Do these stories prove dead loved ones come back to comfort us?

LAurA lynne JAckSon, one of the world’s top psychics, recently wrote in the mail about how she contacts the dead to bring comfort to the bereaved. hundreds of you responded with your stories about feeling the presence of a lost loved one.

Some will read them as the expression of powerful grief. others will find them harder to explain.

either way, they are testament to the enduring power of love . . . My grandfather sent a bright light to bring me peace my lATe grandfather was such a lovely, gentle, kind man.

When he passed on in 1991, I was devastated. For some inexplicable reason I instinctively switched on every light in the house for the first few nights afterwards.

one night, while sitting by the fire, I glanced up and there in front of me was an impression of light — a brilliance way beyond any word I can speak or write.

I immediately thought: ‘Grandad!’ And then it was gone. Without even thinking, I switched off all the ‘extra’ lights and felt the most amazing feeling of peace.

Annette Borrill His favourite bird came to us after he died In my first marriage, we had a garden with four acres, and herons used to come to our wildlife pond regularly — we really loved seeing them.

Sadly, my husband and I divorced, but we remained close friends even though we both remarried.

In 2010, he died quite quickly of cancer. The next day, as I drove through an estate close by, a heron appeared and landed on a roof.

I slowed down and watched it, and it turned and appeared to look at me. It stayed on the roof, standing for about five minutes, watching me. I relayed this to our son and he said a heron had landed in his garden at the same time.

I rang our daughter and she gasped. A heron had landed in her garden also.

We all live a long way away from each other, yet we all saw a heron at the same time, the day after his death.

Rachael Hyde Radiant vision showed me Mum was happy my lovely mum sadly passed away from cancer at the grand age of 87 years. I missed her terribly.

my partner and I witnessed electrical problems, with various lights flashing on and off in our rented accommodation (while our home was being restored following floods) then subsequently in our home when we returned.

Strangely enough, it always seemed to happen when I needed contact the most and would perhaps be having a little cry.

one evening, my daughter gave me some money for safe keeping that she had been gifted by her grandmother. I placed it in a drawer until I decided to retire to bed.

I grabbed the envelope containing the notes, thinking it would be safer upstairs, and the lights immediately fused and the whole house blacked out completely.

Was I scared? not really — I laughed and told mum out loud that I wasn’t taking the money for myself, I was simply looking after it for my daughter. The lights kept behaving strangely for some time, until one evening I dreamt mum was standing right next to me, looking so beautiful and quite radiant.

She told me she was very happy and we hugged so tightly I could feel her as if I was wide awake.

I woke up feeling like a weight had lifted and I was so comforted by that lovely vision of my mum.

Lesley Woods A telephone message from the afterlife my huSbAnd, Wyn, died on July 5, 2013, ten weeks short of our golden wedding anniversary. on returning home late one morning, I found a message had been left on my answerphone. The message was very short — it said: ‘how are you?’ The voice was my dead husband’s.

The message is still saved on the answerphone, and friends and colleagues of my husband’s confirmed — without me prompting — that it is his voice.

Jackie Roberts My pen took on a life of its own and scribbled a note mAny years ago, I worked with a class of young children and occasionally had a special needs teacher to assist.

When her husband died in a car accident, I helped in any way I could.

Two or three months later, I was

watching TV and making a to-do list. After a while, I became aware that the sidelights on the walls had started to flicker — but I ignored it.

As I sat there, letting the sights and sounds from the TV wash over me as I wrote, it eventually began to dawn on me that I hadn’t taken in a single thing for the last hour.

However, the paper in front of me was covered in writing.

What I had in front of me was effectively a letter from my colleague’s dead husband to his grieving wife. It was a plea for forgiveness for all the times he’d behaved so badly when he was alive.

‘I know quite well that [their son] would be sitting at the kitchen table eating his evening meal, but at the sound of my car’s tyres crunching the gravelled drive and seeing the headlights, he would leave the table, scrape any uneaten food into the bin and rush upstairs to his room.’

The writing pleaded me to ‘ give this letter to my poor wife’. I didn’t, of course — not then.

That year, however, was one of electrical disturbances. Nothing major, just persistent.

The sidelights were checked by the electrician and we were told everything was fine. Just over a year after everything happened, my colleague and I were sitting in the staff room — we all knew by now that her husband had been a very difficult man — and speaking of her son, she said: ‘ Do you know, he would be sitting at the table eating his dinner, but the minute he heard his father’s car in the drive he would rush from the table, scrape his uneaten food into the bin and then race upstairs . . .’

Listening to those words convinced me that the letter I had received/ written was from her husband. Later, I took her to one side and, as gently as possible, told her about what had happened. She believed me.

Naturally I gave her the letter. It was never mine to keep. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, there were no electrical problems after that.

Dorothy Service The love letter I pined for — sent from the grave A feW weeks after my husband died, my daughter called.

We sat together, looking through some pictures. I found myself saying: ‘The one thing I regret is that your father never ever sent me a love letter. Other widows have letters, sometimes tied up with ribbon, but I have nothing like that.’

Just at that precise second, both my daughter and I gave an involuntary ‘Oh!’ because right before our eyes was an envelope sitting on top of the photographs.

We did not see it actually materialise, but were certain it had not been there before.

