By Michelle A. McLemore, CHTP, Rev.
Low embers cast a comforting glow from the fireplace. I sat in the recliner next to the hospital bed we had moved into the room. I observed the shallow rise and fall in my mother’s chest. I hoped my consistent energy reassured her. We daughters tended, listened, watched, and recorded in a family journal when medications were administered, bodily constitutions occurred, when she might sip water, as well as when she had discussions with spirits that we could not perceive.
We were blessed that Mom felt safe enough to share her experiences in the months and hours leading up to her transition from this world. Hers was the fourth close family death in four years. I felt that sharing the sacredness of these journeys—the before, during, and after—could help others refine their anxieties about passing and what it means to be alive. So, let us explore endings, beginnings, and continuations of soul connectivity.
∞ Spiritual interventions offer reassurance to move beyond the physical body for transcendent enlightenment.
The Torah, Bible, and Quran staunchly preach that only the Supreme Divine knows the exact timing of one’s death. The Torah states in Job 14:5, “You [God] know how many months we will live, and we are not given a minute longer.” The Quran, verse 57.3, describes Allah as having complete knowledge of all things, all-encompassing—beyond human perception and time. In Christianity’s New Testament, Matthew 24:36 states, “But about that day [the day of one’s death] or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son but only the Father.”
Yet, I would direct you to these scriptures’ focus on the exact moment of passing, allowing that angels, ancestors, and even the participant might know it is forthcoming. Per research, traditional Judaism suggests a belief that spirit relatives of someone dying may visit or even accompany a dying person into the afterlife. Sufi Islam, Hinduism, and many in the metaphysical community along with interstellar channelers and mediums, hold that it is possible for a person to have feelings of, or receive signs relating to, life transition.
Additionally, end of life doulas, Hospice workers, and palliative care givers have stories aplenty which align across cultures and times that we are not alone and that there is (more often than not) a process of acclimation to the separation of body and soul. This process often involves direct spiritual mentorship from angels, spiritual guides, prophets, prior deceased ancestors, pets, and friends which help one come to terms with leaving the physical realm. In Genesis 25:8, Abraham dies and is “gathered to his people.” Similar phrases are used for Jacob, Moses, and David, implying even biblically there is existence after death.
Deathbed Visions (DBVs) of deceased loved ones have been recorded to occur between 87 days and up to hours of a dying person’s passing. Most visits have been recorded by doctors and Hospice workers charting their patients’ experiences. In a study by Christopher W. Kerr, MD, PhD working in Buffalo, New York, out of 59 patients in Hospice, 88.1% reported at least one dream or vision of a deceased relative or friend. Other Hospice research recounts that “visits” are predominantly reported in the final 48 hours of life. Whether this is when visits occur the most or this is when people are most likely to share their experiences, remains a question.
DBVs include angels, beings of light, orbs, and religious figures floating at the ceiling. Others include deceased relatives standing at the side of the bed or hanging about in the room talking, making jokes, and reassuring the patient they would accompany them on departure.
One elderly man described to his wife a dog that was sitting near him in the hospital room. Later, the wife went through photos from the man’s youth and found a photo of his childhood dog—long deceased—looking exactly as her husband had described in his final hours.
Patricia Cota-Robles of eraofpeace.org, recently shared an experience her husband had. One morning, her husband confided that he dreamt he was told he was going to be leaving and would not be able to remain with his wife. She reassured him they would always be contactable through his heart. She asked if their deceased son, Joao, was part of giving the message. Her husband acknowledged their son was in the dream and that he had said, “Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m going to be with you for the rest of your life.” Recalling the conversation eased his mind and he felt no further anxiousness during the rest of his time leading to his death.
When my mother started to decline, she described on multiple occasions that her parents and siblings had visited at different times. On one particular night, all of her deceased family members came through at one time and then departed together. She was devastated about them leaving her behind. She was 84, in chronic pain, could barely see, had survived the death of her parents, all four of her younger siblings, her husband, and her only son. She was tired.
Yet, spiritual family visits aren’t isolated to the person transitioning. Sometimes they are encountered by attending family members as well. Two months prior to Mom’s passing, it was my sister Lisa’s turn to stay and keep an eye on Mom. During the night, Lisa dreamt of herself sleeping in the exact location. Our brother, Charles, who had passed about two years prior, peeked in the front window and woke her. He asked if Mom was around because he’d come to see her. Lisa suggested she was either in the back bathroom or in the bedroom. Her position shifted and she could see Charles standing in the front yard. He paused and said, “I can’t wait. I have to go help somebody now.” He turned, walked across the road and into the field on the other side where his body slowly faded away.
In the final days of my mother’s life, she would reach up, like trying to grasp something, or someone, and then when she couldn’t sustain the physical exertion, her arm would drop back to the bed. The same motions occurred in the last hours of my father-in-law’s life.
