March 29, 2024 • 53 mins
Stories of peaceful & pleasant passings accompanied by our favorite ‘deceased’ people!
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Speaker 1 (00:05):
Welcome to the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM paranormal
podcast network. This is the place to be if you're
ready for the best podcasts of the paranormal, curious.
Speaker 2 (00:15):
And sometimes unexplained. Now listen to this.
Speaker 3 (00:25):
Welcome to our podcast. Please be aware the thoughts and
opinions expressed by the host are their thoughts and opinions
only and do not reflect those of iHeartMedia, iHeartRadio, Coast
to Coast AM, employees of premier networks, or their sponsors
and associates. We would like to encourage you to do
(00:45):
your own research and discover the subject matter for yourself. Hi.
I'm Sandra Champlain. For over twenty five years, I've been
on a journey to prove the existence of life after death.
On each episode, we'll discuss the reasons we now know
(01:08):
that our loved ones have survived physical death, and so
will we. Welcome to Shades of the Afterlife. Today, we're
going to honor all those kind hearted people who work
or volunteer with hospice. We're going to hear many stories
today of heavenly visitors who appear to the dying while
(01:29):
under hospice care, giving hope and comfort. To all that
no one dies alone and that we are indeed all
escorted into the afterlife with love. Also a special shout
out and words of acknowledgment to those of you Shades
of the Afterlife listeners who were so moved by prior
(01:50):
episodes that you have taken on volunteering with Hospice. Many
people have told me that one sure way to get
over the fear of dying and to know the reality
of the afterlife is to be part of hospice. So
thank you all of you who donate your time and
those who may just be inspired to do so after
(02:12):
this episode. Unfortunately, so many people die alone, and those
loving souls that work and volunteer with hospice really do
give people the very best care right up unto the
end of this physical existence. Cicily Saunders, who was born
back in nineteen eighteen, founded the first modern hospice and
(02:37):
more than anybody else, was responsible for establishing the discipline
and the culture of palliative care. She introduced effective pain
management and insisted that dying people need dignity, compassion and respect.
Saint Christopher's Hospice opened in the southwest of London back
(02:58):
in nineteen sixty seven. It is now one of many,
but it is still the leader in the field. It
was her personal achievement that has now been imitated all
over the world. As of twenty twenty three, there are
over eighty eight hundred hospices and palliative care centers in
the US alone, with at least another eighty five hundred
(03:22):
in one hundred and twenty five countries around the world.
Hospice provides the best possible quality of life for not
only patients, but families of those with six or less
months to live. Sicily Saunders introduced the idea of total
pain management, which includes physical, emotional, social, and spiritual dimensions
(03:45):
of distress, and hospice will do everything possible to have
the patient pain free, whether they live their final days
in a hospice care facility or in their own home.
I'd like to especially mention and the YouTube channels of
hospice nurse Julie the end Well Project, and hospice doctor
(04:06):
Christopher Kerr, author of Death Is But a Dream. The
current book I am reading is called Final Gifts Understanding
the Special Awareness, Needs and Communications of the Dying by
hospice nurses Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelly. To find more
of my past episodes about these heavenly visitors that appear
(04:29):
by the bedside, please refer back to Shades of the
Afterlife episodes seven forty one, one twenty two, and one
fifty four. Before we get into our stories today, let's
hear a few words from doctor Christopher Kerr.
Speaker 2 (04:47):
In times of illness, we are drawn closer to those
in need an endure tragedy through gestures of compassion and concern.
The global calamity of COVID nineteen has not just brought death,
It is also operated us from each other and from
those we love. As a hospice physician who spend decades
at the bedside of dying patients, I have come to
(05:08):
realize that no matter how physically alone patients are, few
of them die alone. End of life is more than
a medical endeavor. Dying is more than the physical manifestations
we observe. When medicine can no longer defy illness, nature
assumes its rightful place, and dying becomes what has always
been a human experience. Is not just the closing of
(05:30):
a life, but a meaningful vantage point that draws people
inward towards the end of life, people often recall the
best parts of living. For some, this occurs consciously through conversations.
For others, it comes unconsciously through dreams. The dying process
is about progressively deeper sleep and alternating levels of alertness.
(05:52):
These states are not moments of confusion or delirium, and
our studies that dying describe them as comforting subjective experiences
that bring and clarity and insight and a peaceful end
of life. These experiences include vivid dreams. At end of life,
people rarely share existential insights or exuberant pronouncements. They don't
have epiphanies. Instead, they talk of love in a way
(06:15):
that restores their sense of connectiveness of being made whole.
Elderly patients experience the return of the mother or father
they lost in childhood. Women cradle babies long loss to
their touch. They visualize a world where their best relationships
define their purpose and their true accomplishments. As a doctor,
I do not need to be able to explain these
(06:36):
end of life experiences to my patients, nor interfere medically.
I've learned to show reverence for the strength of the
human spirit in its endless quest to heal what is harmed
or broken. While we may envision ventilators and ivs, the
dying often experience love, presence, and even touch of predeceased
loved ones. They revisit the memories of being held and cherished.
(06:58):
The culmination of a life, rather than its demise. The
dying teach us that the best parts of having lived
are never truly lost. A lesson seems clear. The totality
of our human experience can never be defined or reduced
by its last moments.
Speaker 3 (07:14):
You can find out more about doctor Kerr at doctor
Christopher Kerr dot com, spell it Dr Christopher Karr dot com.
I know for me it's exciting to hear after life stories,
near death experience stories, deathbed visitation stories. They're all great
(07:37):
that help us believe. But am I ready to die?
Do I want to die? The answer is no. I
think it's part of being human for us to want
to live as long as possible. We each have that
ego mind though that doesn't want us to think about
the end. Often we don't want to think about putting
(08:00):
will together or preparing for our last days. Or if
a loved one starts talking about their will or last wishes,
it's hard to listen to, and we may try to
deflect that. However, one reason I do these episodes is
for all of us, including myself, to be comfortable with
(08:20):
the fact that we're going to depart one day and
it will be okay. You know how you woke up
this morning and it was a brand new day yesterday
and the days before or somewhere in the past. Now,
the same thing will happen when we pass. We'll wake
up in the afterlife, be very excited with those we
(08:42):
are with, feeling young and healthy, being greeted by our
loved ones, our pets, in a world that seems so
similar to earth, but so much better, and our life
here will seem like it was just the dream. For
most people, the dying process is just like when you
snuggle into bed at night and that feeling of sleep
(09:03):
takes you over and the next thing happens you wake up.
Even for those who have traumatic deaths, it is said
that the soul can leave the body and not feel pain.
There are many short stories I'm going to read to
you today. Between each story, you'll hear this chime, letting
(09:25):
you know one story has ended and the next is beginning.
Here's our first story. My sister passed from breast cancer
in twenty and eleven. She fought so hard and didn't
understand it was the end, even two days before she died.
The night before, I was sitting on the chair at
the foot of her bed when she suddenly opened her eyes,
(09:49):
smiled and looked so happy. She said she saw our
dad sitting in the chair and felt so peaceful and
happy that he was with her. Dad had died in
two thousand and five. I knew then and there that
there was so much more to our lives than here
on earth. When my sweet mom was nearing death, I
(10:12):
visited her in hospice early one morning, and she said, oh, Richard,
I've been everywhere. I've seen everyone. I even saw Edgar.
Edgar was her little dog who had recently passed away himself,
leaving her very sad. Luckily, I was able to bring
Edgar to visit her a few days before he passed.
(10:35):
But now I know they are together. My wife passed
away November two, twenty twenty two. One week before. She
told me that her mom and our two dogs, who
are all deceased, were sitting on a bench at the
foot of her bed, just looking at her She asked
(10:55):
her mom, what are you doing here. She thought it
was funny that all she said to her was tell Mike,
that's me, not to worry. On the night before my
grandmother died, she dreamed she was being welcomed by all
the family members who had passed before her, her parents, brothers,
(11:17):
and sisters, et cetera. They were all so happy to
meet again. She told the nurses about the wonderful dream,
and then died a few hours later. I was the
caregiver for my sister the last three months she was
in hospice. She told me she wished I could see
(11:37):
everyone too. It was magnificent. She said. There was a
party for her with balloons and gifts, and everyone was
singing and dancing. She laughed and she called out, Papa, Oh, Papa,
it's so good to see you. She was happy and
never distressed. She died with a smile. My husband's uncle
(12:02):
was in hospice a month before he passed at the
age of eighty one. He told us his mama and
daddy were visiting him, and his mama was cooking gravy
and biscuits, and when she got them done, they were
calling him to come and eat. We all told him
that we loved him and it was okay to go
eat with them. He didn't leave yet because my sister
(12:24):
in law didn't agree. He was hanging on until she
told him it was okay. Finally, it was hard for
her to do so, but she told him what he
needed to do and gave him permission to go eat
biscuits and gravy. He patted her on the hand, exhaled deeply,
and he was gone. Out of all the reasons there
(12:47):
are to believe in the afterlife, for me personally, I
love hearing these stories about loved ones being there for
each one of us and taking us home. There's no
reason to be afraid. No one dies alone. It's time
for our break, and then we'll be back with lots
more short stories from hospice and Heavenly visitors. You're listening
(13:12):
to Shades of the Afterlife on the iHeartRadio and Coast
to Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 4 (13:24):
Keep it here on the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast
AM Paranormal Podcast Network. Sander Champlain will be right back.
