felt deep shame about was that I didn’t hold her hand or even look at her when she died. I just couldn’t accept what was happening. I had regretted this every day since her death.
The visitation dream happened in mid-December. I had been praying for forgiveness, mainly for me to forgive myself. The dream started with my mom and I shopping together. We went to the makeup store. I explained to the makeup artist how I had taken all of my mom’s makeup from her house because I couldn’t bear to throw it away.
This is where the dream shifted.
I remember looking at my mom’s face. She had a deep sadness for me and this broke her heart to see me in so much pain. I then looked deeply at her and asked if she would continue to visit me in my dreams throughout my whole life. She looked back at me with the same matched intensity and grabbed my hand and we just stayed like that for a bit hand in hand. I can still feel her hand on mine.
I was forgiven. I woke up with no more panic or regret or shame or guilt surrounding her death. That dream solidified the love that we had and will always have for each other.
Since her death, I have dreamt about my mom a lot. I love these dreams. It feels like we are hanging out.
However, I have had from what I recall three visitation dreams. These are different than regular dreams. They start as a regular dream but then shift into something more real and vivid. After discussing this with a few people (including people of the Catholic faith), I have been affirmed that I am really interacting with my mom. There are several examples in the Bible of angels and people appearing in a dream. So, why wouldn’t God send our loved ones to us in dreams?
In my first visitation dream, my mom and I hugged. It was extremely vivid, and I still can picture it.
The second visitation dream was even more powerful. I was having a hard night. All I wanted to do was text or call my mom, so I did. I sent her a text just saying that I missed texting her and that I loved and missed her. I sighed and put the phone down, knowing that I would never get an answer from her again. I once again prayed and called out this time to the Holy Spirit. “Please bring me comfort.”
I went to bed. I started dreaming and then sometime in the middle of the night, my dream shifted. There was my mom right before me with a glow to her. She hugged me. Then, a very powerful wind-like sensation enveloped me and embraced me. I seemed to be carried through space in a very intense and peaceful way. The dream then continued on informing me to tell people what happened.
I woke up with two thoughts: 1.) That was the Holy Spirit and 2.) My mom answered my text.
The last visitation dream was somehow even more powerful. How my mom died has haunted us. It’s something that played over and over again in my head. One of the things I felt deep shame about was that I didn’t hold her hand or even look at her when she died. I just couldn’t accept what was happening. I had regretted this every day since her death.
The visitation dream happened in mid-December. I had been praying for forgiveness, mainly for me to forgive myself. The dream started with my mom and I shopping together. We went to the makeup store. I explained to the makeup artist how I had taken all of my mom’s makeup from her house because I couldn’t bear to throw it away.
This is where the dream shifted.
I remember looking at my mom’s face. She had a deep sadness for me and this broke her heart to see me in so much pain. I then looked deeply at her and asked if she would continue to visit me in my dreams throughout my whole life. She looked back at me with the same matched intensity and grabbed my hand and we just stayed like that for a bit hand in hand. I can still feel her hand on mine.
I was forgiven. I woke up with no more panic or regret or shame or guilt surrounding her death. That dream solidified the love that we had and will always have for each other.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..............................................................................
I hope this account has brought you some peace and comfort of the afterlife. I hope death doesn’t seem so scary for you anymore knowing that one day we will be reunited with our loved ones. I hope you know that we can still communicate with our loved ones even in death.
And if nothing else, I now have a written record of the signs from my mom when I needed them the most. I pray she will always continue to show up in these ways.
Asking grieving people how their loved ones have shown up in their lives is a great way to keep the conversation about the deceased still alive.
“Have you had any signs lately from your loved one?”
“How has your loved one continued to show up?”
“What do you imagine (loved one’s name) would have done or said if they were here today?”
Thank you for taking the time to read this. It’s been a labor of love to write all of this down. I never want to forget the power of God in my time of need.
I hope this account has brought you some peace and comfort of the afterlife. I hope death doesn’t seem so scary for you anymore knowing that one day we will be reunited with our loved ones. I hope you know that we can still communicate with our loved ones even in death.
And if nothing else, I now have a written record of the signs from my mom when I needed them the most. I pray she will always continue to show up in these ways.
Asking grieving people how their loved ones have shown up in their lives is a great way to keep the conversation about the deceased still alive.
“Have you had any signs lately from your loved one?”
“How has your loved one continued to show up?”
“What do you imagine (loved one’s name) would have done or said if they were here today?”
Thank you for taking the time to read this. It’s been a labor of love to write all of this down. I never want to forget the power of God in my time of need.
 | Lauren Barrett is a multi-passionate mom working to help all people become their best selves and build positive relationships with the people around them. She has a degree in deaf education and a Master’s in Reading Education. She is a high school teacher of the Deaf and hard-of-hearing, a former cross country coach, a writer/author, and a full time mom to an amazing 4-year old. Lauren is a 3x author, including children’s book, Henry’s Hiccups, and parenting guide Now What? Mindful Checklists for Life’s Hard Parenting Moments. She is a blogger at Lauren Barrett Writes. Currently, she is grieving her loving mom’s unexpected death and devoting her time to helping people learn about grief, insomnia, and anxiety in honor of her mom. She loves her faith, running, visiting MLB stadiums with her husband, chocolate, scrapbooking, pretending she would actually do well on the Amazing Race, re-watching The Office, listening to Bobby Bones, and helping out all moms. She lives in North Carolina with her husband, James, and son, Henry. Follow her on her blog and get her free kind for sleep and anxiety, Stress Free Sleep. |
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Grief is.
Grief is holding onto one of her shirts because it has her lingering smell, and each day you bury your face into it praying that the smell hasn’t faded away yet.
Grief is going over to her house, entering her closet, and hugging her robe that she has hanging up. Pretending, wishing that it is really her in that robe.