Visits in the person’s own room or dreams are one thing. But what about the visitations that occur elsewhere? Some DBVs tell of the terminal person being transported by beings to other places—beautiful gardens, lovely countrysides, places of light and warmth which they found comforting. These were not near-death experiences (NDEs) as monitors and technology would’ve notified medical personnel that organs had failed, oxygen had dropped, or brain activity ceased even for the shortest amount of time.
My father had one such out of body experience. I was at work doing an energy therapy session on a client about 15 minutes away. Family members were at the farmhouse sitting near his inert body. I was focused on balancing the energy of a client on the massage table. A CD was playing gentle background music. Then suddenly Dad’s voice spoke directly into my mind.
“So, this is what you do? I always wondered what a session was like.”
I was jolted in the midst of an energy technique. “Dad?” I hesitantly said in my mind. A brief sense of familiarity settled across my brain like a cotton candy cloud. I resumed work on the client and tried to stabilize. “Yes, this is what I do. Remember what this feels like. You can come visit me anytime.”
He didn’t reply. I looked down and my client was shaking. “Are you okay?” I asked. She was surprised and said she suddenly felt a wave of fear. I reached out to Dad again and sensed nothing.
I took a breath and suggested the fear was not hers. I explained that I thought it was my dad, who had just visited in spirit, and suddenly realized he was out of body. I explained the situation at home. She urged me to call and check on him and then we could resume her session.
A sibling answered the call and confirmed that a few minutes earlier his skin coloring had started to gray, but it seemed to be normalizing now. I returned to my client, and we finished her session. As it was my last one of the day, I drove to my parents’ home where I found several family members standing around Dad’s hospital bed, holding hands, and praying. They opened the circle for me to join. I stood by his left ear and leaned down to softly say, “Hi Dad. Thanks for coming to visit me earlier. It really is that easy to do. We’re all here now, though. So, if you want to go, it’s okay.”
For the first time in several days, without opening his eyes, he gritted out, “I’m not dying yet.” I chuckled, patted his shoulder and said, “Okay, man. Get some rest.” I told the others he was hanging out longer and tensions calmed.
Though skeptics generally point to drug-induced hallucinations or reduced oxygen as a cause for these episodes, many experiences documented are from people not on any drugs and not having a drop in oxygen. It’s also important to note that drugs used for terminal patients often produce frightening or agitating dreams, not calming and pleasant ones. Advanced dementia or life regrets may also cause some initial disturbing DBVs. Negative DBVs aren’t the norm though. Research summaries cite negative DBVs occur less than 12 percent of the time.
One study shared the experience of a World War II veteran who endured PTSD most of his life. He rarely slept peacefully and experienced many years of terminal agitation. As he neared the end, he experienced one night of deep sleep during which he dreamt of soldiers meeting him. They assured him they would come to get him for the transition, so he didn’t have to worry about leaving anyone behind—a responsibility he still felt from his military years. He slept peacefully each night from then until his passing.
Psychologists might contend DBVs are the subconscious trying to come to terms with closure of this lifetime, tying up emotional loose ends. And yet, there are strong similarities in the encounters and feel of the journeying visits across all faith beliefs—from atheist to Catholic, Buddhist to Baptist.
∞ In the countdown of separation of the physical body from the soul, an individual’s abilities to perceive spirits in general may be heightened.
My mother never acted, nor said, anything to make me question she was withholding secret abilities. However, her “knowing” of others’ intentions and spiritual perception amplified in the final few months.
One day in December, I stopped in at her house after work as I did each day. She was sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the sink cabinet. She was smiling, entirely content. I inquired what she was doing and began carefully checking the scene. I didn’t see any blood, nor did anything look broken or askew.
She explained she had fallen, but she was fine. “The little girl has been keeping me company. We’ve been playing.” I paused to look out of my peripheral vision because Mom was looking at a spot to my right. I didn’t see nor sense anything.
“Well, that was nice of her,” I said. “Thank you, little girl.” Then I shifted focus to Mom. “It’s time to get you off the floor.” Mom’s gaze came to me and then went back to the right and she startled.
“Where did she go? Where is the little girl?” she asked, alarmed.
I suggested the child may have gone outside now that I was there to help. Maybe it was time for her parents to pick her up? Mom’s voice raised in distress.
“No. She’s my little girl!”
I’ll admit it took me a moment to ground myself. I sought words of consolation. “Ah. Well, then she’s no doubt around here somewhere. I’m sure she’ll be back if you need her again.”
Later, I remembered when I’d taken her to an angel reading. The reader picked her out of the crowd and noted, she was a mother of many children. When she asked Mom how many children she had, Mom answered “five.” The reader abruptly responded, “Why do you say five? You have seven. There are two children around you most of the time.”
Among the audience of 50, Mom gave me a sideways look. “I lost a couple.”
The reader dismissed it. “You didn’t lose them. They are still with you, checking in and sending you love.”
∞ Sometimes spirit visits occur to observe or send messages to us during both our waking hours and dreams.