Speaker 3 (13:38):
We are happy to announce that our Coast to Coast
AM official YouTube channel has now reached over three hundred
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recent and past shows for free, so head on over
to the Coast to COASTAM dot com website and hit
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(14:02):
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doctr sky.
Speaker 4 (14:23):
Keep it right here on the iHeartRadio and Coast to
Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 3 (14:44):
Welcome back to Shades of the Afterlife. I'm Sandra Champlain
and this episode is filled with short stories of heavenly
visitors that were witnessed through hospice. Here's our next story.
I sat with my friend's mother during her last days.
Although she was asleep for three days, she suddenly sat
(15:06):
up and with a bright smile, she said, Oh, Arthur.
It was so sweet. However, Arthur wasn't her deceased husband's name.
It was the name of her fiancee who died in
combat in World War Two, a fact not learned until
her funeral. When my mom was in hospice, she said
(15:28):
that my dad, uncle Howard, which was her brother, and
her aunt Julie, had come to visit. I said they did.
That's wonderful, Mom, she said, And you know what, we
ate spaghetti and mashed potatoes. She says, isn't that funny?
I said, well, that is funny.
Speaker 2 (15:46):
Mom.
Speaker 3 (15:47):
My mom's brother passed away five weeks before my mom did.
He lived in another state and she was too ill
to see him. I remember how she cried and said
he was supposed to wait for me. After that vision,
I said, Mom, I think you will see him soon
and have more spaghetti and mashed potatoes. The husband of
(16:10):
my best friend of forty five years passed away at home.
I visited him often towards the last few weeks before
he passed. He would kindly tell me which chair to
sit in. I always asked him why, and he said,
you will squish one of my dogs. He had four
(16:30):
dogs in his life that had all passed. He looked
out He named every one of them fondly and said
he had their leashes ready to take them on a walk.
Before this happened, he feared death, But toward the end
and seeing those dogs, he seemed ready and at peace.
(16:51):
Oh how he loved those dogs. My wife of fifty
six years died of Alzheimer's and cancer in two thousand
and eight eighteen. She stopped talking three weeks before her death. However,
six days before she died, she told my son and grandson,
I've got Jesus right here with me, and I'm ready
(17:12):
to go. Those were her last words, and she fell
into a coma and died five days later. This next
story is from the book that I'm reading called Final
Gifts from two hospice Nurses. Martha was in her early sixties,
dying of uterine cancer, which had spread throughout her pelvis.
(17:33):
A widow, she'd lived for many years with her daughter
and family. Martha's experience with unseen people was not very dramatic,
but her reaction was typical. She wasn't at all surprised
or upset by it, and was even able to express
her pleasure at seeing what no one else could see.
Several weeks before she died, Martha said to me, do
(17:56):
you know who the little girl is? Which little girl?
I asked, You know the one who comes to see me?
She said, the one the others can't see. Martha then
described several visitors unseen by others. She knew most of
them by name, her parents and sisters, all of whom
were dead, but couldn't identify a child who appeared with them.
(18:19):
But that didn't bother her. Don't worry, she told me.
I'll figure it out before I go, or I'll find
out when I get there. Have you seen them? No,
I haven't, I said, but I believe that you do.
Are they here now they left a little while ago,
Martha said, they don't stay all the time. They just
come and go. What is it like when they're here,
(18:40):
I asked, Well, sometimes we talk, but usually I just
know that they're here, Martha said. I know that they
love me and that they'll be here with me when
it's time. When it's time, I said, when I die,
Martha said, matter of factly. In most cases, the people
(19:00):
seen our dead relatives or friends. But sometimes people will
tell of seeing an angel or God or some other
religious figure. One man said he'd seen the Lord's face.
Another said there was an angel standing by my bed.
Neither of them, nor any of the other people who
(19:20):
reported seeing these spiritual beings were upset. They were usually
calm as they talked about it, and seemed comforted and
more peaceful in the presence of their invisible visitors. We
wondered if people spoke about spiritual or religious beings because
they were conditioned to expect them by their religious beliefs,
(19:42):
particularly if the person believed in a life after death.
We were also concerned that we might be projecting our
own beliefs and expectations onto these situations. Because of our concerns,
we were particularly interested in the following situation. So here's
the story of Angela. Angela was a delightful musician dying
(20:05):
of melanoma at twenty five. When she entered the hospice
inpatient unit, her parents, three young brothers, and several close
friends seemed to move in with her. Her parents took
turns spending the night in her room. During the day,
a small crowd gathered there. The melanoma had started as
(20:25):
a mole on her arm, then spread. Many of her
more incapacitating symptoms resulted from its effect on her brain.
Her left side was paralyzed, She was blind and too
weak to get out of bed, but Angela still could
speak and was by no means helpless. The day she
(20:47):
was admitted to the unit, she said firmly, I know
about you hospice people. I don't want any of that
spiritual stuff, no prayers, no chaplains. That's not my thing.
I'm an atheist. I don't believe in God or heaven.
The staff respected Angela's position, but her mother found it
(21:08):
very difficult. A devout Catholic, she couldn't accept her daughter's
rejection of God and the faith she'd been raised in.
All the other kids believe in God and go to church,
the mother said, we don't know what happened with Angela.
We raised them all the same, but it never took
with her. One dark, chilly morning, I responded to Angela's
(21:30):
call bell. Her mother had spent the night, and she
stirred on the cot as I pushed open the door. Hi, Angela,
what can I do for you? I said, did someone
come in here to see me? She said, I don't
think so. I didn't see anyone. It's not even don
yet and there's no one around. I said, why do
you ask? I saw an angel? She said. I sat
(21:55):
on the bed. Tell me what happened? I said, when
I woke up, there was an angel sitting in the
light from the window. Angela said, with a smile on
her face. She described feeling very drawn toward this being
who exuded warmth, love, and caring. Her mother jumped off
the cot. Angela, it's a sign from God, she said, Mother,
(22:17):
I don't believe in God, Angela said, now exasperated, that
doesn't matter. Her mother said, you've seen God or at
least a messenger from God. Does it matter who it is?
Angela snapped. Isn't it enough to know that someone so
loving and caring is waiting for me? Angela, what do
you think it means? I asked. I don't believe in
(22:40):
angels or God, but someone was here with me. Whoever
it was, loves me and I know is waiting for me,
So it means I won't die alone, she said, the
smile returning to her face. Her mother's eyes filled with
tears and she put her arms around her daughter. Darling,
(23:00):
it doesn't matter who it is, she said, I'm just
so pleased this happened. Later, outside Angela's room, her mother said,
I know it was either God or an angel, and
she insists it can't be you know how stubborn she is.
But what matters most is that this happened. She had
realized her daughter's fear of the loneliness of death was
(23:23):
alleviated by the knowledge of that loving presence waiting for her.
That's from the book Final Gifts, Understanding the special awareness,
needs and Communications of the Dying by hospice nurses Maggie
Klanan and Patricia Kelly. There'll be more stories from the
book before we're done today. Here's our next story. My
(23:47):
mother was dying of cancer and she said she saw
her dad, who died three years prior. When my grandmother
was dying. I saw her looking at the ceiling from
one side to the other side with her eyes open
wide and smiling. She asked me, do you see those angels?
I said no. She blinked and kept looking and kept
(24:10):
asking me if I saw the angels. It was very
comforting that she saw the angels before she passed. My
grandmother and relatives were telling me about my granddad talking
to three angels weeks up to his death. As time
went on, there were just two angels, and during his
(24:31):
last day in the hospital, the nurses were watching him
speak and say to one of them, I will see
you soon. He told my grandmother that there was only
one angel left now. However, my granddad had told my
grandmother that the angel who was at the end of
his bed is going to leave soon and is going
(24:52):
to take him with them, and the angel said that
it is time for everyone to come and say goodbye.
Everyone came to the hospital, and within minutes of the
last person entering the room, he said that the angel
said it is time, and Grandad died peacefully. My mom
(25:13):
passed away earlier this year. She was at the end
of a terrible battle with cancer. She couldn't speak anymore
and could only moan sometimes, but there were a few
times close to the end that she'd look to the
window with her hands raised towards it, and she'd call
out for her dad, who passed twenty nine years ago.
(25:35):
She'd call clearly Papa a few times, A Pa means Papa.
I was at the bedside of my mother when she passed.
At first her eyes were glazed over, and then all
of a sudden, she looked up to the right, then
to the left, then focused on something. We all looked
(25:57):
as well to see what she was looking at. Her
eyes gradually followed whatever it was down to the foot
of her bed, then to her right side. She reached
out her hand, smiled, and then she passed. My favorite
quote is from author Richard bach don't be dismayed at goodbyes.
