No one ever really dies

This may be a hard thing to comprehend, but it is something I know.  If you’re a science buff, you may remember that at the basic level, scientists can see a tiny charge that strikes like a lightening bolt between the two tiniest particles they can see with current technology.  Ladies and gentleman, meet God.

Albert Einstein taught us that ‘energy cannot be created nor destroyed- it can only change form.’  If this is true, then nothing ever really dies and everything has always existed.  What a fantastic concept.  Reality is based on our own individual perception.  We only know the reality we directly experience.  So I’d like to share one of my ‘surreal’ type experiences with you.

My Dad’s side of the family came to America when he was only a young boy.  They worked hard, and built a good life for themselves.  In Italian culture, the center is always the family.  Over the years we had traditions and those traditions were never compromised.  Every holiday, even the ones that aren’t ‘real’ holidays like Labor Day, were spent with the family.  My grandparents were so proud of their children and their grandchildren, and their love always showed.

In 2001, my brothers (with the help of my parents) became the owners of a bakery.  They had both worked very hard to learn their trade, earning gold medals in state and national competitions.  They were young- 21 and 23- and about to embark on being entrepeneurs.  The day that bakery opened was a proud day for my grandfather, whom we call Nonno.   Although he wasn’t feeling well that day, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. My grandmother, Nonni, told him they could go visit the bakery another day if he didn’t  feel well, but he insisted. “No,” he said, “today is the day they open, and today is the day I’m going.”

This photo was taken when I was about 12. That's my Nonno in the middle and my brothers on his lap. His expression is so serious and we are all silly. It's one of my favorites because of that.

Shortly after his visit to the bakery, he went into the hospital.  He had a heart attack, and it wasn’t the first or the second.  He was put in intensive care and we could only see him one at a time (because my Nonni wouldn’t leave his side). I remember going into the room and seeing him smile as soon as he saw me. By the sound of his voice you wouldn’t know anything was wrong.  “Nicole!  How are you?” he said.  I looked at him and put my hand on his arm and said, “Nonno, I’m okay, how are YOU?”  I was struck by how selfless and loving he was in that moment, as if I’d never noticed before.  He said, “I’m all right, Nonno”  (he sometimes called us that in return).

About 6 months earlier I had broken off a 5 year relationship with my boyfriend and in their eyes this was tragic.  They were from the old country, and that meant if you were a young girl, you didn’t stay single.  My Nonni had told him I had a date a few days ago and he got really excited for me.  I’ll never forget his next words.  “You have a boyfriend, Nicole?  Oh good, now I can die happy.”

That was the last day he spoke.  I won’t go into the details from there, but he passed within about a month of that day.   Years passed and although I have always had a ‘gift,’ at that point in time I was still struggling  with whether or not it was real and talking myself out of messages all the time.  My mother and aunt happened to have a reading with the woman who would become my mentor, Jackie Waitkus, and I had asked to listen in.  I was all the way in Texas and they were in Massachusetts.  At the end of the session I chimed in because I had a recurrent dream that I wondered about.  This dream was persistent, and it was always the same.  It was a dream of my family, all gathered at my grandparent’s house like always, and as I’m walking around the house, I see Nonno.  He is gleemingly bright, like the difference between black and white and Technicolor.  The rest of the people and scenery seemed dull in comparison.  I walk over to him and say, “Nonno!  What are you doing here?  You died!”  He just simply says, “No, I’m alive.”  Then my dream shifts to the day of the funeral, as if I’m remembering.  I tell him again, “No, Nonno, I saw you.  They put you in the ground.  You died.”  He kept saying answering the same, “No, I’m alive.”

After I finished telling her about the dream, she said this was his way of showing me how he is now, and brought through more information from him to us.  He told us he’s healthy and vibrant now and not sick anymore.  He also expressed that when he passed on, he was very surprised that he was ‘still there.’  How fantastic to think that he thought he was saying goodbye to all of us, only to find that he was still there and could still see all of us.  I was a little shocked to hear it myself!  With spirits, you never know what they might say or observe, and a lot of the time you hear things you’d never expect.  Jackie said that he was very interested in my work and that he wishes he was more like I am when he was here.  That made me cry, because of all the people who I would like to be like, it was him. He was content just being with all of us.  We were the source of his joy.

My Nonno was a gentle and kind spirit, who always thought of others before himself. He had a score of health issues, but you never heard him speak a word of them, nor did he ever indicate he was uncomfortable in any way. He was always grateful, and gracious. He worked hard all this life.  Even after he retired, he still continued to work hard on the house and the garden, and spent as much time as he could with us, his family.

Whenever we’ve had a reading with Jackie, he would remain in the background– until someone asks for him.  Then he gladly steps forward.  Jackie said when I asked for him, her people said, “oh, they want to talk to the quiet man.”  Quiet, selfless, and yet brighter than a bright star in the sky.  We will always love you , Nonno, and we will never forget what you taught us, just be being who you are.


~ by healingstarspirit on February 23, 2011.

2 Responses to “No one ever really dies”

  1. Thank you Nicole for sharing this story. My dad was the most gentle person you will ever, ever meet. Yes family meant everything and always came first to him as it does to me. I always wonder how is doing and hope it is better than the quiet misery he had to endure. He was happy just to be around and I hope he feels we all tried everything within our power to help him. Dad, until we meet again.


  2. Thank you for sharing this. My oldest sister transitioned on February 8th of this year. As a spiritual beings having a human experience, it has been a bit difficult for all of us to put her transition into perspective. It was so unexpected and we were all preparing for my mother who has Alzheimer’s to be the one to go. Your story has giving me a deeper perceptive and I am grateful to you. – Phyllis


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: