Proof That There’s Internet in Heaven

23 Apr

Jeff Swimming with the Sea Lions in the Galapagos

Years before my brother Jeff died, I developed a deep craving for clues to what happens after we die.  The fascination skyrocketed during my hospice social worker years.  At that time, my search for proof of life beyond this one even brought me to a few meetings of a Near Death Experience (NDE) group in Canton, MA (of all places).  The accounts were amazing and compelling and irrefutably convincing and the take-home message from near death experiencers was this: When we die, we’re encapsulated in nothing but light and love.   Whatever that means, but I really love the sound of it.

Sure, when I was in the room with these experiencers, or when my hospice families recounted story after story of a dying loved one talking to deceased relatives in the days leading up to death, I was starry-eyed with belief.  But it never took long for the romantic notion of a light and love-filled afterlife to lose its grip and for my rational, analytic tendencies to debunk everything I’d heard.

Fast forward ten years to when Jeff died tragically and suddenly.   What was once a peripheral, conceptual fascination with the afterlife became as personal as it gets.  I NEEDED to know where my brother is, or that he “is” at all, now that he certainly isn’t with us anymore.  And two and a half weeks after he died I received a pretty stunning answer to that question.

After cocooning and wrapping tightly around each other for the first couple weeks after Jeff died, my family slowly started to disband from my parent’s vacation home in New Hampshire, all of us play acting at putting one foot in front of another, in some surreal attempt to return to our lives.  After everyone else left, I decided I wasn’t quite ready to leave, not yet prepared to leave the place where I last saw my brother.   So I lingered a couple days longer in New Hampshire.

The afternoon that everyone left, I was REALLY alone for the first time since Jeff had died.  I found myself slumped in the driveway, sobbing, in the same place where I had my last and deeply tender conversation with Jeff.   And in that alone moment, I begged, pleaded with him to reveal something, anything, to me about where he lived now.  I whined to him “I can’t feel you, I can’t sense you, where the ____ are you?”  I asked him, point blank, to send me an irrefutable message so there’d be no confusion.  I practically demanded of him to let me know that he wasn’t as far away and permanently GONE as he felt.

That same evening my brother Kevin drove back from his home in Maine to stay overnight with me. I was a little too spooked by the idea of being alone after all.  Kevin and I sank into our respective couches, the same spots where we’d huddled as a family for the prior 17 days.   If you’ve been blessed to never experience a profound death, then the phenomenon of needing to escape the pain by doing absurd but routine things once in a while, might seem strange and bordering on crass.  If you have experienced a profound loss then it might not surprise you that this evening with Kevin was the second time in the two and half weeks since Jeff died that I found myself on the Apple.com website (yes, THAT ubiquitous Apple, the computer company).  A few days earlier I’d been on the website researching a laptop computer for my mom.   This night, with Kevin, I was back on the Apple website, researching an ipod for him.   Retail therapy.  (Aside: I’m pleased to report that though it took some convincing, we are now an entirely Apple family.)

Before I go on with the story, I need to get into a few technical details but trust me, they’re pivotally relevant to the message from Jeff that I was about to receive.   The Apple website is no longer set up this way, but two and a half years ago it was set up so that once you logged in to your Apple account, you’d stay logged in permanently until you went through a few (not very obvious) steps to log out.   You had to really make a serious effort to log out.  And once logged in, you’d see a friendly “Welcome, Kyle” every time you went to the website, even if weeks went by between visits to the site, without needing to log in again.   And earlier that week, when I was on the website researching the laptop for my mom, sure enough there was the reliable “Welcome, Kyle” message waiting for me.

But on this night, sitting in the living room with Kevin, debating how many gigabytes he should get for his new iPod, returning to the Apple site to settle the question, a life-changing message was waiting for me instead.

When I opened the apple page, where four days before it said “Welcome, Kyle”, this night it said “Welcome JEFFREY.”

As chills ran through my body, and I flashed back to five hours earlier when I was sobbing outside, begging Jeff for a sign to let me know he’s around and that he’s okay, I stuttered to Kevin, who was sitting on the couch adjacent to mine, “Oh my god.  What the hell?  Why does it say “Welcome JEFFREY” on my computer?   Kevin looked at my computer and we both just sat there in total shock.

Kevin shares my proclivity for disbelief and cynicism so in a matter of seconds our minds tried desperately to create a rational explanation for what was happening.  The most obvious culprit would be if Jeff had been on my computer before he died.  Trust me when I say that there’s NO WAY my brother was on my computer before he died (the proof for this is too personal to share here) and even if he’d tried he wouldn’t have been able to get on since I had a password set up.  Not to mention that since he’d died I’d already been on the site and it had said “Welcome Kyle”, just days earlier.   The only other possibility was an amazing coincidence that somewhere else in cyberspace someone named Jeffrey was logging in and somehow that had shown up on my computer.  But seriously has that EVER happened to me or you before? (If it has, don’t tell me about it.)

