Meeting My Dad in Heaven

[Giulia]

Meeting my Dad in Heaven

I had been having mind awake – body asleep out-of-the body experiences for some 25 years when my father passed on in June 2014. My key goal had always been visiting the Afterlife and checking on my loved ones on the other side, but in June 2014 everything suddenly started getting much more difficult for me, because of the state of grief I was in.

On the morning of 12 March 2015, I happened to be at home alone, as my husband and son were spending two days in Rome. I had my mobile set as usual on a double alarm, one at 6:00 am and another one at 6:10. However, that morning I did not need to drive our son to school and had no pressing engagement, so, after swiping on my iPhone lock screen to switch off the alarm at 6:00 am, I fell asleep again. When the alarm went off at 6:10, after swiping the lock screen again, I simply turned around. I was shocked to see my husband’s silhouette lying under the blankets. That could not be. He was in Rome. I realised that between switching the alarm off and turning around in bed, I must have instantly plunged into mind-awake body-asleep mode. Without a second thought, I decided to use this opportunity to check on my father in Heaven.

I walked through the bedroom wall and found myself in a huge space filled with bright light and colours, with staircases and glass partitions. I remembered not to go rushing around (which, in my excited state, could have caused me to wake up before I found my father), but to ask for directions.

I stopped at a round table, where a man sat with a young boy, and asked, ‘Where’s Dad?’

They promptly referred me to another person, who would have the answer. I had to climb a very high, steep staircase, which was impossible for me to do in physical life, at the time, owing to disability; but in the spirit world, this was no obstacle for me. The person I was directed to gave me the final piece of advice I needed to locate my dad, which is what I did.

I must point out that, unlike most of my ordinary OBEs, this experience was absolutely just as real as everyday life. There was no difference between the perception I had of this experience and my physical life.

In my search for my father, I received help to focus on where I was, to keep grounded, so that excitement would not wake me. This assistance came in the form of a number of cards I found on my way, which I picked up and read carefully. The cards displayed beautiful angelic pictures and inspiring messages.

The final directions I received were the right ones, and I found my father in a farming region we used to visit as children, as it was the place where my father’s father was born. I found we had rooms we could use during our meeting, as well as the familiar farmyard with trees and vegetation outdoors to walk around.

My father looked as he did in his 50s (he was almost 79 when he ‘died’). He wore no glasses (I was reminded of how he had always taken them off for photographs) and was dressed in a grey long-sleeved polo shirt I remembered clearly from when he was ‘alive’. He looked wonderfully healthy. We hugged for a long time.

After we pulled apart, he was anxious to show me some things. We sat in some kind of crowded reception area, which I later realised must be one of those places where we, the so-called ‘living’, meet the so-called ‘dead’, especially at night during sleep, even if we cannot remember such experiences in the morning.

My dad was very keen to let me know he had continued writing ‘thoughts’ (my father always loved writing poems and stories, but these were actually ‘thoughts’, a word he always used when signing postcards or letters). He proudly said, ‘I have written 1,176 thoughts,’ and showed me a thick pile of papers he had handwritten and insisted on delivering to me.

This was all so real, I did not realise he was handing me something made in spirit matter. I kept telling him, ‘No, Dad, I know how these things go. I have already tried. The pile of papers will not get back with me in the physical world!’ Only later did I realise he had actually delivered his thoughts to me nonetheless, and that he was not asking me to do something impossible.

He then showed me something that looked halfway between a scrapbook and a photo album. It was thick and made of some kind of velvety material. It contained a collection of pictures and souvenirs, with many photos in black and white. This showed me how much he kept thinking of us all, and of all the people who had been part of his physical life, even if some of these memories belonged to the ancient past and these people were now in Heaven with him. I spent quite a long time going through the album page by page.

Now that a few years have gone by, I have realised that, beside the thousands of colour pictures my father has taken over the years, the black and white photographs might have been a metaphor for the fact that he has very fond memories of times spent on Earth, and treasures them in a precious album, even though on this physical plane we do not get the full-colour picture of life events. The feeling he is conveying to me is that, even if we are narrow-minded in spiritual terms during our physical lives, we are no less lovable than when we are fully aware and awake in the spirit world; and he cherishes all these memories, in an absolutely non-judgmental manner, irrespective of the imperfections (black and white versus colour) we may see from our limited perspective.

I was also surprised by the synchronicity that, months after the event, I made great efforts to give my nine-year-old nephew some scrapbooks to introduce him to scrapbooking. One of them was already meant to include black and white pictures of our family, including ancestors, which my mother prepared several years ago in order to allow her grandchildren to create a family tree album.