A farewell is necessary before we may meet again, but
(26:21):
meeting again after moments or lifetimes is certain for those
who are friends. That always makes me smile and makes
me know that whoever we love while we're here on earth,
we will see them again. And don't be surprised if
they're your heavenly visitor here to take you to your
(26:43):
real home. Let's go to the break and we'll be
back with more stories. You're listening to Shades of the
Afterlife on the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM Paranormal
Podcast Network.
Speaker 4 (27:03):
Don't go anywhere.
Speaker 2 (27:04):
There's more Shades of the Afterlife coming right up. The
best afterlife information you can get.
Speaker 3 (27:15):
Well, you're a long Shades of the Afterlife with Sander Champlain.
Speaker 4 (27:24):
Hi, this is ufologist Kevin Randall and you're listening to
the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 3 (27:47):
Welcome back to Shades of the Afterlife. I'm Sander Champlain.
We will continue with stories from hospice. Here's a story
from Tracy. She says, I'm a hospice nurse, but this
story is about my own father. He passed away suddenly
at the age of sixty three, thirty two years ago.
(28:07):
Because I'm a nurse, I wanted to dress him for
his week and make sure everything was perfect. He was
always a well dressed man. So after I convinced the
funeral director that I would be just fine fussing with
his suit, shoes, et cetera, the funeral director left me
alone in the room. Soon I became aware of a
(28:29):
maintenance man sweeping slowly in the back of the room.
At the time, I thought, how sweet they are just
making sure I am okay. After I finished making sure
Dad's shoes were polished and that he had change in
his pocket. He always had to have change, I kissed
him goodbye and went to thank the director. I also
(28:52):
thanked him for the maintenance man in the room because
he did make me feel more at ease. He looked
at his mortician and then said, there was nobody here
but us. Here's the kicker. My dad always told us
kids that no matter what, even if you chose to
be a broom pusher, be the best damn broom pusher
(29:15):
that ever was. I believe who I saw was my
Dad's spirit pushing that broom in the room with me.
I do believe in miracles. I was a hospice nurse
for fifteen years. Hospice is a journey. Some patients saw
their loved ones who had passed on. One lady lost
(29:38):
all of her five children in a fire. Just before
she died, she told her husband that all of their
children were standing at the end of her bed and
that she had to go and be with them. She
smiled and then took her last breath. When my father
died in nineteen ninety, he had suffered for years from
(30:02):
complications of diabetes. By the end of his days, he
was blind, had both legs amputated, underwent hemo dialysis, and
had not spoken for months. At lunchtime on a Thursday,
my mother and I were home when he suddenly began
to cry and call my name. Arriving at his bed,
(30:24):
he said to me, they are calling me to go
with them because this body no longer fits. So I
asked Dad, who are they? And he said my mother
and my father. Those were my grandparents he was looking at,
who died several decades before. The next day, my father died.
(30:48):
I was a volunteer helper for hospice. I would go
to the homes of patients and give the families some
relief to run their errands, take a break, etc. While
I watched their loved one. One case involved a ninety
year old man very close to death. While sitting with him,
he suddenly bolted upright, looked around his bed and said
(31:12):
to me, with his eyes bright and shining, they're all here.
They tell me the party is going on, and they
came to get me. He started calling out names of men,
interspersing them with loud cowboy type woos. Then he finally
fell silent, eyes closed, and he had the biggest smile
(31:35):
on his face. I had written down all that he
had said at the request of his son. Later, when
the sun returned, he told me that the names were
his father's best friends, fellow cowboys that had worked on
a cattle ranch out west for years. They had all
passed away. I can't tell you how much joy it
(31:58):
gave the sun to think that his father's friends had
come for him to take him to the cowboy party.
One of my grandmothers died in hospice after a brief illness.
Her daughter and her daughter's husband, aunt and uncle were
with her as much as possible. My grandma looked up
(32:21):
toward a corner of the room and had a beautiful
smile on her face. My aunt asked her what she
was looking at, and my grandma said, I see Jesus
and my whole family. My grandma was the youngest of
seven children, and she was the last one in her
family to die. My aunt and I were very close,
(32:46):
and she dreamt often of deceased family members who were
around her. In her final dream, she saw a tall,
dark haired, handsome man stand up strong amongst them. She
needed no words, she knew it was my son who
passed away this year. He was no longer in his wheelchair.
(33:08):
He was completely healed. I remember a patient who was
never very talkative, and it was very difficult to get
even a smile out of him. Not because he was
in pain or seriously ill, that was just his style.
One day, he was looking up towards the ceiling and
he was smiling his head off. He looked so happy.
(33:31):
I asked him if he was okay. He barely moved
his head, but he said yes. I went into the
supply room only for a brief moment, and when I
came out, he had died. But I will always remember
the sheer look of joy on his face. I believe
he was seeing something or someone which made him so happy.
(33:58):
Four days before my eighty nine year old father passed away,
I saw him raise his right hand and say, I'm coming, Mom.
Be patient, I'll be there soon. I'll be there in
four days. And four days later he passed. My father
really loved his mother, and it gave me great comfort
(34:19):
knowing that she was there to greet him. I had
a patient who was actively dying. As her nurse, I
stayed by her side and comforted her as much as
I could. After about twenty minutes, she began to wave
towards the corner of the room. She had this big
(34:40):
smile with glow and joy. She grabbed my hand and said, look,
say hello to my mom. She began reaching her arms
out to the empty corner of the room. She died
within the hour. My grandmother had a massive heart attack.
She was dead for a few moments before being revived
(35:03):
A few weeks later. When she was finally able to speak,
she told us she saw her deceased parents, her brothers,
her sisters, her first husband, and her friends all sitting
around a big card table playing poker. They turned to
her and they told her they couldn't deal her in yet.
(35:26):
When my best friend was dying of cancer, she was
putting up a good fight. She didn't want to die.
She was still a young sixty years old. The day
before her body gave out, she became at peace. She
stopped fighting and said, I love you all, but my
dad's here and I'm going to go with him. The
(35:48):
last words my father said before his death were I
have to go now. My parents are here sitting next
to me on the bed, and they want to take
me somewhere very peaceful and relaxed. And then he died.
My dad was in hospice back in nineteen ninety four
(36:10):
and was in a comatose state for a few weeks
before he passed away. On the day that he passed,
he was holding his arm up toward the corner of
the ceiling and I thought he was waking up. I
called out to him, but he never responded. He smiled
and spoke in a very soft voice to whoever it
(36:30):
was he was seeing before his arm dropped, and then
twenty five minutes later he passed away. Then two months
later he came to me in a dream, telling me
how light he felt. He was flapping his arms like
a chicken flaps their wings. He said he felt very
light and it was just wonderful. He also stated that
(36:55):
he never had time to tell me that he left
five thousand dollars and his top dresser drawer in his
room for me and my wife and two small children.
At the time. I woke up and told my wife
about the dream with my dad. Then I told her
about the money he said he left for us. So
(37:15):
we both got out of bed and went into his
room and opened his top dresser drawer. I took out
all of the papers in the books, and at the
bottom of the drawer was a white envelope with our
names on it. I opened the envelope and counted out
exactly five thousand dollars in cash. Needless to say, I
(37:41):
nearly passed out. And ever since that day, I have
had a fascination with life after death. I know for
a fact life goes on. My mom just passed away
in her sleep at the age of ninety one, and
I took care of her for about two twenty years
after her health started failing. The things that have happened
(38:04):
after she passed are amazing too. Life definitely does go on,
and I look forward to one day seeing my mom
and dad again. I worked as an oncology nurse at
a children's hospital in the nineties. One night I was
caring for a twelve year old girl who was dying
(38:26):
from leukemia. She was there alone, and it was a
very peaceful night. She slept most of it. Her parents
were not there. At one point during the night, she
woke up and asked me, where did the man go?
And I said, what man? And she said, the man
that's been sitting in that rocking chair next to her bed.
(38:47):
Our unit was locked at night, and we knew everyone
who was on that floor, and there was no man
that was visible that sat in that chair next to
her that night. She died peacefully the next morning. To
this day, I know it was someone from heaven coming
to take her home. Before passing, my father had vivid
(39:12):
dreams of his hometown in Sicily. He could recall everyone's names,
the shops and said it was so clear and that
he could remember everything. Dad was eighty when he passed
and hadn't been back to Sicily since he left at
the age of seventeen. I should have realized that this
(39:33):
was a sign of his soon to be passing. My
sister passed twelve months later and said that Dad was
at the hospital with her just before she died. It's
time to go to our last break and then we'll
be back with more stories. You're listening to Shades of
the Afterlife on the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast a
(39:57):
M Paranormal Podcast Network. Stay there, Sandra will be right back.
Speaker 4 (40:14):
Hey, it's the Wizard of Weird Joshua P. Warren. Don't
forget to check out my show Strange Things each week
as I bring you the world of the truly amazing
and bizarre right here on the iHeartRadio and Coast to
Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 3 (40:36):
This is Afterlife Expert Daniel Braakley, and you're listening to
the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM Paronormal Podcast Network.