After calling my mom, who quickly got my sister-in-law on the phone with us, and reporting what just happened, they encouraged me to just savor this unbelievable (literally unbelievable) message and GIFT.   My mom’s always been better at faith than I am.

After getting off the phone, the poetry and beauty of the combination of the words “Welcome” with my brother’s full birth name “Jeffrey” started to really hit me.  Was he saying that he’d been Welcomed to another world and that the use of his birth name was a reflection of the fact that he was now healed and whole again?  Was he saying that we should Welcome him into the space with us here and now because that’s where he’ll be from now on, in the space with US?!

For the rest of that evening, I was nearly giddy from such a surreal experience; I was filled with Jeff’s presence.  For the first time in 17 days I was reminded, however fleeting it felt, that there would be some unspecified time in the future, when it didn’t feel like I was living inside a nightmare.  Sadly, by morning my tenaciously analytic mind had taken over again and what happened the night before felt like a mirage.   Once I came down off of my high, I also realized that heavenly cyber communication would never be a sufficient replacement for my brother.

Yet, my pesky science-based mind aside, the experience forever instilled somewhere in my psyche the possibility that Jeff is in fact very nearby.   Even when I try, it’s pretty hard for me now to deny the possibility that there is a life beyond this one. And every once in a long while, like the other day on Storrow Drive, for no particular reason, my ego mind and all its skeptic parts do me the great favor of letting my soul take the reigns for a few minutes.  And for just a few minutes I get to reconnect on the purest level with the undeniable connection I felt to Jeff that night.

So Jeff, if you wouldn’t mind, and I know I’m being greedy here but I’d REALLY appreciate it if you could send another sign sometime soon – I could seriously use a refresher.  And I sure as hell hope that those near-death experiencers are spot on; the only peace I can come to about your death is that you were able to exchange your deep suffering for nothing but pure light and love.   Well, that or you get to swim with the sea lions every day for eternity.    Because if I remember correctly, seeing you swim with them on that family vacation so long ago was kind of what I imagine someone bathing in pure light and love looks like.


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10 Responses to “Proof That There’s Internet in Heaven”

  1. Estelle May 12, 2010 at 11:08 pm #

    You write so well! Two quick questions:
    Did you get another sign which you thought was from your brother?
    Have you considered the historical account of Jesus’ Resurrection (in the Bible) and how it affects our after-life?

    I’m of the conviction that one human being cannot force another human being to believe in – for example – Jesus (even though I could not live now, nor after death without my Saviour and Lord and Friend, Jesus)

    I’m also of the conviction that as we are not mind-readers no human being can ultimately talk with certainty of the deceased’s condition in the after-life.

    Oh how I understand that yearning, yearning to communicate with your brother – as we also long for our son. Your post on the memory-sharing is really important.

    Your posts are interesting!

  2. Leigh June 8, 2010 at 10:55 pm #

    Hi my friend Maureen sent me to your blog. I lost my brother Ash(he was 31) to suicide 5/30/09. This entry and the photo of Jeff swimming was absolutely amazing.. That just lifted my spirits so much. I am still waiting for a sign from my big brother Ash. I know he’ll tell me something someday.
    Thank you,
    Leigh (26)

    • cloud9stuff June 9, 2010 at 11:10 pm #

      Hi Leigh, Thank you so much for your note. I’m very, very sorry to hear about your brother Ash. May 2009 is so recent and I’m guessing that the grief is still so raw. I very much hope and believe that he’ll send you a sign when the time is right. In the meantime, I choose to believe that both our brothers are with us all the time even if we can’t feel them. Still doesn’t compare to having them alive, but I try to take comfort in the thought of Jeff’s presence surrounding me. I’m wishing you peace ahead and signs from above. Love, Kyle

  3. ellen brodsky June 12, 2010 at 10:37 am #

    Thank you Kyle. I have been reading and loving your posts. They are so full of love and light and wisdom.

    • kim December 6, 2010 at 9:20 am #

      hey kyle,

      kim here, i was just wondering. If there is an internet in Heaven can we send our relatives e-mails and messages through the internet. If yes, please indicate how :((

      im really depressed now. cause my grandfather 6 yrs ago. And since then I haven’y experience a deep depression until now. He was always there for me letting me know what to do. So i was hoping that though I can’t get a reply from him, I really want to send him a message. Help me please :((

      • cloud9stuff December 13, 2010 at 3:56 am #

        Hi Kim,

        Thanks for writing Kim. I’m so sorry to hear about your depression and your longing for your grandfather. Oh, how I wish there was a way to send an email to my brother in heaven! But I don’t know of any magic. The closest thing I can think of is to just write to him in my journal and hope that somehow he “hears” me. I hope that you have friends or family that you can share your feelings with. I know how painful it is to lose someone you love so much. Missing someone is one of the hardest experiences I think. I’m wishing peace for you Kim and that you find support. Love, Kyle

