Echoes of the Eternal.

There’s something I’ve been sitting with, something that’s been stirring in my soul for a while now, and I want to share it with you.

A few years ago, I had an experience that changed everything I thought I knew about life, death, and the threads that bind us all. It was the morning my father passed away. But before I even knew the news, something extraordinary happened.

It was about 2am. I was awake, praying, when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it, but there was no one there. Not physically, at least. But there was a presence. It was as if I felt someone’s spirit with me — and in that quiet, sacred moment, I heard words, not with my ears, but in my heart:
“It’s okay now, you can go to sleep. Daddy is okay. He’ll be alright.”

So, I went to sleep. At 6am, I got the call: Daddy was gone.

At first, I was confused, and for years, I wrestled with that moment. But now, four years later, I see things differently. I’ve changed. And the more I reflect on it, the more I realize that something shifted in me that night. Something deeper than grief — something spiritual.

I began to wonder: Was my father’s spirit merging with mine? Did a part of him stay with me? Not just in memory, but in essence, in the very fabric of my being? Is that what it means for someone to live on? Perhaps it's not just through the stories we tell, but through the deeper connections we share — those bonds that transcend time, space, and even the physical body.

It’s like the idea of coins — how we’re all different sides of the same coin. My mother and I, for example, share a profound mental, emotional, and spiritual connection. Even when we’re miles apart, it’s as if we speak the same language. I feel the same connection with my father — in the way I respond to situations, the wisdom I carry, and the deep knowing that comes over me, often without explanation.

It’s not just a memory. It’s like I became him in some way. And it’s not just me. My twin brother’s son — people say he’s the spitting image of my father. His mannerisms, his spirit, his essence — all of it reflects my father in ways that make you stop and think, "Wow, that’s him. That’s Daddy.”

It makes me wonder: are we ever truly gone? Or are we simply evolving, shifting into new forms, new expressions? Our bodies may pass away, but does our essence continue on through the connections we form, the wisdom we share, the people we impact? In a way, is life itself more like a transition — a brief moment between realms, rather than an end?

I’ve also noticed something strange: I know things. Not just intellectually, but with a depth of knowing that feels beyond this world. It’s like wisdom comes to me from a place that isn’t here — a place that I can only describe as divine. I believe it’s the Holy Spirit. It’s a kind of knowing that can’t be explained — only felt.

I’m not alone in this experience. I know many of you have felt the same way. You’ve felt the presence of loved ones who have passed, and you’ve carried them with you in ways that are not just emotional, but spiritual. Maybe that’s the truth — maybe this life is not about the number of years we live, but about how we carry the spirits of those who came before us. Maybe life is more than just the body; it’s the energy, the love, and the wisdom that we continue to share, long after the physical form has gone.

So, I ask you to sit with this question: What if life isn’t just about what we can see and touch? What if it’s a sacred transition, a moment in an eternal journey, a time where we evolve, connect, and keep becoming more of each other?

I believe we never truly die. We simply keep becoming more of the people we’ve loved, the spirits we’ve shared, and the lessons we’ve learned.

And maybe, in the quietest of moments, when we listen deeply, we hear them still. We feel them — not as memories, but as living, breathing parts of who we are, echoing through time.


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