(41:00):
Welcome back to Shades of the Afterlife. I'm Sandra Champlain.
We never know how our life is going to play out,
or the lives of our loved ones, but hearing these
stories gives so much confidence that no one dies alone,
that there's a bigger plan. That we're greeted that there's
(41:20):
parties and that people will take us home. I'd like
to continue our story time with some stories from the
new books that I'm reading called Final Gifts, written by
two hospice nurses. They say, sometimes a family decides to
withhold information about the death of someone. The dying person
(41:42):
knows this impulse is to spare someone emotional pain, but
the truth often brings peace, not discomfort. This is the
story of Sue, a dignified Chinese woman. Sue was getting
devoted care from her daughter Lily. Both were Buddhists and
(42:02):
very accepting of the mother's terminal status. I've had a
good life for ninety three years, she said, and I've
been on earth long enough. She dreamed of her husband,
who had died many years before. I will join him soon,
she said. But one day, Sue seemed very puzzled. Why
(42:24):
is my sister with my husband? She asked, They are
both calling me to come. Is your sister dead, I asked, No,
she still lives in China, she said, I've not seen
her for many years. When I related this conversation to
the daughter, she was astonished and tearful. My aunt died
(42:45):
two days ago in China. Lily said, we decided not
to tell mother that her sister had the same kind
of cancer. It was a very painful death. She lived
in a remote village where good medical care wasn't available.
We didn't want to upset or frighten mother since she
was so sick herself. What do you think about your
(43:08):
mother's questioning why she is being called to come by
both her sister and your father, I asked. Mother tells
me that my father's been calling her to be with
him for the past week. Lily said, it gives me
comfort to know they will be together in the next life,
So I guess her sister is waiting there for her. Also,
(43:30):
Lily said, after much thought, do you think the news
of her sister's death will upset your mother? No, I
guess not. They loved each other a great deal, so
it'll be wonderful for them to be all together again.
I guess I should tell her the truth. When Lily
tearfully told her mother about her sister's illness and death,
Sue said, with a knowing smile, Now I understand her
(43:54):
puzzle was solved. She died three weeks later, at peace
and with a se anticipation. The Companionship and support these
presences provide for a person about to die is evident,
but some terminally ill people have these experiences months before
their deaths and benefit in a similar way over a
(44:17):
longer period of time. We don't just see people when
we pass. Sometimes, like the man seeing Cecily, get transported
back to places in the past. Here's the story of Lucy.
Near Dawn, a patient's daughter telephoned mother says she's been
(44:38):
out of her body and has been somewhere else, but
now she's back and keeps wanting to tell me about it.
Ellie said, in a tight, breathless voice, would you please
come over? How is she now? I asked. She says
she's fine, Ellie said, Does she seem any different to you? No,
she's the same as always, except for the story of
(44:58):
leaving her body. Is she upset by having left her body? No,
she's fine, feeling quite comfortable and asking for a cup
of coffee. I told Ellie to make the coffee and
i'd be right over. When I arrived, Ellie looked shaken.
Her mother, though, was serene. How are you doing, I asked, Lucy.
(45:18):
I was just telling Ellie that I went out of
here and left this old body behind for a while.
Lucy said, where did you go? I asked, back to
the old farm in Pennsylvania where I grew up. She said,
The kitchen looked the same, and the view across the
fields where the cows used to be was so fresh
(45:39):
and green. Lucy talked at length about the old farmhouse,
how she'd lived in it until she was nearly twenty,
and then she'd continue to visit until the death of
her uncle, who owned it. After it was sold, she
hadn't returned. In her opinion, she'd been transported to a
place she particularly loved. What do you think this means,
(46:01):
I asked Lucy. Oh, I don't know. I guess I
just wanted to see it again. In describing her out
of body experience, Lucy gave many specific details, but sometimes
they only refer to a light. Here's Emma's story. Emma fifty,
(46:22):
had a husband and two children in their early twenties.
When I asked Emma what she missed most because of
the limitations of her illness, she replied, entertaining I love
to give parties and cook wonderful food for my family
and friends. Her husband reported that many friends brought food
to them now, always hoping to send just the right
(46:45):
thing to tempt Emma's disappearing appetite. So Emma knew that
her family was still eating well, despite the fact that
she could no longer cook for them, But it was
the joy of sharing her creative cooking with the people
she loved that she missed so much. Her daughter was
about to graduate from college, and Emma spoke often about
(47:07):
how she looked forward to seeing her daughter and a
cap and gown. She's the first college graduate in the family,
she said proudly. As her illness progressed, Emma spent more
time in bed. About a month before she died, I
visited and found her propped up on pillows, staring into
space with a dreamy look in her eyes. She was
(47:30):
smiling peacefully. What's happening, Emma, I asked, there's that beautiful light,
she whispered softly. Despite my gentle questioning, she continued to
smile dreamily, but offered no further information. She mentioned the
light two or three times during my next few visits,
(47:52):
never providing details, but continuing to look radiant and peaceful.
She was a strong willed woman who struggled to deal
with her increasing loss of control as she became sicker,
She insisted on continuing to manage her own medicines, despite
the fact that she was sometimes slightly confused. Her family
(48:15):
and nurses were very concerned about her safety and felt
this might be dangerous, yet she could not relinquish this control.
Rather than have a private duty nurse at home, Emma
chose to be admitted into the hospice unit. I visited
her shortly after she was admitted. Oh, if only I
could relax, she complained. What would happen if you relaxed?
(48:38):
I asked, well, that light would come closer again and
I could get to know all those people. For as
flit second, I thought she was referring to her roommates
or the staff on the unit. Unsure, I asked what people.
Emma looked surprised, as if I were asking a rediculous question.
(49:01):
All these people around my bed, of course, she said,
waving her arm to show the size of the crowd
that I couldn't see. You will relax, I reassured her.
This is a safe place to relax and a safe
place to get to know all these people around you.
The beautiful light will come closer and everything will be
(49:24):
all right. The nurse assigned to Emma's care reported that
she was comfortable, but deteriorating, and often appeared busy, preoccupied,
as though giving directions were fussing at people unseen. On
the eve of her daughter's graduation, I visited again and asked,
(49:45):
what's happening, Emma? Well, I have so much to do
with all of these people, and that light just keeps
coming closer, she replied, with a trace of annoyance. Do
you know any of these people? I asked her. Well, yes,
there's my she said, squinting as if to see him better.
I smiled and nodded, knowing that her father had died
(50:06):
less than a year before. Is he waiting for you?
I asked? She looked surprised. For Heaven's sake, Is that
what he's doing? She asked? Emma, when will your work
be done? I continued, Oh, I think probably Sunday, she answered.
I immediately called her family to alert them. The next day,
(50:27):
Emma put on her wig and makeup to prepare for
her daughter's visit after graduation. It was quite a celebration,
with cake, champagne, and lots of family pictures taken The
next morning, Emma again, put on her wig and makeup,
lay back against the pillows with a contented sigh, and
within a few hours had slipped from sleep into a
(50:51):
brief coma. With her family quietly sitting around her. She
peacefully died, just as she had predicted. It was Sunday
and her work was done. If you're interested in hospice
care for yourself, for a loved one, or volunteering, there's
a great website, Hospicefoundation dot org. Many individuals and families
(51:15):
really could benefit from care, but don't know how to
access it. Some people are afraid to discuss it, some
wait for a physician to suggest it, and some people
don't know. You can initiate hospice care on your own.
Remember that hospice does not extend or shorten life expectancy,
but seeks to improve the quality of time that is
(51:36):
left and manage pain. If you think hospice may be
the right choice for you or a family member, here's
how to proceed. Number one, start the conversation. Discuss it
with your healthcare provider. Number two, get recommendations, do some
searching in your area, ask family or friends. Even if
(51:57):
your physician doesn't agree that hospice this is the right choice.
You can contact a local hospice directly for help with
a referral next visit and assess the providers. You can
request a no cost, no obligation visit by the hospice providers.
They will send a clinician to your home, or you
(52:18):
could visit the hospice facility and get your questions answered.
My father spent some time in hospice managing his pain medication.
The facility was bright and happy. The staff couldn't have
been any greater. Little did I know then that that
experience would have me recommending hospice to you. Now, certainly
(52:41):
that's the route I'm going to go. Well, our time
together has come to an end. Please remember to come
visit me at We Don'tdie dot com, Come to a
free Sunday gathering, join one of our medium classes, or
other events. I'm Sandra Champlain. Thank you so much for
listen listening to Shades of the Afterlife on the iHeartRadio
(53:04):
and Coast to Coast am Heirinormal podcast Network.
Speaker 1 (53:15):
And if you like this episode of Shades of the Afterlife,
wait until you hear the next one. Thank you for
listening to the iHeartRadio and coast to coast AM Paranormal
Podcast Network,
Welcome to the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM paranormal
podcast network. This is the place to be if you're
ready for the best podcasts of the paranormal, curious.