Our deceased friends and relatives may attempt to come to us directly if we are open to such visits mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Visits from the deceased don’t make them ghosts any more than it makes us mediums or channelers. It just shows they can still connect, care, and may be trying to inform us about either our lives, the real “reality” of all existence, or even information for the good of the greater community.
For some survivors, these visits include smelling familiar scents, feeling warmth in the deceased’s favorite chair, electronics going on or off, or hearing certain songs come on the radio at synchronic times. Sometimes there might be something more tangible.
One day, my siblings gathered in the kitchen to make lists of how we would tackle the process of cleaning out the farm after my mother’s passing. My eldest sister was standing when suddenly something tapped her on the shoulder. She noticeably jumped. No one was close enough to have done it. She took it as one of the parents or our brother telling her to stop delaying and get on with the process.
In 2017, my mother’s last remaining sibling passed on April 27. Shortly after, on May 19 my brother, Charles, passed unexpectedly. Three months later, I dreamt I saw myself in a complete white background answering a ringing phone. The voice on the other end was Charles.
“Uncle Mike is here now. They had to go get him, but he’s here now.”
I said, “Thank you.” And the call ended.
The dream raised several thoughts: Where had Uncle Mike been? What had caused his delay to get to a safe afterlife dimension? And who was this “they” that honorably went to get Mike? Finally, how amazing that my brother telephoned me to share the news. It would be a comfort to mom on multiple layers, and I did share it with her.
The backstory is that my uncle had fought severe depression for many years and had finally committed suicide. That being said, I don’t believe suicides go to “Hell.” Frankly, they already lived in one. However, the dream phone call made me wonder if Mike’s soul had regret and so chose to linger close to his grieving wife and children. My dream was not based on any questions or anxiety that I had. Charles “called” as soon as he could because he knew our Mom would be deeply sad and concerned about the suicide teachings she had been taught in Catholic school.
Lisa had a more visceral dream experience with Charles. During the months of cleaning the house, she dreamt she was standing in the farmhouse, and Charles was there with her. They walked across the living room, dining room, and he ducked his head into the front bedroom. He kept thoughtfully nodding his head as if he approved that things were progressing well—a familiar supervisor mode he had often carried. As they were standing in the dining room, she was able to ask if he was okay. He said, “Oh, yes.” Then they hugged and she recalls it felt real—more physical than any other dream experience she’s had.
Oftentimes visits from loved ones are simpler. You may see them briefly in a scene smiling at you. The summer before my high school junior year, one of my close friends died in an auto accident. After several months I dreamt of an all-white space—no floors, no describable background. But there in front of me was Karen. Looking happy to see me. Healthy. All freckles and smiles like I remembered her. It was my first post-life spirit visit. And as such, I wasn’t quite prepared.
I looked at her beaming face, and said, “That can’t be you. You’re dead.”
She smiled. Shook her head slowly—like she was disappointed in me—and the dream ended.
When I woke up, I shook my head at myself. What an opportunity I missed for asking questions! Yet, it was a beginning, and for that, I’m grateful. In these later years, I’ve been fortunate to take walks with her in other dreams and noted that her personality has developed beyond the nervous teen I once knew. I’m glad she didn’t give up on me.
Spirit visitations may continue through the years. I’ve had dreams indicating human and animal spirits checking in before someone passes. I’ve received visions of how deceased relatives are doing in the other realms. I’ve observed different jobs on the other side. I’ve had my name called audibly while awake and had lights flicker. And yes, I’ve been cheeky enough to challenge it.
Recently, I said, “Okay, if this is a friendly spirit visit, make the lamp over the table flicker.” Nothing happened. I said, “It’s okay, I know I don’t know how it all works and that might be more difficult.” That night, I went to bed and dreamt I was again standing at the table and suddenly, the light flickered. I laughed in the dream and said, “I see what you did there.”
The point is that spirits often do visit to prepare someone for an energy transition from this life to the next as well as a recently departed does visit once they have the energetic stability to do so.
Interestingly, in the last few years I’ve also begun receiving visits regarding my own mortality. Let me clarify: I am not sick nor diagnosed with anything terminal. I embrace myself as a witness, a recorder, and a receiver. I trust spirit will prepare me as the time for departure draws near. Until then, I will listen, watch, and share what I learn.
Michelle McLemore is a writer, speaker, workshop instructor, and energy practitioner. Her background as a psychology and writing teacher supports personalized client self-care and workshops to create balance, intuition, connectivity, and vitality. Learn more at facebook.com/MichelleMcLemoreHealingGuide, michelle.mclemore on Instagram, and mclemore.substack.com. Email inquiries to energy@michellemclemore.com.
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We were blessed that Mom felt safe enough to share her experiences in the months and hours leading up to her transition from this world. Hers was the fourth close family death in four years. I felt that sharing the sacredness of these journeys—the before, during, and after—could help others refine their anxieties about passing and what it means to be alive. So, let us explore endings, beginnings, and continuations of soul connectivity.