Kathleen M. Rehl, Ph.D., CFP®, CeFT® Emeritus
“Tom, after you die, please send me a sign from the other side . . . wherever you are. I can’t imagine life without you. Please find a way to communicate with me when you’re gone.”
“Oh, Honey, I don’t know if I can promise to do that. But I’ll try.”
Only a month before, my late husband and I received his diagnosis in the oncologist’s office—incurable, inoperable cancer with a short time to live.
Three weeks later, right before Valentine’s Day, Tom’s ravaging cancer crashed our marriage of two decades.
That’s when he started sending signs from the other side. (You also need to know that Tom was a retired ordained Lutheran minister, a very spiritual man.)
An Early Sign
Years ago, I occasionally found coins on my daily walks. No big deal. Everybody comes across coins sometimes. When I strolled solo after Tom’s death, I often discovered pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters and even a couple of silver dollars. I smiled as the song “Pennies from Heaven” drifted through my thoughts. I fantasized these finds were from Tom.
During one of my early morning walks, a small slip of paper blew down a bare side street toward me. I picked it up. Surprise—a $100 bill! I sensed Tom’s playful self nearby. I knew where the breeze came from that blew my gift.
I heard my newly appointed guardian angel say, “Nuts with those little pennies you found before, Kathleen. We’re moving up big-time today!”
Amazingly, I found another $100 bill two years later while writing my book, Moving Forward on Your Own: A Financial Guidebook for Widows. I felt Tom’s encouragement. My local bank verified both hundred-dollar bills as real. They are in my home safe, never to be spent.
Now I still find coins. It’s comforting to imagine that maybe this is Tom’s way of staying in touch although he’s gone physically. (If you have a copy of the first issue of my book, one of those found pennies is glued to page 69.)
Five weeks after Tom’s passing, my mother entered hospice care. Near the end, my brother and I gave Mom permission to let go. Transitioning was difficult. On her final day with us, she reported seeing a bright bridge with several long-deceased relatives on the opposite side waving happily—her mother, grandmother, husband, cousins, aunts, and others.
Although in discomfort, Mom kept repeating “awesome, awesome, awesome” almost as a mantra. She clearly saw what was awesome ahead—a light shining on those who crossed the bridge before her. Yes, they were ready to embrace and welcome her.
“They’re all waiting for me until I get there to start a party!” Mom stated.
“It’s OK. You can go be with them, Mom,” my brother and I replied.
“When it’s time for you kids to cross that same bridge, I’ll meet you and help you across, too. Promise,” she assured us.
A few minutes later she smiled, seeing someone else in her visualization. Within an hour Mom passed peacefully. As my brother and I left hospice that night, we saw a pile of pennies on the sidewalk ahead of us. Tom’s voice spoke in my heart, giving me much comfort.
“I walked Mom across the bridge so we could get her party going!”
A Third Sign
A month after my late husband’s death, I drove on a busy interstate highway to meet with a distant client. I was worried about the traffic, as Tom always chauffeured my long trips before. During my evening drive home, a surprise, torrential rainstorm hit. I couldn’t see well in the blinding downpour. Suddenly, a huge metal box fell from a truck ahead of me. I swerved to the right, not sure if anyone might be in that lane. Luckily, the closest driver followed several lengths back. I missed smashing into that massive obstruction. Pulling over to stop and sob in the breakdown lane, my tears punctuated the disaster avoided.
“Oh, my gosh, Tom. You stopped this accident, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. That’s a great part of where I am. I was in two places at once. I prevented your accident in Florida. Same time, I also helped our son with his problem in Colorado.”
More Signs as Love Lives On
In my first year after Tom’s death, he sent me over a dozen clear signs. After that, I stopped counting. I believe the veil between this life and what’s beyond is gossamer thin. Loved ones may reach out to us after they pass on, giving guidance, helping directly, offering insight, and sometimes sharing a laugh.
By the way . . . there is scholarly evidence that human consciousness remains after death. Go here to read more.
About a year after my late husband’s death, he came to me as I sat on the backyard swing overlooking the beautiful lake behind our house. He and I often sat and talked at that location over the years.
“You’re doing well, Kathleen. You found your new purpose assisting other widows. Time for me to move on. There’s other important work for me to do. If you ever really need me, I’ll help if I can. Just call out. I’m proud of you and will always love you.”
A breeze blew across the lake, and he was gone. Tom has appeared in my dreams since then, usually at a distance. I still find coins, but not as frequently as before. Sometimes those pennies come with a message—like today when I found another coin during a morning errand. I smiled hearing Tom’s voice in my head.
“Everything is going to work out this year!”
Yes, my guardian angel’s encouraging message gave me a smile. I believe his prediction is correct. In the meantime, I’ll fondly enjoy Tom’s heaven-sent pennies as they arrive.
Kathleen M. Rehl, Ph.D., CFP®, CeFT® Emeritus wrote the award-winning book, Moving Forward on Your Own: A Financial Guidebook for Widows. She owned Rehl Financial Advisors for 18 years before retiring to a six-year encore career empowering widows. Now happily “reFired” in her mid-70s, Rehl writes legacy prose and poetry plus assists nonprofits. Her work has been featured in the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Kiplinger’s, CNBC, USA Today, other publications, and online. Her website is https://kathleenrehl.com.