As you could all see my beloved readers, I had had this amazing journey to see God in Heaven. God had shown me the other side of the veil, where he is so visible and available for all of us. I had a complete reunion with him; the best adventure and the best time of my whole life. Nothing can compare to it. This is not an exaggeration to make my writing sound better. These are the facts. My life is full of adventure, I never have a boring moment, I have experienced a lots of love from my family, from my friends. And I love them all dearly but nothing can compare to the overall satisfaction, love, peace, safety and adventure that I had gotten from God. The encounter with God is like constant ecstasy. You simply can’t beat that whatever you do. Ecstasy that doesn’t come with any side effects or regret or sorrow. You don’t have to repent afterwards. The opposite is true: the side benefits are enhanced abilities, talents, instead of regret, all you feel is ultimate satisfaction and utter joy. That’s exactly what I had experienced. I have been always extremely grateful for this experience and it has been guiding me throughout life ever since. My wisdom has deepened tremendously afterwards and I have been always compelled to deepen it even more every single day ever since.
But – I have never experienced an NDE. Or at least that’s what I have always believed. So, when my grandma had crossed over in 1996, I was very very sad. I was extremely grateful that I didn’t have to be there, to be in the hospital and see her die. I felt both guilty and happy that I was spared to see that. I had been thousands of miles away from there in California and I could have not done anything about it anyway. This way, I just trusted God that he was going to take her soul and make her joyful and happy, just like he did with me while there. I had lit a candle and maybe even said a little made up prayer for her. She was a good person, a very old fashioned person in the best meaning of the word, never doing anything immoral. She was the only one in the family who talked to me about God when I was little, she had bought me a book that helped children understand God, when I already could read, and she regularly prayed for us. So, I was pretty sure that she got to heaven. Also, she was 84 years old and I was just grateful that she had lived a fairly long life.

Without her I’m not sure that I would have learned about God because by the time my mom was born, communism had grabbed hold of our country and the trend was to forget about everything that was not scientific, including God. We still had the churches and synagogues but the best was just to forget about God. And slowly people did. By the time I was born, Hungary has shifted toward socialism and we still had celebrated some very major religious holidays and sometimes we thought about God but it was nothing like in my grandparents or my great- grandparents’ time. They had lived with God. God had been there whatever they had to do, wherever they had to go, whatever had happened to them. In one word, always. I had not realized this fact until my dad had crossed over. Because all this had been in my mom’s memory but she has never talked about these things until we started to go through our grieving related to my dad’s crossing.

My mom was beside herself, just like the rest of us, we were so devastated and sad. It took 2 years of our lives just to get through the first shock. Despite the fact that I had a very strong sense that our lives just continue on after our bodies worn out and leave this earthly realm, I still wasn’t ready for that carnal pain that I started to experience. I was so attached to his physical form, that suddenly I could not believe that he could be somewhere and he’d be still fine. I wanted to relive what he went through. As if that would’ve helped him somehow. Since his body was cremated I couldn’t take the images out of my head that he was wasted away in the flames. It was one of the most mentally torturous times of my life.
At one point, I was sobbing so hard that I could feel that if I didn’t stop, I will die from the physical and emotional exertion. I felt how it could’ve happened that my heart would have given out and stopped. I was very close to it. My mom yelled at me to stop crying. It felt very harsh that she yelled at me when I have already been in such pain but I knew I would have died of a broken heart literally if she didn’t.
He had been ill for a while before he passed and we all have been exhausted from it. Me particularly from the constant prayer because I knew how ill he was. When he went to the hospital again, I took a night off from prayer and we were watching some silly show to relax, believing that he was gonna be taken care of. That night he had crossed over. I could not forgive myself. I could not look into a mirror without feeling horrible about myself for a long while. That’s when I understood why they had covered the mirrors in the older times when someone had died. I hated to look at myself in a body, while he couldn’t have his body. Never thought that experiencing something like that was possible.
Later on, I relived my childhood memories that were connected to him. The memories were so vivid, it was hard to believe. As if they just have happened yesterday. Things that I have seemingly totally forgot about. That’s when I realized that I was saying goodbye to him bit by bit for ever.
But in the meanwhile some very significant events have happened. In a few days after his ‘death’ I came to myself as much that I realized that he’s now on the other side and HE MIGHT NEED MY HELP THERE. I blamed myself that I didn’t pray for him earlier. What if he needed help? What if he didn’t get to go to heaven?