Speaker 2 (00:15):
And sometimes unexplained. Now listen to this.
Speaker 3 (00:25):
Welcome to our podcast. Please be aware the thoughts and
opinions expressed by the host are their thoughts and opinions
only and do not reflect those of iHeartMedia, iHeartRadio, Coast
to Coast AM, employees of premier networks, or their sponsors
and associates. We would like to encourage you to do
(00:45):
your own research and discover the subject matter for yourself. Hi.
I'm Sandra Champlain. For over twenty five years, I've been
on a journey to prove the existence of life after death.
On each episode, we'll discuss the reasons we now know
(01:08):
that our loved ones have survived physical death, and so
will we. Welcome to Shades of the Afterlife. Today, we're
going to honor all those kind hearted people who work
or volunteer with hospice. We're going to hear many stories
today of heavenly visitors who appear to the dying while
(01:29):
under hospice care, giving hope and comfort. To all that
no one dies alone and that we are indeed all
escorted into the afterlife with love. Also a special shout
out and words of acknowledgment to those of you Shades
of the Afterlife listeners who were so moved by prior
(01:50):
episodes that you have taken on volunteering with Hospice. Many
people have told me that one sure way to get
over the fear of dying and to know the reality
of the afterlife is to be part of hospice. So
thank you all of you who donate your time and
those who may just be inspired to do so after
(02:12):
this episode. Unfortunately, so many people die alone, and those
loving souls that work and volunteer with hospice really do
give people the very best care right up unto the
end of this physical existence. Cicily Saunders, who was born
back in nineteen eighteen, founded the first modern hospice and
(02:37):
more than anybody else, was responsible for establishing the discipline
and the culture of palliative care. She introduced effective pain
management and insisted that dying people need dignity, compassion and respect.
Saint Christopher's Hospice opened in the southwest of London back
(02:58):
in nineteen sixty seven. It is now one of many,
but it is still the leader in the field. It
was her personal achievement that has now been imitated all
over the world. As of twenty twenty three, there are
over eighty eight hundred hospices and palliative care centers in
the US alone, with at least another eighty five hundred
(03:22):
in one hundred and twenty five countries around the world.
Hospice provides the best possible quality of life for not
only patients, but families of those with six or less
months to live. Sicily Saunders introduced the idea of total
pain management, which includes physical, emotional, social, and spiritual dimensions
(03:45):
of distress, and hospice will do everything possible to have
the patient pain free, whether they live their final days
in a hospice care facility or in their own home.
I'd like to especially mention and the YouTube channels of
hospice nurse Julie the end Well Project, and hospice doctor
(04:06):
Christopher Kerr, author of Death Is But a Dream. The
current book I am reading is called Final Gifts Understanding
the Special Awareness, Needs and Communications of the Dying by
hospice nurses Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelly. To find more
of my past episodes about these heavenly visitors that appear
(04:29):
by the bedside, please refer back to Shades of the
Afterlife episodes seven forty one, one twenty two, and one
fifty four. Before we get into our stories today, let's
hear a few words from doctor Christopher Kerr.
Speaker 2 (04:47):
In times of illness, we are drawn closer to those
in need an endure tragedy through gestures of compassion and concern.
The global calamity of COVID nineteen has not just brought death,
It is also operated us from each other and from
those we love. As a hospice physician who spend decades
at the bedside of dying patients, I have come to
(05:08):
realize that no matter how physically alone patients are, few
of them die alone. End of life is more than
a medical endeavor. Dying is more than the physical manifestations
we observe. When medicine can no longer defy illness, nature
assumes its rightful place, and dying becomes what has always
been a human experience. Is not just the closing of
(05:30):
a life, but a meaningful vantage point that draws people
inward towards the end of life, people often recall the
best parts of living. For some, this occurs consciously through conversations.
For others, it comes unconsciously through dreams. The dying process
is about progressively deeper sleep and alternating levels of alertness.
(05:52):
These states are not moments of confusion or delirium, and
our studies that dying describe them as comforting subjective experiences
that bring and clarity and insight and a peaceful end
of life. These experiences include vivid dreams. At end of life,
people rarely share existential insights or exuberant pronouncements. They don't
have epiphanies. Instead, they talk of love in a way
(06:15):
that restores their sense of connectiveness of being made whole.
Elderly patients experience the return of the mother or father
they lost in childhood. Women cradle babies long loss to
their touch. They visualize a world where their best relationships
define their purpose and their true accomplishments. As a doctor,
I do not need to be able to explain these
(06:36):
end of life experiences to my patients, nor interfere medically.
I've learned to show reverence for the strength of the
human spirit in its endless quest to heal what is harmed
or broken. While we may envision ventilators and ivs, the
dying often experience love, presence, and even touch of predeceased
loved ones. They revisit the memories of being held and cherished.
(06:58):
The culmination of a life, rather than its demise. The
dying teach us that the best parts of having lived
are never truly lost. A lesson seems clear. The totality
of our human experience can never be defined or reduced
by its last moments.
Speaker 3 (07:14):
You can find out more about doctor Kerr at doctor
Christopher Kerr dot com, spell it Dr Christopher Karr dot com.
I know for me it's exciting to hear after life stories,
near death experience stories, deathbed visitation stories. They're all great
(07:37):
that help us believe. But am I ready to die?
Do I want to die? The answer is no. I
think it's part of being human for us to want
to live as long as possible. We each have that
ego mind though that doesn't want us to think about
the end. Often we don't want to think about putting
(08:00):
will together or preparing for our last days. Or if
a loved one starts talking about their will or last wishes,
it's hard to listen to, and we may try to
deflect that. However, one reason I do these episodes is
for all of us, including myself, to be comfortable with
(08:20):
the fact that we're going to depart one day and
it will be okay. You know how you woke up
this morning and it was a brand new day yesterday
and the days before or somewhere in the past. Now,
the same thing will happen when we pass. We'll wake
up in the afterlife, be very excited with those we
(08:42):
are with, feeling young and healthy, being greeted by our
loved ones, our pets, in a world that seems so
similar to earth, but so much better, and our life
here will seem like it was just the dream. For
most people, the dying process is just like when you
snuggle into bed at night and that feeling of sleep
(09:03):
takes you over and the next thing happens you wake up.
Even for those who have traumatic deaths, it is said
that the soul can leave the body and not feel pain.
There are many short stories I'm going to read to
you today. Between each story, you'll hear this chime, letting
(09:25):
you know one story has ended and the next is beginning.
Here's our first story. My sister passed from breast cancer
in twenty and eleven. She fought so hard and didn't
understand it was the end, even two days before she died.
The night before, I was sitting on the chair at
the foot of her bed when she suddenly opened her eyes,
(09:49):
smiled and looked so happy. She said she saw our
dad sitting in the chair and felt so peaceful and
happy that he was with her. Dad had died in
two thousand and five. I knew then and there that
there was so much more to our lives than here
on earth. When my sweet mom was nearing death, I
(10:12):
visited her in hospice early one morning, and she said, oh, Richard,
I've been everywhere. I've seen everyone. I even saw Edgar.
Edgar was her little dog who had recently passed away himself,
leaving her very sad. Luckily, I was able to bring
Edgar to visit her a few days before he passed.
(10:35):
But now I know they are together. My wife passed
away November two, twenty twenty two. One week before. She
told me that her mom and our two dogs, who
are all deceased, were sitting on a bench at the
foot of her bed, just looking at her She asked
(10:55):
her mom, what are you doing here. She thought it
was funny that all she said to her was tell Mike,
that's me, not to worry. On the night before my
grandmother died, she dreamed she was being welcomed by all
the family members who had passed before her, her parents, brothers,
(11:17):
and sisters, et cetera. They were all so happy to
meet again. She told the nurses about the wonderful dream,
and then died a few hours later. I was the
caregiver for my sister the last three months she was
in hospice. She told me she wished I could see
(11:37):
everyone too. It was magnificent. She said. There was a
party for her with balloons and gifts, and everyone was
singing and dancing. She laughed and she called out, Papa, Oh, Papa,
it's so good to see you. She was happy and
never distressed. She died with a smile. My husband's uncle
(12:02):
was in hospice a month before he passed at the
age of eighty one. He told us his mama and
daddy were visiting him, and his mama was cooking gravy
and biscuits, and when she got them done, they were
calling him to come and eat. We all told him
that we loved him and it was okay to go
eat with them. He didn't leave yet because my sister
(12:24):
in law didn't agree. He was hanging on until she
told him it was okay. Finally, it was hard for
her to do so, but she told him what he
needed to do and gave him permission to go eat
biscuits and gravy. He patted her on the hand, exhaled deeply,
and he was gone. Out of all the reasons there
(12:47):
are to believe in the afterlife, for me personally, I
love hearing these stories about loved ones being there for
each one of us and taking us home. There's no
reason to be afraid. No one dies alone. It's time
for our break, and then we'll be back with lots
more short stories from hospice and Heavenly visitors. You're listening
(13:12):
to Shades of the Afterlife on the iHeartRadio and Coast
to Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 4 (13:24):
Keep it here on the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast
AM Paranormal Podcast Network. Sander Champlain will be right back.