Next, my dad showed me a small stand, located on top of something else, which I lifted and brought down. It contained a number of very precious souvenirs and collectibles, which I carefully examined. After I had gone through them, my father said, ‘Please put it right back where you got it. These are delicate things!’ I realised the word ‘delicate’ could also apply to how my account of this meeting, filtered through my own perception and understanding, would impact others—who, in turn, would filter the account through their perceptions—and, more generally, how our spirit essence may manifest in the physical in a multitude of ways. This can give rise to misunderstandings, when we are caught in the illusion of this physical world.

I realised this was not a dwelling of sorts, but rather a reception area, because of its size and the many people sitting there with us.

My father then showed me he was taking good care of himself, by exercising, and showed me a couple of toiletry bags he had with him, just to prove he had all he could possibly need. Above all, I believe this was meant to reassure me, as my last memories of him, when he was lying in hospital, were that he had to rely on his toiletry bags for his medicines and belongings, and it was sad to think these ‘things’ had survived him on the physical plane. My feeling was that he wanted me to know that he has all he needs, and the idea that all his physical items are now lying unused in wardrobes and drawers is mere fantasy, as they too have a spirit essence.

It was at this stage that my dad showed me a particular exercise, which involved using gym equipment emitting some mild electrical impulses designed to massage and tame what we sometimes call our ‘power centre’, our stomach area, where fear, anger, frustration, hate or other unhealthy feelings tend to get stuck. I used to suffer a lot from pain in this area, and I still occasionally dwell on hard feelings, instead of investing my potential energy in more spiritual ways.

Now, a few years after the event, I understand that my father was showing me what I needed to work on: I have always felt both premonitions and anxiety in the form of stomach discomfort or ache, but my worst and most disastrous decisions have always resulted from acting upon my gut instinct. I now realise how important it is to consult my heart and head intelligences, as well.

This reinforces my feeling that learning to use our power centre in non-destructive, but loving and harmonious ways while immersed in this physical world can bring tremendous positive change to our planet and to our personal lives.

When I finally left my father at 6:25 am (I am sure of the time, as I checked my iPhone watch as soon as I opened my physical eyes), he sat at a round table together with my mum (who was at that time asleep in bed, and had never had a dream contact with my father since he ‘died’). This confirmed my supposition that, even if we do not remember dream contacts with our loved ones on the other side, we meet with them regularly.

I opened my eyes and found myself in bed, with no apparent change in my state of consciousness. Everything was as it was when I first switched off the alarm and walked through my bedroom wall to visit Heaven.

Unlike most of my otherworldly experiences, this was incredibly long and there was no psychological urge to return to the physical life, or fear of being ‘shut out’ of my body, as I used to experience. Indeed, I had recently realised that William Buhlman was right when he described astral travel as a safe inner journey, even though there does not appear to be a real notion of ‘in’ and ‘out’ in the spirit world.

Sadly, after this experience, I was not allowed to relate it to a number of my relatives, but I must say that the last memory I had of my father during his last night and day on Earth, and later in the coffin, has now been permanently replaced by his new healthy, lively and juvenile self.

I now understand the unease that near-death experiencers feel when they try to report their stories, or even when they silently carry their stories in their hearts. I realise that (irrespective of personal religious beliefs) we are daily hypnotised to believe death is the end, or that whatever lies beyond death is none of our business. Even those who listen to my account carefully somehow regard it as a dream or a paranormal phenomenon—but it was as real as anything that happens to me in waking life.

Soon after this experience, the ‘thoughts’ my father had handed to me started pouring effortlessly into our lives. For instance, a few days later, a brother with whom I had initially been discouraged from sharing my account, and who takes tremendous care in looking after our father’s grave, sent to all us siblings some pictures he had recently scanned. One he said none of us could have ever possibly seen was a picture of my dad standing in the exact setting in which I had met him. At that very time, my brother had also scanned an old postcard my father had written to his mother when I was very small, which addressed her as ‘the travelling mum’. It was signed with the words ‘caring thoughts’. I understood this to relate both to me now (I am a ‘travelling mum’) and to my mother, who, even though she is unaware of meeting him, I saw sitting at a table with him in the reception area at a time when she was deeply asleep.

I now realise that grief for me has once again been the opportunity to walk the extra mile and prove that life never ends, and that death is an illusion.

I need to stress that I have always felt that an out-of-body experience is nothing more than a state of greater lucidity than a lucid dream, which, if we so desire, can be a natural launch pad to astral travel.

P.S. About the 1,176 thoughts my Dad mentioned, I need to add that a few years after this experience, our son was working on his University graduation thesis, which had to do with Dante’s Heaven. When the huge book about Dante’s Heaven arrived, I was shocked to notice it was exactly 1,176 pages long. I know this has nothing to do with the author’s ideas, but it has to do with the title of this huge white book: HEAVEN.

[Kaz]

Thank you for this beautiful post Giulia. I've learnt so much from it.

[Giulia]

Thank you, Kaz

I have just added a P.S. about something I couldn’t have known in 2015.

[Kaz]

Wow! That's a very specific number! It's amazing how messages get reinforced like that. And in such a beautiful way