I picked it up. It was dated 43 years previously and was addressed to me in my maiden name. I took the letter out of the envelope. It was indeed a love letter, professing love, ‘body and soul’ for ever.

I cannot remember ever receiving this letter.

Anonymous Mum’s signal proves we survive death fIVe days before Christmas 1993, my mum, aged 80, was admitted to hospital for investigations.

She told me she had discussed which hymns she wanted at her funeral with my sister.

I was quite indignant, but found myself saying that if she did go and there was ‘another side’, would she please come back and give me a sign. Sadly, on Christmas eve, she died unexpectedly and we were called to the hospital.

eventually we were given a cup of tea and I looked out of the window and thought what lovely weather it was. Suddenly, my mum shouted out: ‘I’m all right, I’m all right!’ I put my hand up to my throat as my heart was thumping so fast and hard.

However, what really surprised me was that the four other people in the room had not reacted and therefore had heard nothing.

I think myself so fortunate that I asked her for a sign that day — I have no doubts that we survive death.

Pam James Haunted by my ex who begged for forgiveness My fOrMer husband, John, ensured by various means that our son and I were systematically denied fair financial support.

In short, I had many very hard years of single parenthood and overwork, while he lived a very comfortable, easy life.

He died unexpectedly at the age of 57. Shortly after his death, I felt a presence in my home. Though he had never lived here, I just knew it was him.

I told this presence to leave our son and me alone (in a less polite manner) — he had done enough harm in life. The presence persisted on and off.

Several months later, I came by chance across someone at work, Peter, who told me he was a psychic medium. We were chatting together when he told me I had ‘something’ hanging about me.

Later that day, he sent me a text with a drawing of a young man’s face. In the text he asked: ‘Does it mean anything, linking to the Seventies? And the song I Can’t Let Maggie Go?’ None of it added up at this stage.

The next day, in the office, we were discussing this and were both suddenly hit with a tingling sensation like an electric shock.

Peter said: ‘He is here, his name is John, he needs your forgiveness, he can’t move on.’

Peter was looking at something over my shoulder. I was terrified to turn around in case I saw something. I shouted: ‘Leave me alone!’ and it went away.

We looked again at the picture, and yes, I recognised that this was John as a young man in the Seventies. The song signalled that I had to forgive him and ‘let him go’.

It seemed the strength of my illfeelings was holding him back.

Later, on reflection, I said the Lord’s Prayer to express my forgiveness to John. I then felt a great lightening of spirit.

Anonymous (names changed) I feel my wife’s presence every day fIVe years ago, my wife, Pat, died. We had been together for more than 40 years and had often discussed what we thought happens when people die.

Pat had an outright belief in another life, but I used to joke that I was waiting for someone to tell me. My wife’s death completely destroyed me. But I survived because I can hear her talking to me and I feel her presence.

I had a heart valve replaced in 2011 and I never had a moment’s worry, because she told me it would be OK.

I just wait until I can smell Pat’s perfume and feel her touching my face, because I know she will be calling for me soon.

I loved my wife totally and without question. It can be an advantage to see the other side sometimes. Love never dies!

Geoff Prescott My girl’s gifts show she’s still close by My BeAuTIfuL 21- year- old daughter passed away four years ago. In the beginning, I didn’t believe in the afterlife or signs from the other side.

I was proven wrong. My daughter continuously finds ways to let me know she is still around.

from a cloud formed into an angel to leaving me a heart-shaped rock in my pond on Mother’s Day. I could go on and on.

Michelle White Dad sent a sweet kiss as he passed on My DAD was in a care home, close to death. I was looking after my mum, who was in her late-90s, so I took her home and I fell asleep on the sofa.

I was awoken by a sweet kiss behind my ear and immediately looked at the clock. It was 2.30pm.

Not long after that, the care home phoned to tell me Dad had passed away at 2.30pm. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that kiss had come from my dad.

Later on, in a dream, I saw Dad in his ‘den’ looking at his bookshelf. I called out: ‘Dad!’ and he looked around, surprised to see me.

I woke up euphoric. I went to my parents’ now-empty house, and had a look at the shelf my dad had been looking at.

There was only a dusty old book that didn’t look at all interesting.

But when I picked it up, I found it contained my paternal grandfather’s journal of his days as a fleet Street editor, and all the famous people he had met — like emily Pankhurst, Scott of the Antarctic and so on. What a find!

Valerie Anckorn Dead friend’s TV clue has given me hope My BeST friend, Alex, died quite suddenly. In his working life he had been a customs officer, and his last secondment before his retirement was in the anti-terrorist section of Scotland yard.

Not long after his death, I was in bed, lights out. Then, on the ceiling, I saw Alex’s face and I heard his voice in my head, repeating two words slowly and with emphasis: ‘Big bags, big bags.’

He had a pronounced Scottish accent, and there was no mistaking his voice. ‘Big bags’ didn’t mean anything to me, however.

A few weeks later I was watching the six o’clock news, during which there was a report of the capture of some would-be terrorists — they were attempting to make explosives from fertiliser.

There on the screen were three large yellow bags, and printed on each bag were the words ‘Big bags’.

Perhaps you can imagine my astonishment. Pre-retirement, this is exactly the kind of raid that Alex would have been involved in.

for most of my adult life I have been what I can best describe as a seeking agnostic. Now? I still don’t know, but I feel that I have been given a gift of hope.

Audrey Thomas