Speaker 3 (13:38):
We are happy to announce that our Coast to Coast
AM official YouTube channel has now reached over three hundred
thousand subscribers. You can listen to the first hour of
recent and past shows for free, so head on over
to the Coast to COASTAM dot com website and hit
the YouTube icon at the top of the page. This
(14:02):
is free show audio, so don't wait. Coast to COASTAM
dot com is where you want to be. Hi, it's
doctr sky.
Speaker 4 (14:23):
Keep it right here on the iHeartRadio and Coast to
Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 3 (14:44):
Welcome back to Shades of the Afterlife. I'm Sandra Champlain
and this episode is filled with short stories of heavenly
visitors that were witnessed through hospice. Here's our next story.
I sat with my friend's mother during her last days.
Although she was asleep for three days, she suddenly sat
(15:06):
up and with a bright smile, she said, Oh, Arthur.
It was so sweet. However, Arthur wasn't her deceased husband's name.
It was the name of her fiancee who died in
combat in World War Two, a fact not learned until
her funeral. When my mom was in hospice, she said
(15:28):
that my dad, uncle Howard, which was her brother, and
her aunt Julie, had come to visit. I said they did.
That's wonderful, Mom, she said, And you know what, we
ate spaghetti and mashed potatoes. She says, isn't that funny?
I said, well, that is funny.
Speaker 2 (15:46):
Mom.
Speaker 3 (15:47):
My mom's brother passed away five weeks before my mom did.
He lived in another state and she was too ill
to see him. I remember how she cried and said
he was supposed to wait for me. After that vision,
I said, Mom, I think you will see him soon
and have more spaghetti and mashed potatoes. The husband of
(16:10):
my best friend of forty five years passed away at home.
I visited him often towards the last few weeks before
he passed. He would kindly tell me which chair to
sit in. I always asked him why, and he said,
you will squish one of my dogs. He had four
(16:30):
dogs in his life that had all passed. He looked
out He named every one of them fondly and said
he had their leashes ready to take them on a walk.
Before this happened, he feared death, But toward the end
and seeing those dogs, he seemed ready and at peace.
(16:51):
Oh how he loved those dogs. My wife of fifty
six years died of Alzheimer's and cancer in two thousand
and eight eighteen. She stopped talking three weeks before her death. However,
six days before she died, she told my son and grandson,
I've got Jesus right here with me, and I'm ready
(17:12):
to go. Those were her last words, and she fell
into a coma and died five days later. This next
story is from the book that I'm reading called Final
Gifts from two hospice Nurses. Martha was in her early sixties,
dying of uterine cancer, which had spread throughout her pelvis.
(17:33):
A widow, she'd lived for many years with her daughter
and family. Martha's experience with unseen people was not very dramatic,
but her reaction was typical. She wasn't at all surprised
or upset by it, and was even able to express
her pleasure at seeing what no one else could see.
Several weeks before she died, Martha said to me, do
(17:56):
you know who the little girl is? Which little girl?
I asked, You know the one who comes to see me?
She said, the one the others can't see. Martha then
described several visitors unseen by others. She knew most of
them by name, her parents and sisters, all of whom
were dead, but couldn't identify a child who appeared with them.
(18:19):
But that didn't bother her. Don't worry, she told me.
I'll figure it out before I go, or I'll find
out when I get there. Have you seen them? No,
I haven't, I said, but I believe that you do.
Are they here now they left a little while ago,
Martha said, they don't stay all the time. They just
come and go. What is it like when they're here,
(18:40):
I asked, Well, sometimes we talk, but usually I just
know that they're here, Martha said. I know that they
love me and that they'll be here with me when
it's time. When it's time, I said, when I die,
Martha said, matter of factly. In most cases, the people
(19:00):
seen our dead relatives or friends. But sometimes people will
tell of seeing an angel or God or some other
religious figure. One man said he'd seen the Lord's face.
Another said there was an angel standing by my bed.
Neither of them, nor any of the other people who
(19:20):
reported seeing these spiritual beings were upset. They were usually
calm as they talked about it, and seemed comforted and
more peaceful in the presence of their invisible visitors. We
wondered if people spoke about spiritual or religious beings because
they were conditioned to expect them by their religious beliefs,
(19:42):
particularly if the person believed in a life after death.
We were also concerned that we might be projecting our
own beliefs and expectations onto these situations. Because of our concerns,
we were particularly interested in the following situation. So here's
the story of Angela. Angela was a delightful musician dying
(20:05):
of melanoma at twenty five. When she entered the hospice
inpatient unit, her parents, three young brothers, and several close
friends seemed to move in with her. Her parents took
turns spending the night in her room. During the day,
a small crowd gathered there. The melanoma had started as
(20:25):
a mole on her arm, then spread. Many of her
more incapacitating symptoms resulted from its effect on her brain.
Her left side was paralyzed, She was blind and too
weak to get out of bed, but Angela still could
speak and was by no means helpless. The day she
(20:47):
was admitted to the unit, she said firmly, I know
about you hospice people. I don't want any of that
spiritual stuff, no prayers, no chaplains. That's not my thing.
I'm an atheist. I don't believe in God or heaven.
The staff respected Angela's position, but her mother found it
(21:08):
very difficult. A devout Catholic, she couldn't accept her daughter's
rejection of God and the faith she'd been raised in.
All the other kids believe in God and go to church,
the mother said, we don't know what happened with Angela.
We raised them all the same, but it never took
with her. One dark, chilly morning, I responded to Angela's
(21:30):
call bell. Her mother had spent the night, and she
stirred on the cot as I pushed open the door. Hi, Angela,
what can I do for you? I said, did someone
come in here to see me? She said, I don't
think so. I didn't see anyone. It's not even don
yet and there's no one around. I said, why do
you ask? I saw an angel? She said. I sat
(21:55):
on the bed. Tell me what happened? I said, when
I woke up, there was an angel sitting in the
light from the window. Angela said, with a smile on
her face. She described feeling very drawn toward this being
who exuded warmth, love, and caring. Her mother jumped off
the cot. Angela, it's a sign from God, she said, Mother,
(22:17):
I don't believe in God, Angela said, now exasperated, that
doesn't matter. Her mother said, you've seen God or at
least a messenger from God. Does it matter who it is?
Angela snapped. Isn't it enough to know that someone so
loving and caring is waiting for me? Angela, what do
you think it means? I asked. I don't believe in
(22:40):
angels or God, but someone was here with me. Whoever
it was, loves me and I know is waiting for me,
So it means I won't die alone, she said, the
smile returning to her face. Her mother's eyes filled with
tears and she put her arms around her daughter. Darling,
(23:00):
it doesn't matter who it is, she said, I'm just
so pleased this happened. Later, outside Angela's room, her mother said,
I know it was either God or an angel, and
she insists it can't be you know how stubborn she is.
But what matters most is that this happened. She had
realized her daughter's fear of the loneliness of death was
(23:23):
alleviated by the knowledge of that loving presence waiting for her.
That's from the book Final Gifts, Understanding the special awareness,
needs and Communications of the Dying by hospice nurses Maggie
Klanan and Patricia Kelly. There'll be more stories from the
book before we're done today. Here's our next story. My
(23:47):
mother was dying of cancer and she said she saw
her dad, who died three years prior. When my grandmother
was dying. I saw her looking at the ceiling from
one side to the other side with her eyes open
wide and smiling. She asked me, do you see those angels?
I said no. She blinked and kept looking and kept
(24:10):
asking me if I saw the angels. It was very
comforting that she saw the angels before she passed. My
grandmother and relatives were telling me about my granddad talking
to three angels weeks up to his death. As time
went on, there were just two angels, and during his
(24:31):
last day in the hospital, the nurses were watching him
speak and say to one of them, I will see
you soon. He told my grandmother that there was only
one angel left now. However, my granddad had told my
grandmother that the angel who was at the end of
his bed is going to leave soon and is going
(24:52):
to take him with them, and the angel said that
it is time for everyone to come and say goodbye.
Everyone came to the hospital, and within minutes of the
last person entering the room, he said that the angel
said it is time, and Grandad died peacefully. My mom
(25:13):
passed away earlier this year. She was at the end
of a terrible battle with cancer. She couldn't speak anymore
and could only moan sometimes, but there were a few
times close to the end that she'd look to the
window with her hands raised towards it, and she'd call
out for her dad, who passed twenty nine years ago.
(25:35):
She'd call clearly Papa a few times, A Pa means Papa.
I was at the bedside of my mother when she passed.
At first her eyes were glazed over, and then all
of a sudden, she looked up to the right, then
to the left, then focused on something. We all looked
(25:57):
as well to see what she was looking at. Her
eyes gradually followed whatever it was down to the foot
of her bed, then to her right side. She reached
out her hand, smiled, and then she passed. My favorite
quote is from author Richard bach don't be dismayed at goodbyes.
