Faith, Spirits and Unexplained Events is the story about the emotional and moving spiritual growth and journey of the author after suffering the most painful event in his life, the loss of his soulmate and loving wife of thirteen years. Through personal accounts as well as those shared from family and friends, Faith, Spirits and Unexplained Events explains that real, unconditional love never fades or dies. These stories are meant to inspire and provide hope that loving spirits live among us to guide and help us especially through our suffering and grief.
Faith, Spirits and Unexplained Events is the story about the emotional and moving spiritual growth and journey of the author after suffering the most painful event in his life, the loss of his soulmate and loving wife of thirteen years. Through personal accounts as well as those shared from family and friends, Faith, Spirits and Unexplained Events explains that real, unconditional love never fades or dies. These stories are meant to inspire and provide hope that loving spirits live among us to guide and help us especially through our suffering and grief.
One restless morning, at about 5 a.m., Rhoda wanted to get out of bed for no apparent reason but to get coffee. She also asked me to get her some, but 5 a.m. seemed to be a little early, and my sleep tank was already on fumes. Ultimately, she gave in and stayed in bed, still awake. Then she started to look around the room, to the left, middle, right, and back again. After doing so, she asked me why there were people in the room.
Seeing people in the room wouldnât have been Rhodaâs first liver cancerârelated delusional event. She often thought she was in the hospital, but at least she always recognized our kids, friends, family, and me when we were around her. I thought this was another delusion and sort of brushed it off by telling her that there was nobody in the room. She looked around and insisted there were people and she wanted me to get them out. As I didnât see anyone, I reassured her that there really wasnât anyone in the room.
When I talked to her during these events, I often sat in an upright position on my left elbow, facing her, mainly to focus my attention on what she was saying. Her diminishing strength also impacted her speech, so sitting upright was often necessary to hear and understand her. To make matters worse, during some weakened and confused moments, she often resorted to speaking in her native language, Tagalog, which I didnât understand. During this early morning event, after a few minutes of my latest reassurance that the room was empty besides her and me, she looked in my direction and asked me to move. Not sure about this request, I asked her why. She replied that I was blocking âthem.â Freaked out, I immediately turned on the light and looked around to see . . . nothing. Rhoda then stared directly at the spot that I was blocking and gazed at whomever she saw.
I watched her eyes as they moved and fixed on three spots in our room: one to the left of her, one in front, and one to the right. She would always lock her gaze in exactly the same place, then move to the next one. I asked her who she saw, and she usually didnât know but described them as having black hair. My guess is that it could have been some of her Filipino family or friends that passed before her. Iâm not sure who she saw, but now Iâm definitely curious and not as dismissive as earlier. She spent maybe the next thirty minutes or so looking around. At some point, the images vanished, and she fell asleep.
The next morning, at approximately the same time, she woke again and looked around at the same three spots in the room, truly tuned in to whatever it was. I was now open-minded to anything and asked her who she saw. Without hesitating, she said she saw Ambet. Of all the people and names that could have come out of her mouth, she said âAmbet,â the name of her brother who had passed away from diabetes several years earlier. I asked her to confirm it was Ambet, and she did. I was so happy and touched . . . I really believe that if someone deserved angels and spirits watching over them, it was Rhoda, and now, she had her older brother watching over her. There were others in the room, but Ambet was the only one she mentioned by name. She looked around the room a bit longer, then, at some point, just like the day before, the spirits went away, and she fell asleep.
These visions continued throughout the week, mainly in the early morning hours with me by her side, but also at other times. Most days, she would talk and laugh with them. Her best friend passed away years earlier, so I assume Rhoda was laughing with her. Another day she uttered the names Joseph and Mary (clearly a scripture reference). She was always 100 percent focused on what I can only describe as listening to the spirits or angels and learning from those who were visiting her at the time.
I noticed two things during these events. First, even though the weakness she endured from cancer made it harder for her to speak clearly and for us to understand what she was saying, when the spirits were visiting, her speech was noticeably better. Second, her eyes were a bit watery and glassy when the spirits were around. I didnât know if she was crying but didnât see any need to dry her eyes. I know spirits are capable of amazing things but wouldnât have guessed that they could help my wife speak with more clarity; evidently, I was wrong.
I too have experienced deep losses within my lifetime and have written about them; but, for the most part, the words remain unpublished. A literary agent I approached asked me, "Are you writing for your own healing or for the healing of others?" If it's cathartic for you, by all means write; but, for it to be shareable across a broad spectrum you have to add in actionable steps of how your story will benefit, aid, and lead others.
Admittedly, this author repeatedly states he is by no means a writer. A transparency that's key to keep in mind in order for you to begin and finish this book. The author is not trying to be something he's not; and, he truly does hope his words bring hope and encouragement to others who are lost within grief.
The above being said, this book is not for me in that it truly needed to be helped along either by the hiring of a ghost-writer to make this husband's and wife's journey come to life more fully; or, it needed those aforementioned action steps to be added into the words, stories, and chapters shared.
Action steps such as including the stages of grief and relating chapters specifically to each, more in-depth detail regarding the various places and suggested resources people can go to in attempts to find healing while reaching out to the other-side; a deeper dive into personal beliefs in God and ones interpretation of Scripture passages where it states people are not to consult mediums and the loop-hole one might determine to give themselves in order for such a consultation to take place free of guilt, etc.
The author does communicate in a style that makes this read an easy one. The book's chapters are short, it's revelations to the point, and ultimately love is showcased in powerful ways. It's an eternal flame.
The candles and their messages were the most poignant part for me; and, words I choose to leave with you now: Live. Laugh. Love. This I know to be true, our loved ones that go before us want us to continue to live with laughter and love ever present in our lives. Emotions that are necessary to remember the joy that once was and to incorporate that same joy into our present and future. Breathe in, breathe out, remember your loved one with a smile, and live!