I started to pray for his soul. At this point even right away felt late to me. I just felt an urge, like as if he was in trouble and needed my help. From here on my main concern became this, suddenly, instead of his bodily ‘problems’. That was on the 3rd day from his passing. That night he came to me. The first time since he had passed. In my dream, I was standing in the middle of a coffee shop/ restaurant. He had loved to go to restaurants and he had taken me many times when I was little. Just me and him. Maybe that is why that kind of particular place was the chosen meeting location. Suddenly he came in the door. I did not expect to see anyone, mainly not him. It was totally unexpected that he walked in. We looked at each other and he smiled with a huge and very happy smile and blew a kiss toward me as he was coming toward me. I have not seen him smiling so happily maybe ever! The smile and the kiss made me also feel like as if he was extremely grateful and saying a huge thank you that I had thought about him and that I had prayed for him. We absolutely understood each other without words. We literally grabbed hold of each other as if our lives depended on it and it was the longest and warmest hug I have ever given anyone. It was the same from him. As if we haven’t seen each other for years. It had been 3 days only but when somethIng is final, it seems like it’s for ever.

For some reason, I could see everything that he was wearing: he was wearing his favorite elegant, yellow color polo shirt, a pair of beige color pants that was made of a thicker, warmer, woolen, expensive looking fabric. I could see the fabric up close. He had a work bag on his left shoulder, like as if he had worked for someone. Work was his life on earth. And now I couldn’t ignore the feeling and I even told my mom that I thought he worked for God now. He looked in his 30s and totally healthy. I was elated that I could see him. It felt real. In my heart, I knew that it was real. I woke up right away and from there I was waiting for other meetings with him. While the grieving of his physical body had gone on for a very long time, in spirit, I could hardly wait to see him at nights.
From then on he came to me many times and literally taught me things and given advices. Also true, that once when I had asked if he could visit more often, he told me that God didn’t let him. That I accepted. I was just glad when he could come.
Then he started to go to my mom as well at nights.

I had agonized over his ‘death’ from many many aspects for about 5 years. But then he came to me so many times in my dreams that I started to get used to it that he was not here in body but if I thought of him, he was gonna come see me at night for the most part.
Once a very particular thing happened. I was talking to him in my dream and then I said that he had died. At that time I was more casual with my words once again to him. He looked at me with a very scared look in his eyes, an aura of fear surrounded him for a second and then he disappeared from front of me. Like as if he ran away. I was thinking about this afterwards. Why did he get so scared? He’s already gone physically and he knows it. He had talked to my sister in her dream while they were picking cherries, and they both knew in my sister’s dream that he was gone… Then I tried to think with his mind. In his mind he was living in this place, wherever that is, just like in my mind I am living in this place where we live. And then I start to talk about death to him. Of course he got scared! The word ‘death’ is one of our most feared word, it has the deepest gravity. He had just gone through the most frightening experience of his life not long ago… and I scared him by saying this word. For him it must have seemed that he could die again. I tried to very strongly remind myself to never use this word to him ever again.
Where could he be? I’m not sure but I didn’t see or feel any hellish feeling or presence. Since I had been struggling to let him go, one night he came to me in my dream, and we started talking but it was more like a thought exchange than speaking with our lips about my ongoing agony that now he’s there and can’t come home anymore. I felt guilty – not that we did anything bad to him, just all of us, our whole family, including him, could have handled a lots of emotional happenings a lot better than we did -. One of the biggest lessons from ‘death’ for many families I guess and definitely for ours, also. And he tried to make me feel better because God had inspired him to console me because it has gone on too long and God felt that this interferes with my life too much, but my dad was sad, that he couldn’t come home anymore and be with us, I could tell. He didn’t blame us but I could tell that he was disappointed, and it hurt him that this is the truth. God told me that he had crossed over earlier than he was supposed to… So I was crying and told him as a silver lining in this dream that: “But we are going to meet in the universe one day when I’ll cross over.” This didn’t make him a lot happier, he smiled at me but it was a sad smile and my dream ended right here. The next day these words echoed in my thoughts: “we are going to meet in the universe.” Interesting. Very interesting. Why did I use these particular words, I had no idea. But then later I saw the story from an NDE-er in which he claimed to see that after his death, he was with other souls that looked like shiny stars hanging from the sky out in the universe. They were in an absolute blissed state. That made a lots of sense to me. (I’m looking for this story now but I couldn’t find it yet.)