A farewell is necessary before we may meet again, but
(26:21):
meeting again after moments or lifetimes is certain for those
who are friends. That always makes me smile and makes
me know that whoever we love while we're here on earth,
we will see them again. And don't be surprised if
they're your heavenly visitor here to take you to your
(26:43):
real home. Let's go to the break and we'll be
back with more stories. You're listening to Shades of the
Afterlife on the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM Paranormal
Podcast Network.
Speaker 4 (27:03):
Don't go anywhere.
Speaker 2 (27:04):
There's more Shades of the Afterlife coming right up. The
best afterlife information you can get.
Speaker 3 (27:15):
Well, you're a long Shades of the Afterlife with Sander Champlain.
Speaker 4 (27:24):
Hi, this is ufologist Kevin Randall and you're listening to
the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 3 (27:47):
Welcome back to Shades of the Afterlife. I'm Sander Champlain.
We will continue with stories from hospice. Here's a story
from Tracy. She says, I'm a hospice nurse, but this
story is about my own father. He passed away suddenly
at the age of sixty three, thirty two years ago.
(28:07):
Because I'm a nurse, I wanted to dress him for
his week and make sure everything was perfect. He was
always a well dressed man. So after I convinced the
funeral director that I would be just fine fussing with
his suit, shoes, et cetera, the funeral director left me
alone in the room. Soon I became aware of a
(28:29):
maintenance man sweeping slowly in the back of the room.
At the time, I thought, how sweet they are just
making sure I am okay. After I finished making sure
Dad's shoes were polished and that he had change in
his pocket. He always had to have change, I kissed
him goodbye and went to thank the director. I also
(28:52):
thanked him for the maintenance man in the room because
he did make me feel more at ease. He looked
at his mortician and then said, there was nobody here
but us. Here's the kicker. My dad always told us
kids that no matter what, even if you chose to
be a broom pusher, be the best damn broom pusher
(29:15):
that ever was. I believe who I saw was my
Dad's spirit pushing that broom in the room with me.
I do believe in miracles. I was a hospice nurse
for fifteen years. Hospice is a journey. Some patients saw
their loved ones who had passed on. One lady lost
(29:38):
all of her five children in a fire. Just before
she died, she told her husband that all of their
children were standing at the end of her bed and
that she had to go and be with them. She
smiled and then took her last breath. When my father
died in nineteen ninety, he had suffered for years from
(30:02):
complications of diabetes. By the end of his days, he
was blind, had both legs amputated, underwent hemo dialysis, and
had not spoken for months. At lunchtime on a Thursday,
my mother and I were home when he suddenly began
to cry and call my name. Arriving at his bed,
(30:24):
he said to me, they are calling me to go
with them because this body no longer fits. So I
asked Dad, who are they? And he said my mother
and my father. Those were my grandparents he was looking at,
who died several decades before. The next day, my father died.
(30:48):
I was a volunteer helper for hospice. I would go
to the homes of patients and give the families some
relief to run their errands, take a break, etc. While
I watched their loved one. One case involved a ninety
year old man very close to death. While sitting with him,
he suddenly bolted upright, looked around his bed and said
(31:12):
to me, with his eyes bright and shining, they're all here.
They tell me the party is going on, and they
came to get me. He started calling out names of men,
interspersing them with loud cowboy type woos. Then he finally
fell silent, eyes closed, and he had the biggest smile
(31:35):
on his face. I had written down all that he
had said at the request of his son. Later, when
the sun returned, he told me that the names were
his father's best friends, fellow cowboys that had worked on
a cattle ranch out west for years. They had all
passed away. I can't tell you how much joy it
(31:58):
gave the sun to think that his father's friends had
come for him to take him to the cowboy party.
One of my grandmothers died in hospice after a brief illness.
Her daughter and her daughter's husband, aunt and uncle were
with her as much as possible. My grandma looked up
(32:21):
toward a corner of the room and had a beautiful
smile on her face. My aunt asked her what she
was looking at, and my grandma said, I see Jesus
and my whole family. My grandma was the youngest of
seven children, and she was the last one in her
family to die. My aunt and I were very close,
(32:46):
and she dreamt often of deceased family members who were
around her. In her final dream, she saw a tall,
dark haired, handsome man stand up strong amongst them. She
needed no words, she knew it was my son who
passed away this year. He was no longer in his wheelchair.
(33:08):
He was completely healed. I remember a patient who was
never very talkative, and it was very difficult to get
even a smile out of him. Not because he was
in pain or seriously ill, that was just his style.
One day, he was looking up towards the ceiling and
he was smiling his head off. He looked so happy.
(33:31):
I asked him if he was okay. He barely moved
his head, but he said yes. I went into the
supply room only for a brief moment, and when I
came out, he had died. But I will always remember
the sheer look of joy on his face. I believe
he was seeing something or someone which made him so happy.
(33:58):
Four days before my eighty nine year old father passed away,
I saw him raise his right hand and say, I'm coming, Mom.
Be patient, I'll be there soon. I'll be there in
four days. And four days later he passed. My father
really loved his mother, and it gave me great comfort
(34:19):
knowing that she was there to greet him. I had
a patient who was actively dying. As her nurse, I
stayed by her side and comforted her as much as
I could. After about twenty minutes, she began to wave
towards the corner of the room. She had this big
(34:40):
smile with glow and joy. She grabbed my hand and said, look,
say hello to my mom. She began reaching her arms
out to the empty corner of the room. She died
within the hour. My grandmother had a massive heart attack.
She was dead for a few moments before being revived
(35:03):
A few weeks later. When she was finally able to speak,
she told us she saw her deceased parents, her brothers,
her sisters, her first husband, and her friends all sitting
around a big card table playing poker. They turned to
her and they told her they couldn't deal her in yet.
(35:26):
When my best friend was dying of cancer, she was
putting up a good fight. She didn't want to die.
She was still a young sixty years old. The day
before her body gave out, she became at peace. She
stopped fighting and said, I love you all, but my
dad's here and I'm going to go with him. The
(35:48):
last words my father said before his death were I
have to go now. My parents are here sitting next
to me on the bed, and they want to take
me somewhere very peaceful and relaxed. And then he died.
My dad was in hospice back in nineteen ninety four
(36:10):
and was in a comatose state for a few weeks
before he passed away. On the day that he passed,
he was holding his arm up toward the corner of
the ceiling and I thought he was waking up. I
called out to him, but he never responded. He smiled
and spoke in a very soft voice to whoever it
(36:30):
was he was seeing before his arm dropped, and then
twenty five minutes later he passed away. Then two months
later he came to me in a dream, telling me
how light he felt. He was flapping his arms like
a chicken flaps their wings. He said he felt very
light and it was just wonderful. He also stated that
(36:55):
he never had time to tell me that he left
five thousand dollars and his top dresser drawer in his
room for me and my wife and two small children.
At the time. I woke up and told my wife
about the dream with my dad. Then I told her
about the money he said he left for us. So
(37:15):
we both got out of bed and went into his
room and opened his top dresser drawer. I took out
all of the papers in the books, and at the
bottom of the drawer was a white envelope with our
names on it. I opened the envelope and counted out
exactly five thousand dollars in cash. Needless to say, I
(37:41):
nearly passed out. And ever since that day, I have
had a fascination with life after death. I know for
a fact life goes on. My mom just passed away
in her sleep at the age of ninety one, and
I took care of her for about two twenty years
after her health started failing. The things that have happened
(38:04):
after she passed are amazing too. Life definitely does go on,
and I look forward to one day seeing my mom
and dad again. I worked as an oncology nurse at
a children's hospital in the nineties. One night I was
caring for a twelve year old girl who was dying
(38:26):
from leukemia. She was there alone, and it was a
very peaceful night. She slept most of it. Her parents
were not there. At one point during the night, she
woke up and asked me, where did the man go?
And I said, what man? And she said, the man
that's been sitting in that rocking chair next to her bed.
(38:47):
Our unit was locked at night, and we knew everyone
who was on that floor, and there was no man
that was visible that sat in that chair next to
her that night. She died peacefully the next morning. To
this day, I know it was someone from heaven coming
to take her home. Before passing, my father had vivid
(39:12):
dreams of his hometown in Sicily. He could recall everyone's names,
the shops and said it was so clear and that
he could remember everything. Dad was eighty when he passed
and hadn't been back to Sicily since he left at
the age of seventeen. I should have realized that this
(39:33):
was a sign of his soon to be passing. My
sister passed twelve months later and said that Dad was
at the hospital with her just before she died. It's
time to go to our last break and then we'll
be back with more stories. You're listening to Shades of
the Afterlife on the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast a
(39:57):
M Paranormal Podcast Network. Stay there, Sandra will be right back.
Speaker 4 (40:14):
Hey, it's the Wizard of Weird Joshua P. Warren. Don't
forget to check out my show Strange Things each week
as I bring you the world of the truly amazing
and bizarre right here on the iHeartRadio and Coast to
Coast AM Paranormal Podcast Network.