  4. Marica November 9, 2012 at 10:16 am #

    “Love and Light” .. I’ve heard this expression before but for some reason it just never really registered with me until I read this post. I am now almost 66 years old and am about to share with you an event in my life that took place 46 years ago. I was 19 years old and very sick. Doctors didn’t know what was wrong and were about to do an emergency exploratory surgery. This was done on a Saturday morning before Easter Sunday April 10, 1966 @ The University of Iowa Hospitals. I KNEW I was close to death because an old doctor who made rounds with my surgeons stood at the foot of my bed on Friday and demanded to know WHY they hadn’t done surgery. When one said they planned to operate on Monday, the old doctor told them that if they waited they wouldn’t have a patient to do surgery on. I was too sick to be fearful, and in fact felt quite at peace. I didn’t expect to survive. All that worried me was that my two babies, a 2 yr old daughter and 9 mo. old son would grow up without me, and for them I felt sad. When I woke up on Sunday morning (remember, this was Easter Sunday) my first thought was.. This isn’t hell, and it sure isn’t heaven. I was a bit confused about where I was. You see, my last memories of the world I lived in were of being high above the operating table at my feet and to the right of my body. I was looking down on the OR staff who were frantically doing all sorts of things and seemed to be quite distressed. I tried to call to them that I was OK, but they didn’t hear me. And so I turned and followed a brilliant white light… and then I was enveloped in the most loving place I had ever experienced… robed forms, of which I could not see faces surrounded me .. they were in all shapes and sizes.. from might have been small children to adults. I was greeted, welcomed, and then told I could not remain.. that it was not time yet. That I had to return.. “To care for the children”. It was several months before I learned that in fact I had been briefly lost on that operating table. I once thought the message “to care for the children”, meant my children, but throughout my life since I have found myself time and time again in situations where I have provided care for one after another of God’s children.
    Anyway.. “LOVE & LIGHT” I now realize is exactly what I experienced.. although I experienced the Light and then the Love.
    and so to those of you wondering about your loved ones, I BELIEVE my experience was very real. I BELIEVE I had an opportunity to glimps what lies beyond.. at least enough to assure others this life is not all their is. Enough to be able to tell you the Light & Love is very real, and that once there you do NOT want to return. You do not feel sadness or worry. Those left behind will be reunited with you and there is no doubt.
    I am not a religious person, rarely attend church, but believe in GOD, and accept Jesus knowing HE is my Savior.
    I have been with a number of people in their last breath of life, and never have I felt sad for them as they departed this life. Sad for myself yes.. but never have I wished anyone to return even for one minute… I could not bare to see them suffer another moment.
    To the young woman who lost her brother to suicide, know that he was in such great pain he only wanted to escape the pain.. his death was not intended to hurt anyone. And to the author who loast a brother, Yes, he is with you. Continue to keep him in your thoughts and speak of him as you recall the special times with you. This pleases him. To the young gir who lost her Grandfather, he too is near… his messages to let you know he is there no doubt come in some simple little thing you shared with him in life. My children find a coin on the ground and remember my Dad because he would always toss coins on the floor for them to find. No, he isn’t dropping pennies from heaven, but this is what allows them to connect with him and helps keep their memories of him ever present.
    Those you love, and many more will be there to greet you when it is your time to make the journey from here to there.

  5. Sharon Randall October 17, 2013 at 11:27 am #

    This about Jeffrey has given me a lot of peace this morning..as my oldest brother died at age 54 and when sleepy, at the computer in early morning one day, I thought I heard his voice speaking to me. I’ve had strange dreams since the day he was found on the floor in his home. I still don’t know if he committed suicide. At least, my youngest brother has survived after 78 days of hospitalization. He is said to have two months left to live without an expensive liver transplant. The brother who died had proclaimed himself to be an atheist to our family’s dismay growing up with him, so I wondered after his death. I think his spirit survived somewhere very close by to here. I remember reading about Rev. Pike’s son years ago communicating with his father after death out there in Arizona, I believe it was, and his father said to the news people that he was just in a dimension without solid objects. Some scientists agree these days that we just go from one dimension to another until we reach the Eighth one. I don’t know. I believe in God and Heaven. I do believe people on the other side may communicate with us living here on Earth occasionally trying to help us. Thank you so much for your post!!!

    • kylefreestyle October 19, 2013 at 12:29 am #

      Hi Sharon,

      Thanks so much for sharing your story. And I’m very sorry to hear about the brother you lost, and that your other brother is so ill. So so sorry. And I too, took comfort in your words. The idea of dimensions really made sense to me, and I’ve never quite thought of it in those terms. Sending love and peace your way, Kyle

  6. Cynthia M. Wiese-Martin aka Cheezy Weezy September 23, 2015 at 9:12 am #

    You have moved me to tears! I believe Angels have always been at our disposal when asked to bring a much needed “Spiritual Connection” from beyond to “Human Life”. My faith tells me Jeffrey is your Angel and is always watching over you. Therefore, in my experiences of grief, Angels ” Messengers” are REAL and could be described as the internet connection you speak of. Best of all, Communication with Angels Does Not require a materialistic computer or password.

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