I had that experience when I was 14, and lost a friend I had a mad crush on. He came to me on a bus ride home from a competition (drum and bugle), and as I lay in the bus seat looking up, making the street lights flicker and change colors when I moved my head so the tears would magnify them, He told me he was allright, and he didn’t hurt, and not to worry about him. To this day (31 years later), I still take great comfort in that moment alone with Sonny on that lonesome, dark night; the smell of diesel fuel is perfume to me, still.

Believe. Now you can.

Continuing to pray for you and the boys.

I believe in God because I know, in my deepest of souls, that he is with me.

If her spirit is real to you, if you feel it in your deepest of souls, then she is.

That’s faith.

peace and love, always.

Now, philosopher mode OFF, kinda. I have seen a ghost (very real looking he was, too), and my mother had a visit from my dad while he was in a coma before he died. I feel (very strongly) that there is more than what we see here–the details escape me, but I can feel that other SOMETHING there. If I’m wrong, I guess I’ll never know/it won’t matter anyway. Hang in there dude, and when it all hits (almost certainly it will–it just takes a while sometimes) remember the good things/times, and know there will be more. Not with BJ, at least in this life, but in your life.

Keep writing, if you can. I hope that it helps you, and you seem like a part of the family now, in some weird Internets kind of way. Funny how that works. I’ll be keeping you, the kids, the parents, and BJ in my thoughts/prayers.

She’ll be with you, and with your boys and her family, forever. Your kind of love will keep you bonded in this life and the next.

I wish I could offer help, or words to make this easier. Instead, I’m sending prayers and support to you all every day.

I lost my mother–my very best friend–5 years ago. For years leading up to her death (she had always been ill) I worried how I would survive it emotionally. Aside from losing my husband or children, I couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Anyway, the time came, and she died. I cried that first night, although when I did sleep, I felt someone patting my back all night. The next morning, I thanked my husband for comforting me. He said he never did; it must’ve been my mother.

We got home (we’d been out of town where she was having surgery) and I felt this overwhelming sense of HAPPINESS as soon as I walked into my house. Like a peacefulness/gratefulness/happiness that I have never, ever known before. (And I’m generally a really happy person.) It came over me and I literally couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for hours. I felt guilty for feeling so GOOD, but I couldn’t help myself! And I felt my mother’s presence constantly. I talked to her. She found ways to send me messages. I knew she wasn’t really gone. She was still with me; I just couldn’t see her. Five years later, and I still have times of feeling her around me. It has brought me loads of comfort.

Oh, and about the perfume? The day after she died, we stopped by my brother’s house to see him and just chat awhile (my husband & I). Out of nowhere, her perfume overwhelmed the room — so much so, that we all just stopped talking. We looked at each other. Simultaneously, we all said, “You smell that?” It lasted maybe 60 seconds. We told our mother hello. It left as suddenly as it had come.

BJ will always be with you, but I don’t think you need me to tell you that.

Sending you non-stalker internet hugs. ;-) I so admire the kind of person you are and the things you are doing for your boys, and for yourself, even.

BJ is extremely proud, I’m sure.