Guest Blog by author Elisa Medhus, MD
When my son, Erik, took his own life 4 years ago, naturally I was devastated, but 2 things made it worse: I’m a physician. Science taught me that something’s not real unless you could perceive it with your senses. Being raised by atheists didn’t help. These two things made it excruciatingly difficult to answer that important question: Where is my son? Is he anywhere at all?
Then something happened that changed everything. Three days after Erik’s death, I receive a call from my (very) atheist father. He sounded panicky, not characteristic of a trauma surgeon. He said he was sitting in his chair when suddenly there was Erik standing in front of him. Then, Erik turned into his little boy self and crawled into his lap. His whole paradigm fell apart.
After that, I did the only thing I knew what to do. I researched. I read books on quantum physics, alternate dimensions, near death experiences and more. Eventually I ran out of things to read. I had heard that many parents try mediums, usually out of desperation, to connect with their child, so I decided to give it a whirl, partly because I ran out of reading material and partly because I needed validation. I was far from shedding my skepticism. I tested several mediums but I only found two who were clearly gifted. Jamie Butler, for example, pegged Erik’s personality perfectly: his irreverent sense of humor, his mischievousness, and his sailor talk was all there. She was even able to verify things she couldn’t possibly know: that he was sitting at his desk when he died, that he used a gun, what kind of gun it was and even details about the clothing he was wearing at the time. Satisfied, I began to ask questions, personal ones at first like, “Why” then general ones about death, the afterlife, spirits and more.
Right after Erik’s death, family members reported receiving visits, pranks and signs from Erik, ones that defied explanation. Where were mine? After all, I’m his mother! Eventually, I was blessed with several visits. One in particular cracked my thick shell of skepticism. One night, I went to bed, turned off the light, and before I could even pull up the covers, there was Erik hopping from one foot of the bed to the next over and over. My deceased sister, Denise sat on the left side, grinning at him. I’m sure she was thinking, “You’re acting like a silly kid!” I was trying to digest it all. It seemed so surreal. Then suddenly, Erik turned his face to me and, completely startles, said, “Mom, you can see me.” He fell into my arms, and we had such a lovely hug. All too short, however.
As time passed, I started second guessing myself. Were that experience and the others that followed real? It took me 3 years to go from 0% to 90% sure. I just couldn’t take that leap to 100%. First, I didn’t’ know how. Second, I was afraid to believe with no doubts whatsoever? What if I did only to find out it was all a big lie? That would be like losing Erik again only this time forever. I couldn’t bear to go through that again. That said, this is not the wishful thinking of a grieving mother. So I dug in my heels until only 7 months ago when something happened that would catapult me to that 100% mark.
A member of my blog, Channeling Erik, said that she heard three voiced on one of the sessions Jamie and I recorded almost two years earlier. My first thought was, “What? I didn’t hear anyone during the live session and there was no one in the room! Still, I listened and sure enough, there were three voices. One of them was Erik’s. A mother knows the sound of her own son’s voce. Intrigued, I had a sound professional analyze it. He agreed that these were not human voices. For one, there were odd distortions in Erik’s voice, Second, one of three voices sounded like the person was whispering directly into the mic, but there was no one on the video. I think the most compelling evidence was the fact that the voices left no voce print, something that doesn’t happen with human voices. So, there I am, 100% sure and never going back.
My journey from skepticism to belief has been riddled with emotional potholes and detours, but I now find comfort in knowing that my son is not gone. He’s only shed his body like a suit of clothes, living in another dimension where he is happy and whole for the first time in his life. Love knows no boundaries, even death.
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