Messages from Beyond: True stories of mothers" love that reaches beyond life and death
MOM'S SAVING VOICE
ESP is an accepted part of my family. Especially the women. I often joke with my mother, "Can't you just call me on the phone like other mothers?" There have been instances in my life that weren't funny, and each time I have thanked God and my lucky stars for my mom and those abilities.
In August of 1975, I was 18 and living away from home. I had decided to take my clothes to the laundromat behind the restaurant where I worked, and since it was almost ten o'clock at night, I thought I would help my boyfriend, who also worked there as a cook, close up while my things were in the machine.
After setting my things to wash, I walked the short way to the back of the restaurant and immediately developed some kind of "fixation" on a rather nondescript, gold-colored car. I even turned around to look at it a final time before entering the back of the kitchen area. Once inside, I started to walk to the front of the kitchen area and then decided against it and simply leaned against a door area where I could not be seen from the front.
It became quiet and, thinking that the last of the evening patrons had left, I started to take a step to go into the restaurant when I heard my mom's voice, as though she were standing there say, "Kris, don't move!" So I didn't! And after a minute or two the waitress on duty came screaming to the back about something being "alright" and grabbed the phone to call the police because they had just been robbed at gunpoint!
I was to learn that had I walked into view of the doorway, I would have seen my boyfriend lying face down on the floor, the waitress and the few customers on their knees, and I would have been directly behind the gunmen who were so nervous I probably would have been shot when I startled him.
I called my mom after this happened and she said, "I'm glad you called. You've been on my mind and I've been worried about you!" The Lord keep her and bless her! -- Kris
MY MOTHER, THE ANGEL
My first child was born four months after my mother died. I was married in my home town in Texas and started a family immediately. I began to notice my husband was very unstable and couldn't keep a job long enough to lay down roots, but being from a very religious family, I stayed with him and "did the right thing." We struggled financially, moved from one run-down rental to another, depending on the church for many things we needed just to survive. It was totally humiliating!
After five years, our second daughter was born, and by that time I could tell my life was not going to improve unless I got out and made it happen. She was three when I made the painful decision to go back to Texas and start a career, never to look back. I started going on interviews. My confidence was low and my experience sparse. But one day, feeling very hopeful, I went on an interview and for some reason the job seemed like answered prayer. It was perfect for me, and I was down to my last ounce of hope for getting hired.
Then the call came: I was turned down! I remember almost collapsing in my front room on the couch from exhaustion, disappointment, and hopelessness. I didn't understand why my life had to be so hard, so painful, and why I didn't get the job. In my spirit, I must have been crying out for my mother like a small child because I know she came and sat down beside me. She put her (spiritual) arm around my shoulders, and a said, "Glenda, you don't belong there! You'll find the right job for you!" Although there were no words spoken, the message was loud and clear, and I was filled with such hope and calm and peace.
Now, 15 years later, I am well-established, successful, and able to give my children a good home and a mother's undying love. I remember that day like it was yesterday! Thank you, Mom! I know you're there when I need you! -- Glenda
WHAT MOM GAVE US
In September, 2012, I had a very vivid dream of my mother, who passed away a few years previous. It was a dream full of symbolism -- and perhaps more.
My mother was the wise, caring mother to 12 children -- 7 girls and 5 boys -- I being the seventh in the lineup. Virtually all of my dreams about family, whether of the one with my brothers and sisters or of my own children, take place in the large house I grew up in. In this dream, my mother was sitting in a chair on the landing of the stairs that goes from the kitchen to the upstairs hallway in this house. There has never been a chair there, and I think the symbolism here is that she was halfway between this world and the next (half way up).
She looked youthful, perhaps in her early forties, and a few of us children were standing before her. We were small children, all younger than ten. (This is the only dream I can recall having as an adult in which I was a small child.) Suddenly, it looked as though my mother had died, sitting there, and I called out, "Mommy!"
She opened her eyes. She wasn't dead. (More symbolism: Even though she had passed away, she wasn't really gone.) She began to give us a message: She said she didn't have any cake or ice cream for us, but that she had already given us everything that we need. I now interpret this to mean that she could not make life perfect for us -- sweetness and light -- but that she had given us the knowledge, wisdom, and moral center to get through it all. Indeed she had.
The rest, she said, she would leave to Mrs. Perry -- a friend of the family. At first I did not understand the meaning of this, until I realized that Mrs. Perry was my godmother. She was leaving the rest to God?
That was the end of the dream. And we all know from experience that we do not generally remember dreams unless we wake up during them or shortly after. I had this dream in the middle of the night and probably would not have remembered it except for a strange occurrence. A large poster, which had been rolled up and standing undisturbed in the corner of the bedroom for well over a year, inexplicably fell over, waking me up. Had it not fallen and awakened me, I would not have remembered this wonderful message dream from my mother.
But there is one more facet to this story that makes me feel that it was more than just a dream. I was so moved by this experience that I wanted to share it with my brothers and sisters. I logged on to our family website, where we share family news and photos, to tell the story. Before I did so, there was a note from my sister reminding us of something I had forgotten: this day was the anniversary of our mother's death. -- Stephen
ESP is an accepted part of my family. Especially the women. I often joke with my mother, "Can't you just call me on the phone like other mothers?" There have been instances in my life that weren't funny, and each time I have thanked God and my lucky stars for my mom and those abilities.
In August of 1975, I was 18 and living away from home. I had decided to take my clothes to the laundromat behind the restaurant where I worked, and since it was almost ten o'clock at night, I thought I would help my boyfriend, who also worked there as a cook, close up while my things were in the machine.
After setting my things to wash, I walked the short way to the back of the restaurant and immediately developed some kind of "fixation" on a rather nondescript, gold-colored car. I even turned around to look at it a final time before entering the back of the kitchen area. Once inside, I started to walk to the front of the kitchen area and then decided against it and simply leaned against a door area where I could not be seen from the front.
It became quiet and, thinking that the last of the evening patrons had left, I started to take a step to go into the restaurant when I heard my mom's voice, as though she were standing there say, "Kris, don't move!" So I didn't! And after a minute or two the waitress on duty came screaming to the back about something being "alright" and grabbed the phone to call the police because they had just been robbed at gunpoint!
I was to learn that had I walked into view of the doorway, I would have seen my boyfriend lying face down on the floor, the waitress and the few customers on their knees, and I would have been directly behind the gunmen who were so nervous I probably would have been shot when I startled him.
I called my mom after this happened and she said, "I'm glad you called. You've been on my mind and I've been worried about you!" The Lord keep her and bless her! -- Kris
MY MOTHER, THE ANGEL
My first child was born four months after my mother died. I was married in my home town in Texas and started a family immediately. I began to notice my husband was very unstable and couldn't keep a job long enough to lay down roots, but being from a very religious family, I stayed with him and "did the right thing." We struggled financially, moved from one run-down rental to another, depending on the church for many things we needed just to survive. It was totally humiliating!
After five years, our second daughter was born, and by that time I could tell my life was not going to improve unless I got out and made it happen. She was three when I made the painful decision to go back to Texas and start a career, never to look back. I started going on interviews. My confidence was low and my experience sparse. But one day, feeling very hopeful, I went on an interview and for some reason the job seemed like answered prayer. It was perfect for me, and I was down to my last ounce of hope for getting hired.
Then the call came: I was turned down! I remember almost collapsing in my front room on the couch from exhaustion, disappointment, and hopelessness. I didn't understand why my life had to be so hard, so painful, and why I didn't get the job. In my spirit, I must have been crying out for my mother like a small child because I know she came and sat down beside me. She put her (spiritual) arm around my shoulders, and a said, "Glenda, you don't belong there! You'll find the right job for you!" Although there were no words spoken, the message was loud and clear, and I was filled with such hope and calm and peace.
Now, 15 years later, I am well-established, successful, and able to give my children a good home and a mother's undying love. I remember that day like it was yesterday! Thank you, Mom! I know you're there when I need you! -- Glenda
WHAT MOM GAVE US
In September, 2012, I had a very vivid dream of my mother, who passed away a few years previous. It was a dream full of symbolism -- and perhaps more.
My mother was the wise, caring mother to 12 children -- 7 girls and 5 boys -- I being the seventh in the lineup. Virtually all of my dreams about family, whether of the one with my brothers and sisters or of my own children, take place in the large house I grew up in. In this dream, my mother was sitting in a chair on the landing of the stairs that goes from the kitchen to the upstairs hallway in this house. There has never been a chair there, and I think the symbolism here is that she was halfway between this world and the next (half way up).
She looked youthful, perhaps in her early forties, and a few of us children were standing before her. We were small children, all younger than ten. (This is the only dream I can recall having as an adult in which I was a small child.) Suddenly, it looked as though my mother had died, sitting there, and I called out, "Mommy!"
She opened her eyes. She wasn't dead. (More symbolism: Even though she had passed away, she wasn't really gone.) She began to give us a message: She said she didn't have any cake or ice cream for us, but that she had already given us everything that we need. I now interpret this to mean that she could not make life perfect for us -- sweetness and light -- but that she had given us the knowledge, wisdom, and moral center to get through it all. Indeed she had.
The rest, she said, she would leave to Mrs. Perry -- a friend of the family. At first I did not understand the meaning of this, until I realized that Mrs. Perry was my godmother. She was leaving the rest to God?
That was the end of the dream. And we all know from experience that we do not generally remember dreams unless we wake up during them or shortly after. I had this dream in the middle of the night and probably would not have remembered it except for a strange occurrence. A large poster, which had been rolled up and standing undisturbed in the corner of the bedroom for well over a year, inexplicably fell over, waking me up. Had it not fallen and awakened me, I would not have remembered this wonderful message dream from my mother.
But there is one more facet to this story that makes me feel that it was more than just a dream. I was so moved by this experience that I wanted to share it with my brothers and sisters. I logged on to our family website, where we share family news and photos, to tell the story. Before I did so, there was a note from my sister reminding us of something I had forgotten: this day was the anniversary of our mother's death. -- Stephen
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