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After-Death Communication (ADC) Experiences

Personal Accounts - Full Appearances: Visual ADCs 2

Eileen is a substance abuse counselor in Florida. She had this thrilling visit the night her sister, Leslie, died from complications of diabetes at age 50:

I lay down on the bed and was crying. Suddenly, I had a feeling there was somebody in the room, somebody just standing there. I sat halfway up and looked at the foot of my bed, and there Leslie stood!

She looked gorgeous! She was dressed in white, and her hair was upswept into a beautiful, smooth Grecian coiffure. Her skin was just as smooth as alabaster. I was so taken aback!

She appeared very serene and was half smiling. She looked better than she had ever looked and was very solid and real. It seemed she was about to lean over and say something to comfort and reassure me.

Then I heard a whoosh, and she was gone. It didn’t frighten me – it left me with a feeling like “Oh, Leslie’s all right! She came back to tell me she’s okay.” I lay back down feeling very comforted and went to sleep.

When I tell people this experience, they say, “Oh, you were asleep, you dreamed it.” But I know I wasn’t – I know I was awake. It’s every bit as real to me now as it was to me then.

 

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Gordon, an architect in New Mexico, was contacted by an old friend of the family, Mrs. Tinsley, who died at age 93:

I went into the viewing room at the funeral home to pay my last respects to Mrs. Tinsley. I was the only person there. As I was standing looking at her body, I heard, “Gordon, it’s okay if you cry.”

I looked around because it was Granny Tinsley’s voice! When I looked up, she was on the other side of the room, maybe ten feet away. It was like she was really there – I could see all of her. Her hands were slightly lifted, and she had on a different dress than she was wearing in the casket.

Suddenly, I had this explosive sob – it was really wrenching! I was really hurting, but I didn’t know it. I looked away and cried, and when I looked again, she wasn’t there anymore.

I don’t think I would have cried if she hadn’t said something. I knew I missed her, but I would have just kept it bottled up inside. Since then, I’ve remembered on occasion that it’s okay to cry because Mrs. Tinsley gave me permission.