Nobody enjoys visiting graves for the appropriate reasons. Hundreds of instances have been told to us about “something” occurring and mourners misinterpreting it as a message from a recently deceased family member. There are also touching accounts from people who have passed over, demonstrating the existence of heaven. However, we can never really embrace it if it has not occurred to us.

I don’t like going to cemeteries. My mother died when I was 18, and I only go there twice a year, despite the fact that I think about her every day. I don’t visit her grave because I think she is in another world that is unseen to the human eye, where she may fly anywhere she wants. It doesn’t make sense to just hang around her grave.

If I’m at home, I feel she’s with me unless she’s with another family member. That’s my perspective. Her body is present, but her spirit is eternal and boundless. She just had to let go of her deteriorating body, which was incapable of sustaining the soul (driver). My mom usually gives me messages in the form of strange coincidences and dreams. I had a wonderful dream about a year ago that I still remember clearly.

It was unlike any other dream, and I knew she was speaking to me from her spirit, not simply from my yearning to see her. But for the time being, let us stick to a narrative that simply makes you believe in indications supplied by a departed loved one…”Today, we held a graveside service for my father. He was laid to rest beside my mother, overlooking a beautiful pond surrounded by trees.

My daughter asked me shortly after the burial whether I’d seen the red cardinal fly past all of us, and although I had missed it since I was immersed in my thoughts, I instantly realized that the red cardinal represents the fact that our loved ones in spirit go on forever. As we drove home from the funeral, I thought about how my mother had been reunited with my father and was maybe aiding him in this early stage of his spiritual journey.

Soon after, I observed three license plates with the numbers 29 (my mother’s birthday), 39 (the year my mother was born), and 59 (the year my parents married). Coincidence? Perhaps, but I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in signs and coincidences. And I have no doubt in my mind or heart that this was my mother’s way of telling me she was returning to my father.”