Speaker 3 (40:36):
This is Afterlife Expert Daniel Braakley, and you're listening to
the iHeartRadio and Coast to Coast AM Paronormal Podcast Network.
(41:00):
Welcome back to Shades of the Afterlife. I'm Sandra Champlain.
We never know how our life is going to play out,
or the lives of our loved ones, but hearing these
stories gives so much confidence that no one dies alone,
that there's a bigger plan. That we're greeted that there's
(41:20):
parties and that people will take us home. I'd like
to continue our story time with some stories from the
new books that I'm reading called Final Gifts, written by
two hospice nurses. They say, sometimes a family decides to
withhold information about the death of someone. The dying person
(41:42):
knows this impulse is to spare someone emotional pain, but
the truth often brings peace, not discomfort. This is the
story of Sue, a dignified Chinese woman. Sue was getting
devoted care from her daughter Lily. Both were Buddhists and
(42:02):
very accepting of the mother's terminal status. I've had a
good life for ninety three years, she said, and I've
been on earth long enough. She dreamed of her husband,
who had died many years before. I will join him soon,
she said. But one day, Sue seemed very puzzled. Why
(42:24):
is my sister with my husband? She asked, They are
both calling me to come. Is your sister dead, I asked, No,
she still lives in China, she said, I've not seen
her for many years. When I related this conversation to
the daughter, she was astonished and tearful. My aunt died
(42:45):
two days ago in China. Lily said, we decided not
to tell mother that her sister had the same kind
of cancer. It was a very painful death. She lived
in a remote village where good medical care wasn't available.
We didn't want to upset or frighten mother since she
was so sick herself. What do you think about your
(43:08):
mother's questioning why she is being called to come by
both her sister and your father, I asked. Mother tells
me that my father's been calling her to be with
him for the past week. Lily said, it gives me
comfort to know they will be together in the next life,
So I guess her sister is waiting there for her. Also,
(43:30):
Lily said, after much thought, do you think the news
of her sister's death will upset your mother? No, I
guess not. They loved each other a great deal, so
it'll be wonderful for them to be all together again.
I guess I should tell her the truth. When Lily
tearfully told her mother about her sister's illness and death,
Sue said, with a knowing smile, Now I understand her
(43:54):
puzzle was solved. She died three weeks later, at peace
and with a se anticipation. The Companionship and support these
presences provide for a person about to die is evident,
but some terminally ill people have these experiences months before
their deaths and benefit in a similar way over a
(44:17):
longer period of time. We don't just see people when
we pass. Sometimes, like the man seeing Cecily, get transported
back to places in the past. Here's the story of Lucy.
Near Dawn, a patient's daughter telephoned mother says she's been
(44:38):
out of her body and has been somewhere else, but
now she's back and keeps wanting to tell me about it.
Ellie said, in a tight, breathless voice, would you please
come over? How is she now? I asked. She says
she's fine, Ellie said, Does she seem any different to you? No,
she's the same as always, except for the story of
(44:58):
leaving her body. Is she upset by having left her body? No,
she's fine, feeling quite comfortable and asking for a cup
of coffee. I told Ellie to make the coffee and
i'd be right over. When I arrived, Ellie looked shaken.
Her mother, though, was serene. How are you doing, I asked, Lucy.
(45:18):
I was just telling Ellie that I went out of
here and left this old body behind for a while.
Lucy said, where did you go? I asked, back to
the old farm in Pennsylvania where I grew up. She said,
The kitchen looked the same, and the view across the
fields where the cows used to be was so fresh
(45:39):
and green. Lucy talked at length about the old farmhouse,
how she'd lived in it until she was nearly twenty,
and then she'd continue to visit until the death of
her uncle, who owned it. After it was sold, she
hadn't returned. In her opinion, she'd been transported to a
place she particularly loved. What do you think this means,
(46:01):
I asked Lucy. Oh, I don't know. I guess I
just wanted to see it again. In describing her out
of body experience, Lucy gave many specific details, but sometimes
they only refer to a light. Here's Emma's story. Emma fifty,
(46:22):
had a husband and two children in their early twenties.
When I asked Emma what she missed most because of
the limitations of her illness, she replied, entertaining I love
to give parties and cook wonderful food for my family
and friends. Her husband reported that many friends brought food
to them now, always hoping to send just the right
(46:45):
thing to tempt Emma's disappearing appetite. So Emma knew that
her family was still eating well, despite the fact that
she could no longer cook for them, But it was
the joy of sharing her creative cooking with the people
she loved that she missed so much. Her daughter was
about to graduate from college, and Emma spoke often about
(47:07):
how she looked forward to seeing her daughter and a
cap and gown. She's the first college graduate in the family,
she said proudly. As her illness progressed, Emma spent more
time in bed. About a month before she died, I
visited and found her propped up on pillows, staring into
space with a dreamy look in her eyes. She was
(47:30):
smiling peacefully. What's happening, Emma, I asked, there's that beautiful light,
she whispered softly. Despite my gentle questioning, she continued to
smile dreamily, but offered no further information. She mentioned the
light two or three times during my next few visits,
(47:52):
never providing details, but continuing to look radiant and peaceful.
She was a strong willed woman who struggled to deal
with her increasing loss of control as she became sicker,
She insisted on continuing to manage her own medicines, despite
the fact that she was sometimes slightly confused. Her family
(48:15):
and nurses were very concerned about her safety and felt
this might be dangerous, yet she could not relinquish this control.
Rather than have a private duty nurse at home, Emma
chose to be admitted into the hospice unit. I visited
her shortly after she was admitted. Oh, if only I
could relax, she complained. What would happen if you relaxed?
(48:38):
I asked, well, that light would come closer again and
I could get to know all those people. For as
flit second, I thought she was referring to her roommates
or the staff on the unit. Unsure, I asked what people.
Emma looked surprised, as if I were asking a rediculous question.
(49:01):
All these people around my bed, of course, she said,
waving her arm to show the size of the crowd
that I couldn't see. You will relax, I reassured her.
This is a safe place to relax and a safe
place to get to know all these people around you.
The beautiful light will come closer and everything will be
(49:24):
all right. The nurse assigned to Emma's care reported that
she was comfortable, but deteriorating, and often appeared busy, preoccupied,
as though giving directions were fussing at people unseen. On
the eve of her daughter's graduation, I visited again and asked,
(49:45):
what's happening, Emma? Well, I have so much to do
with all of these people, and that light just keeps
coming closer, she replied, with a trace of annoyance. Do
you know any of these people? I asked her. Well, yes,
there's my she said, squinting as if to see him better.
I smiled and nodded, knowing that her father had died
(50:06):
less than a year before. Is he waiting for you?
I asked? She looked surprised. For Heaven's sake, Is that
what he's doing? She asked? Emma, when will your work
be done? I continued, Oh, I think probably Sunday, she answered.
I immediately called her family to alert them. The next day,
(50:27):
Emma put on her wig and makeup to prepare for
her daughter's visit after graduation. It was quite a celebration,
with cake, champagne, and lots of family pictures taken The
next morning, Emma again, put on her wig and makeup,
lay back against the pillows with a contented sigh, and
within a few hours had slipped from sleep into a
(50:51):
brief coma. With her family quietly sitting around her. She
peacefully died, just as she had predicted. It was Sunday
and her work was done. If you're interested in hospice
care for yourself, for a loved one, or volunteering, there's
a great website, Hospicefoundation dot org. Many individuals and families
(51:15):
really could benefit from care, but don't know how to
access it. Some people are afraid to discuss it, some
wait for a physician to suggest it, and some people
don't know. You can initiate hospice care on your own.
Remember that hospice does not extend or shorten life expectancy,
but seeks to improve the quality of time that is
(51:36):
left and manage pain. If you think hospice may be
the right choice for you or a family member, here's
how to proceed. Number one, start the conversation. Discuss it
with your healthcare provider. Number two, get recommendations, do some
searching in your area, ask family or friends. Even if
(51:57):
your physician doesn't agree that hospice this is the right choice.
You can contact a local hospice directly for help with
a referral next visit and assess the providers. You can
request a no cost, no obligation visit by the hospice providers.
They will send a clinician to your home, or you
(52:18):
could visit the hospice facility and get your questions answered.
My father spent some time in hospice managing his pain medication.
The facility was bright and happy. The staff couldn't have
been any greater. Little did I know then that that
experience would have me recommending hospice to you. Now, certainly
(52:41):
that's the route I'm going to go. Well, our time
together has come to an end. Please remember to come
visit me at We Don'tdie dot com, Come to a
free Sunday gathering, join one of our medium classes, or
other events. I'm Sandra Champlain. Thank you so much for
listen listening to Shades of the Afterlife on the iHeartRadio
(53:04):
and Coast to Coast am Heirinormal podcast Network.
Speaker 1 (53:15):
And if you like this episode of Shades of the Afterlife,
wait until you hear the next one. Thank you for
listening to the iHeartRadio and coast to coast AM Paranormal
Podcast Network,
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