We Do Not Die

By David Gilmore

April 30, 2006

Good morning!

I have been casting about trying to think of the appropriate way to begin the process of sharing ideas about this subject with you. What thing to say would be a comfortable way to start? So this is what I came up with.

“I” am not the thing you see in front of you this morning. “I” am much more than this.

“You” are not the thing I see in front of me. You are not (so-and-so).

And this may come as something of a shock, but “that” is not Bruce Johnson sitting over there.

In fact, these are nothing more than a pile of interacting chemicals temporarily occupied by something else. Something that has always existed, and always will exist. For all “time”.

Now, before the sideways glances start, or if you’re thinking, “Oy! What happened to Gilmore?”, I’m going to ask that you bear with me. Because, what’s happened is that I think I have come to understand something. Something that I didn’t “get” before: the concept that I previously called “death”.

I’m the science department chairman at Platt High School in Meriden, where I advocate hands-on learning opportunities for kids. I’ve found that the most effective way to get young people to learn biology, chemistry, physics, geology, or astronomy is through hands-on, active learning. I don’t think we can ever fully understand something unless we actually experience it hands-on, and I have not had the “death” or “near-death” experience happen to me. I haven’t had this kind of personal, been there, done that, learning opportunity. Now Thomas, he’s another matter. Like you, I heard his story again last week when my Dad and I attended his Catholic church service at Saint Paul’s in Leesburg Florida. Thomas had to literally have the hands-on learning opportunity in order to believe Jesus was alive!

What I have had is an unusually large number of loved ones in my immediate family pass, or cross over, in a relatively short period of time. In fact, in one instance, two on the same day. But more about that in a moment.

So, what happened?

On February 9, 2004, my mother Betty “died” at age 74 of pneumonia. I was present when she crossed, as was my younger brother and sister, and my Dad. And at that point in time all I understood was that my Mother was “there” in the hospital bed at one moment and in another moment she was seemingly “gone”, and the decades of our link with her were ended. The string of losses had begun.

On October 11, 2004 my 19-year-old orange tabby feline son, Kweli, AND my 14-year-old golden retriever daughter Annie BOTH crossed over on the same day. By the way, Kweli had been named after one of the primate characters in Diane Fossey’s book, “Gorillas in the Mist”. On November 22 2004 my 17-year-old silver tabby son Starfleet, whom I called “Star”, crossed over. And on May 31, 2005, my 4-year-old Scottish Highland steer son Quentin “died”. My Mom, my daughter, and three of my sons. Yes, in our household, our animals are our children. Because of the close proximity of the losses, I did not have a chance to progress through the grieving process before I experienced another crushing loss.

I don’t think I could talk with you about the outrage now. The anger with God. Real, deep, hate-filled anger. This thing we call language breaks down at the point of trying to describe the experience of this many deaths of this many loved ones in this concentrated a period of time. There just . . . aren’t . . . words. And there weren’t for many months. I just kept looking toward heaven and crying out to God, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

But now the anger is gone. It has been replaced. In its place now, is anticipation. Love. Thankfulness. And . . . longing. You see, what I’ve come to discover is that they . . . are not dead. I mean REALLY not dead! Not at all.

Now, as a science person I have always been one of those “gotta see the proof” kind of guys. But over the past several years I’ve become . . . different, because of what I‘ve been through. And I’d like to share this with you.

We struggle with death so hard. We avoid dealing with it. We’re in denial about it. For the survivors there can be such excruciating PAIN associated with death. It is often said to be the final, biggest issue we have to grapple with. For many, it is, and it can take a long time to “settle” with it, as it did for me. But that‘s because we need to be understanding “death“ as something different than what our culture has conditioned us to think it is. Once we do, we see that it is NOT the biggest real issue. And in fact, until we do, our capacity to deal with the biggest issue . . . LIVING . . . is diminished. What I have experienced, what has occurred and continues to occur while trying to go on living has transformed me. It’s turned me into one of those guys who says, “Look, there is no other possible explanation for what just happened.” In a way the experiences I have had have been like spiritual extensions of deductive reasoning. Like if someone gave you a math problem saying, “Two plus something equals four.” Well, it has to be “two” that fits there. It just has to be.

What I’ve come to discover, believe, and know, is that WE DON’T DIE.

And I have proof.

So here are the events that have occurred. These things happened, just as I am about to describe. I will not embellish them. When they began to happen, I had to sit up and pay attention. I had to say, “What the... there is no way that all these things could suddenly occur, unless . . .” This may at first sound disjointed, unconnected. But taken as a whole, these events mean a whole new perspective for me.

