Still in my life/Evidence of Survival

My life-partner, George Miller, passed to the Other Side over 16 years ago now. Since then all our gay friends, except one couple, have been split up by one of the partners passing to the next dimension. For this is what happens when we ‘die’, our eternal conscious entity or ‘spirit’ leaves this universe and moves on to another one alongside our own.

When George and I met, we knew quite a few gay couples, all his friends who later became mine too: Lenny and Frank, Brian and Noel, Tom and Norman. Now Frank, Brian, Tom and I myself are on our own as our partners have passed on.

I have never seriously sought out another life-partner in these 16 years, and my friends on their own feel the same way. We were all with our life-partners many years, and it would be very hard to adjust to a new one at our stage in life.

A year or so after George died, a gay friend remarked that I didn’t seem to need a new life-partner since I felt George was still around and part of my life. There was quite a lot of truth in this, and he is still part of my life today – in the background, helping me in all sorts of little ways. This is what soul mates, close friends and loved ones do – help each other, even if they are living in different worlds.

This week I got a photo of George and myself enlarged on to a canvas frame. It is in our hallway. The photo was taken a few months before George passed over. The council flat we moved into in early 1984 is still very much ‘our’ flat. Although it has been redecorated, new items bought, old ones moved around, it still bears the imprint of George, and I hope always will. His collages are still intact in two rooms, the ornaments and nick-nacks we bought together, under his guidance, are still on display, as are the pictures we put up. Including his Picasso ‘blue period’ print he bought in Paris before I met him, and which has been on the wall of every home he ever had since. I promised him I’d never get rid of it.

Yesterday I had to take my mother to a hospital to get her a new, digital hearing aid. We got one with amazing speed and lack of fuss. There used to be a waiting list of years before you could get these on the NHS, and I expected to have to wait a few weeks at least, but it was handed to her to replace her old analog one as soon as she had completed the hearing assessment.

We went down to the hospital restaurant, and who should be sitting there with her sister but Stevie Welsh, the marvelous Spiritualist who conducted George’s funeral ceremony 16 years ago. He down-to-Earth no-nonsense manner endeared me to her, and also the fact that she knew the relationship between George and myself and very much approved. She saw me wearing a gay badge at the funeral, pointed to it and said: ‘I’m glad you’re wearing that’.

The funeral service was, I’m sure, one George approved of. It had surreal aspects, such as having to arrange it at a jumble sale taking place in the Spiritualist center where Stevie worked at the time. Brian and I went along to arrange the details with her. This would have appealed to George’s sense of humor and of the surreal – go along to a jumble sale to buy clothes, ornaments, etc. and to arrange your partner’s funeral!

Then at the ceremony itself, Stevie opened her address with: ‘I never knew George, but he sounds like a good bloke to me…..’ I loved the informality of it, and I know George would have. So it was nice seeing Stevie again after many years. I don’t know if she remembered exactly who I was, as we only chatted for a few minutes, during which she told me she no longer worked at that Spiritualist center in Stockwell. But it made me feel, in the week I put up that picture of George and myself in our hallway, and on the day I managed to get my mother a better hearing aid, that George was still very much around.

The ease with which I managed to move my mother from Welwyn Garden City, about 25 miles away, to just 5 minutes’ walk from where I live was also astounding. This was 6 years ago, and there is no way she could be living all that distance away from me now. She’d have needed Social Services to be doing everything for her, or alternatively go into a nursing home or move in with me. She values her independence, and likes here little flat in sheltered accommodation just near me. I go in most days and spend time with her, take her out and cook her meals, plus doing shopping, and dealing with her financial arrangements, collecting her pension, etc. I couldn’t have done any of this with her 25 miles away.

Our loved ones never really leave us when they pass over. They move on to better things, but still keep an eye on us. I know this because of the many communications I’ve had from George, and others in the spiritual dimensions, since they passed over.

George has helped me find things, and has immediately answered post-humous letters I wrote him in the months after he passed over. He told me to keep writing these letters, as they keep us near whilst we’re apart. I still write them twice a year – on his birthday and on the anniversary of his passing over.

Some of you reading this will think: ‘what a load of cods-wallop!’. Fine, that is your opinion. Until you have similar experiences, maybe you’ll remain a skeptic. But exciting things are happening on the frontiers of science that many of us are convinced will prove revolutionary. Quite apart from quantum physics validating the very real possibility of alternative dimensions/parallel universes/spiritual dimensions interpenetrating our own universe, evidence of survival is being scientifically tested all around the world.  Only closed-minded skeptics refuse to examine and accept this evidence.

I keep up-to-date with these scientific experiments, which very soon will overturn many people’s beliefs and prove to everyone that the after life exists. When you can pick up a phone and talk to your granny who passed over 30 years ago, maybe even see her on your computer or TV screen, then you’ll know that survival is real.

This is not pure science fiction, or fantasy. The reports I read regularly describe how people are seeing their departed friends and relatives, hearing their voices on telephones and recording equipment, and even having conversations with them. I have to admit I haven’t experienced any of these phenomena myself, but I keep an open mind until I can personally investigate and decide for myself. I have joined a society where I can keep up to date with these experiments, and hopefully have the opportunity to take part. Then I can decide whether they are proof of survival.

Meanwhile I have all the proof I need thru the various communications I’ve received from George, my father, my grandmother and others on the Other Side. All three of them passed on information or referred to certain personal things which amount to proof of survival.

To those who say all such ‘proof’ is really just a never-ending set of ‘coincidences’, I say: fine, believe that if you will. But if you sit 1,000 chimpanzees in front of 1,000 computers and they consistently churn out the complete works of Shakespeare, or even if only some of them do so, I’d say there is more than mere ‘coinicidence’ at work. At some point the never-ending run of amazing ‘coincidences’ is too consistent to be ‘coincidence’.

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