Grief is wondering if you can still call it her house. When do I have to switch from “my parent’s house” to “my dad’s house”?
Grief is still having her contact with her personalized Bitmoji still pinned to my Favorites. Not knowing what is worse: Having to see her picture every day, taunting me with the fact that I can never call her again or permanently deleting her contact forever.
Grief is your dad unintentionally texting you a video from your mom’s phone and, for a few brief, glorious seconds, as you stare at the name on your phone, you think, “Is this it? Is this the moment that defies all logic? The moment the other side finally figures out how to text and call us from the other side?” Only then to come crashing back to reality and realize it isn’t her. You’re crushed.
Grief is spending the rest of the day crying because your dad tells you that he is going to disconnect her number soon. The number you absentmindedly would call for years whenever you wanted to talk, needed advice or wanted to share something funny. One of the two numbers you have memorized. How can this number just be erased? How can anyone else have this number?
Grief is reading her old Facebook posts for hours.
Grief is driving to the Verizon store and then to the Apple store begging them to make sure the texts between the two of you will be saved forever and won’t be accidentally deleted.
Grief is torturing yourself by watching old videos of her, so you don’t forget the sound of her voice. You don’t know if you are doing this out of guilt, sadness, nostalgia, or love. You think it might be all of them.
Grief is holding onto random notes she scribbled just so you can see her handwriting.
Grief is writing to her in a journal every day about what’s happening in our lives and the news, so you feel like she isn’t missing out.
Grief is having an overabundance of love to give.
Grief is perking up when you also meet someone your age who has lost a parent because you know that person will get it.
Grief is many days wanting to stay in bed but then hearing her voice in your head telling me that I will feel a whole lot better if I get up, exercise, and spread joy to other people.
Grief is hating that she is right even in death, of course.
Grief is wanting to live your life to honor her and make it special for your son and family just like she did for you all.
Grief is going on a drive and listening to all the songs that remind you of her and sobbing while you play them.
Grief is wanting to get a shower just so you can have a good place to cry alone.
Grief is being excited to go to sleep because maybe you’ll see her in your dreams tonight.
Grief is waking up to the crushing reality that she is still dead. Every. single. day.
Grief is having nothing but so much love for her.
And most of all, grief just is.
Grief is holding onto one of her shirts because it has her lingering smell, and each day you bury your face into it praying that the smell hasn’t faded away yet.
Grief is going over to her house, entering her closet, and hugging her robe that she has hanging up. Pretending, wishing that it is really her in that robe.
Grief is wondering if you can still call it her house. When do I have to switch from “my parent’s house” to “my dad’s house”?
Grief is still having her contact with her personalized Bitmoji still pinned to my Favorites. Not knowing what is worse: Having to see her picture every day, taunting me with the fact that I can never call her again or permanently deleting her contact forever.
Grief is your dad unintentionally texting you a video from your mom’s phone and, for a few brief, glorious seconds, as you stare at the name on your phone, you think, “Is this it? Is this the moment that defies all logic? The moment the other side finally figures out how to text and call us from the other side?” Only then to come crashing back to reality and realize it isn’t her. You’re crushed.
Grief is spending the rest of the day crying because your dad tells you that he is going to disconnect her number soon. The number you absentmindedly would call for years whenever you wanted to talk, needed advice or wanted to share something funny. One of the two numbers you have memorized. How can this number just be erased? How can anyone else have this number?
Grief is reading her old Facebook posts for hours.
Grief is driving to the Verizon store and then to the Apple store begging them to make sure the texts between the two of you will be saved forever and won’t be accidentally deleted.
Grief is torturing yourself by watching old videos of her, so you don’t forget the sound of her voice. You don’t know if you are doing this out of guilt, sadness, nostalgia, or love. You think it might be all of them.
Grief is holding onto random notes she scribbled just so you can see her handwriting.
Grief is writing to her in a journal every day about what’s happening in our lives and the news, so you feel like she isn’t missing out.
Grief is having an overabundance of love to give.
Grief is perking up when you also meet someone your age who has lost a parent because you know that person will get it.
Grief is many days wanting to stay in bed but then hearing her voice in your head telling me that I will feel a whole lot better if I get up, exercise, and spread joy to other people.
Grief is hating that she is right even in death, of course.
Grief is wanting to live your life to honor her and make it special for your son and family just like she did for you all.
Grief is going on a drive and listening to all the songs that remind you of her and sobbing while you play them.
Grief is wanting to get a shower just so you can have a good place to cry alone.
Grief is being excited to go to sleep because maybe you’ll see her in your dreams tonight.
Grief is waking up to the crushing reality that she is still dead. Every. single. day.
Grief is having nothing but so much love for her.
And most of all, grief just is.
| | Lauren Barrett is a multi-passionate mom working to help all people become their best selves and build positive relationships with the people around them. She has a degree in deaf education and a Master’s in Reading Education. She is a high school teacher of the Deaf and hard-of-hearing, a former cross country coach, a writer/author, and a full time mom to an amazing 4-year old. Lauren is a 3x author, including children’s book, Henry’s Hiccups, and parenting guide Now What? Mindful Checklists for Life’s Hard Parenting Moments. She is a blogger at Lauren Barrett Writes. Currently, she is grieving her loving mom’s unexpected death and devoting her time to helping people learn about grief, insomnia, and anxiety in honor of her mom. She loves her faith, running, visiting MLB stadiums with her husband, chocolate, scrapbooking, pretending she would actually do well on the Amazing Race, re-watching The Office, listening to Bobby Bones, and helping out all moms. She lives in North Carolina with her husband, James, and son, Henry. Follow her on her blog and get her free kind for sleep and anxiety, Stress Free Sleep. |
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