And after my personal account about ‘death’ this is what I wanted to get to. While I was mourning, I constantly searched accounts about NDEs on youtube. There weren’t many at all. I reread the stories from my physical books I already had about NDEs. But then there were some more on youtube and finally there were enough for me to go on and to study them. I wanted to see how my meeting God experience mashed together with the stories of NDEs. Because it’s one thing that there is a God. A very loving God who is alive and lives for ever. But it is an entirely different question if we too live for ever or not.
At my grandma’s passing I just trusted this process. She also came to me in a dream of mine after she had passed, and from that I deduced that the soul doesn’t die. But my daddy’s untimely passing was an entirely different thing. I started to question everything all over again. What would be the reason to live, if we were just born for then just to die? What sense would that make? And mainly for our loved ones to ‘die’. To see them disappear into the nothingness??! To get to know them so intimately and love them so dearly, just for them to rot away, burn or fall into a big black darkness, where they are hurting, sad and lonely? That cannot be on the watch of a loving God that I had met!! It cannot be! That wouldn’t be logical, that wouldn’t make any sense. Rather, that would be insane.

Yes, it took the ‘death’ of one of the closest people to me to really start to investigate this awful thing. Of course I had known about NDEs. I had been super curious about them since I had been always curious about everything that dealt with existential questions, and since my mysterious encounter with God just fostered these unique and challenging mental endeavors.
But also I wanted to live this life first, like everyone else. I had been busy with living. The rare, beautiful and intriguing stories about the after life, that few that had been published had made me temporarily satisfied because I could see the same truth patterns in them that I saw in my own story of seeing God. But the ugliness of ‘death’ wasn’t tolerable anymore.
Since I had God within reach in my own memories, I didn’t read the Bible. I didn’t feel the need. Meeting God was more than any Bible to me. I didn’t feel that I needed a ‘middle man’. Also, I have a hard time just believing things. I always want to get first hand experience in something before I accept anything.

But there was too much at stake with my daddy. I had to know. Is there ‘death’? So, I had launched myself into the stories of the NDEers every day, and then I had talked it through with my mom, meaning, I analyzed them to her and she had to suffer listening to my analysis.
She was the one seeing my dad going through an open heart surgery, being paralyzed on a fast track from another disease and then ‘die’. She saw him taking his last breath. So, it was very hard on her to hear about any more traumatic events. But once again, I had to know. And I believed that she has to know what the truth is. It was very similar to my quest to know the universe. Now I wanted to know if there’s death or not. I wanted to know it for sure. Period. Every little crumb from the NDE-ers took me closer to the truth. And then some…

The more I had talked to her and had explained the nature of the NDEs to her, the more got posted on youtube. It’s a very interesting closed circuit we live in…

My takeaway from the NDEs in a nutshell based on my own experience with God is : The ones that are true experiences and not stolen and compiled from other people, are true.
(There are some reckless thieves that risk their second life just to make a buck or just to pretend that it’s their stories. And then are some liars who make up stories and then nowadays there could be victims of a very new kind of fraud.)

But the real NDE-ers stories tell the same story about God that I know so intimately. Everyone can breath freely and rejoice. We don’t have to rot in the soil to be recovered later sometimes. We go straight to the afterworld. We don’t take our bodies with us. Only our experiences in life and our life story. Every second of it. Everyone is going to be judged though, based on how they treated other people. For that reason, there is a hell also, not just a heaven. I’ll elaborate about this later.

After all the research I did, God was directing me toward the Bible. So I gave in, for my biggest surprise of my life. It’s very late now, I will continue writing this tomorrow.

Adrienne