Sandi and I have had a lot of animals. In 1989, on the night that I witnessed an aurora borealis for the first time, we took in a feral gray short-haired female cat who we named Aurora, after that beautiful celestial event. In 2003 one spring afternoon, Aurora “died”. That night we witnessed an aurora borealis again. Those are the only two times in my life I have seen auroras. Now, I took that to have some spiritual significance.

In summer of ’03 Sandi’s 20-year-old Abyssinian cat Camille was coming down the stairs and one of the dogs snapped at her, breaking her jaw on the right side of her face. The wound slowly began to heal, but Camille “passed away” a couple of months later from kidney failure. An animal communicator we contacted, who had never met Camille, and to whom we had said nothing except that she had crossed over, told us a couple of weeks later that Camille was fine, that Sandi needed to “let her go”, and that the right side of her face still hurt. The instant I heard that, I snapped to a peak of attention.

In 1995 we lost a 20-pound long-haired orange feline fluff ball named Mick, whom I had named after the feisty police character Mick Belker, played by the actor Bruce Weitz on the 80's cop series “Hill Street Blues”. Mick used to show his affection toward me by leaping up onto my chest, putting his two front paws around my neck, and rubbing his face against my face, neck, and ears. In 2004 I was told by an animal communicator that Mick is doing fine, but that he really missed hugging me. Again, the moment she said that, I knew for certain . . . that reality is different from what I’d always taken for granted it was.

So I began to do some reading: death, life, and life after death, steering away from the silly tabloid stuff and sticking to substantial, serious writers. George Anderson, Sylvia Browne, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, Brian Weiss. Each of these writers asserted that death is not what we have been conditioned to think it is. Several of them present very compelling histories of their encounters with the spirits of those that have crossed over: both their own loved ones and those of friends, acquaintances, and clients. And Anderson, Browne, and Weiss have relayed specific messages that have contained information about names and events that they simply could not have had access to unless they had been able to reach the deceased. Further, they assert that anyone can do this if you are open to the concept and willing to approach the effort with a calm, peaceful technique.

Here is the way I have done it.

I began to try this in spring of 2005, when desperation at the departure of so many of my family had sunk me to a very low place. While in a relaxed, restful frame of mind, I spoke aloud to my Mom, on another occasion to Annie, on another to Mick, then to Kweli, to Starfleet, and to Quentin. I told them that I love them, that I miss them here, and I asked them to send me a sign that they were OK. For Annie, Kweli, Mick, Starfleet, and Quentin, I did this while at home. A day or two after I spoke to Annie and Starfleet, I was standing at the discharge counter at a local vet, where I spend too much time, as one client related to me the story of her ailing dog. At the end of the story, at my inquiry, she told me her dog’s name. It was Annie. Moments later, while standing there, a client talking to a vet tech mentioned something about her cat . . . . . . Star.

At some point during the next few weeks while starting off another conversation with Kate, the animal communicator, without telling her anything about Annie, Kate (in contact with Annie at that moment) said, “Annie was a blond, wasn’t she?” She was indeed, a golden retriever. Kate could not have known this unless she was seeing Annie.

The day after I asked Mick to send me a sign that he was OK, I was watching a bit of TV and saw on screen the actor Bruce Weitz: “Mick Belker” on Hill Street Blues.

The day after I asked Quentin for a sign, I was driving through Willimantic and came upon a van that was marked Quentin’s Plumbing and Heating. A few days after I asked Kweli for a sign, I stumbled across the movie “Gorillas in the Mist” on TV. This exact same phenomenon was repeated earlier this month four days after again talking to Kweli.

In August of 2005 I visited my father again at his home in Florida. I slept in my Mom’s old room, in her old bed. The first night there, just before going to sleep, I spoke to my Mom. I asked her for a sign that she was OK. The next day I got on the Internet on my Dad’s computer and logged on to my email account. I had received an email that said, “ Dear Betty, Hope you made it over here OK. I think you’ll like the area.” It was signed by someone whose name I did not recognize, through an online fan club of the author James Herriot to which I belong. I read it, and said, out loud, “Oh... my... God.” It had happened again.

A week-and-a-half ago while in Florida with my Dad again, I again spoke to my Mom before sleeping on the first night there, hoping she would send me another message. And that night, I wondered whether my steer Quentin was OK, but said to myself that it would be asking a bit much for both of them to communicate with me. The next afternoon at the surgeon’s office, the receptionist gave us a card with information on who my Dad should contact at the hospital before his surgery. The woman’s name? . . . . Betty. A big grin appeared on my face! When we left we stopped at a video store to rent some movies. As I was browsing I saw that many copies of one particular film were gone from the shelf. The only things left in their place were numerous stickers with the name of the star of the film... Quentin Tarantino. Another big grin!

Now, you may say, “So what?" But, I feel blessed to have had this happen. Think about this: In instance after instance, I had been presented with the name of the crossed-over loved one, or the source from which the name had been borne, the day after I asked for a sign. This, combined with everything I have read and seen and heard, was too many occurrences to be chalked up to coincidence. I concluded that there was no way all this could have happened unless they had heard me. They were alive somewhere. Somewhere within earshot of me. Their consciousnesses continue to exist.

I feel that God has been saying to me, “Hey! Don’t you get it? They are alive! They’re over here! They were with you on that side for a while, to teach you something. Once you had learned it, it was time for them to come back to my side for a while. Or, once it was evident that their physical bodies were wearing out and you just weren’t going to learn it while they were there physically with you, I decided they had been through enough. So I brought them home. Maybe by now you’ve gotten another lesson from it. They’re all over here, waiting. When you are done with what you have to do, you’ll get to be with them again. Unless, of course, you don’t learn what I need you to learn down there, and have to make you do it over again.”

And then this concept hit me: God’s promise of everlasting life with him. It fits! Jesus shows us the way, and we follow. He said we would have life everlasting. And so, there it is! Our challenge is this: we have got to stop thinking of “life” as merely this physical part of our existence! We have got to start thinking of our loved ones as the spiritual beings that have been with us and will be with us in perpetuity. The term “dying” . . . really does not fit. “Dying” implies an end. We are being challenged to start using the term “crossing over”. Because they did not “die”. No one does. “O death, where is thy victory?” takes on a real, factual meaning! Jesus said, “I am the light of the world”? Why do you think everyone who returns from a partially completed crossing-over experience (a “near-death” experience“) reports that they were moving toward the light? While clinically, physically “dead”, their souls were alive, moving toward Jesus!

I once asked Bruce, “Why does there have to be death?” The answer now is clear: there is no death. We go through a process at some point, so that we can cross over. Why else could people like Kate Kennedy or George Anderson consistently, reliably, accurately relay information, using their gifts, to and from crossed-over souls in real time?

Even the science of quantum physics, the study of subatomic particles, is now suggesting that there may be alternate universes, alternate planes of existence. Perhaps that is where our loved ones are. Living, but at a new address. Einstein said E = mc². It could be that our matter ultimately turns into a pure energy (light maybe?) that exists on the other side!

When I realized all this, and when I’d had these experiences, it removed what I had felt had been a tremendous burden: There is no reason to fear the loss of a loved one. We may say, “Well, I’ve lost them from this life!" My reply is, “No! We’ve been provided with the opportunity to change the way we interact with them!" We may say, “Well, yes, but they are physically not with me now!" My reply is, “We are only thinking of them as the wrapper. The wrapper has been discarded! They are not just that physical presence. ‘I' am not just the thing you see in front of you.“ And so there is no reason to fear the “loss” of our own lives. In fact, when we get over there we’re going to get to be overwhelmed with the presence of ALL the loved ones who have already made it there. My understanding is that it will be a moment of incredible joy for them. Because the final barrier to our being completely with them will be down. And thank God, because I’m not going anywhere without my animals!

As Bruce noted in the May church call in his reference to Reverend Coffin, crossing over is a dawning. Crossing over cannot be something to be feared when it brings us to a different phase of our lives. Understanding what crossing over really is, can teach us about the real issue. The real issue is how do we have our capacity to love, while on THIS side, not be devastated when someone we love makes it to THAT side! Can you imagine how different things would be if we were all taught this mindframe about the eventual end of our physical existence from a very young age? But for right now, how can we live with the physical absence of our loved ones? By re-tuning the way we think about “death”. By changing our paradigm about it. THAT is our challenge.

So . . . I am NOT what you see in front of you. I am more than this. You are NOT what I see in front of me. You are more than that.

I think about the wearing out of this pile of interacting chemicals this way: ALL our loved ones, all who have finished with what they were physically present for on this side:

THEY ARE ALL STILL HERE.

RIGHT NOW.

IN THIS ROOM WITH US.

AND WE CAN REACH THEM. AND THEY CAN REACH US. WE HAVE TO OPEN OUR MINDS AND OUR HEARTS TO THE IDEA. EXPECT THE MESSAGE TO COME IN A POSSIBLY UNIQUE MANNER. WE CAN DO THIS. IF WE WANT TO. I BELIEVE THEY WANT TO. THEY WANT TO REASSURE US. THEY ARE FINE. THEY ARE IN JOY, IN PEACE. THEY... ARE... HERE. THEY... ARE... ALIVE!

Amen.