Prior to August 8th 2012, I was a physician practicing hematology and medical oncology, and, as with most men of science, trained to be forever skeptical. After August 8th 2012, I remain a physician and, as the inevitable consequence of living in medicine for over 30 years, continue to carefully examine, question and cautiously conclude, my nature bent towards doubt until that in question is properly proven.
On August 8th 2012, my beautiful wife of 15 years, Julie, suddenly and unexpectedly passed. She choked, and I found her about 30 minutes thereafter, my estimation of the time of her passing based upon her body temperature and lack of rigor mortis.
I am still a man of science, forever questioning. I believe what I see and I question what I cannot. I make observations and logically link observations with observations and, with reason acceptable to the scientific method, draw conclusions. That which I can perceive exists; that which I cannot may or may not exist.
Following August 8th, I repeatedly encountered phenomena that defy the rules of physics, at least physics as we know it in our world. At first, I was perplexed by such odd occurrences that suggested that my wife was communicating to me, but when the posterior of Julie’s urn, which has no back panel as the sides of the urn are a single block of wood, spontaneously opened revealing the inner by red velvet lining and her white ashes within, I witnessed what I did not believe. Doors do not open where there are no doors; sealed walls simply do not unseal themselves.
On March 14th 2013, I visited with Elizabeth Palin over the phone, a session arranged and paid for by a wonderful friend who suffered a major loss 10 years ago and has met with almost every world renowned psychic. But it was Elizabeth she referred me to, and, beyond my first name, Elizabeth had no idea who I was.
Well, Elizabeth had no idea who I was until the moment she was on the phone with me and recited salient details of my life that only –other than myself – my wife, Julie, knows and in words and expressions characteristically used by Julie.
After enigmatically identifying that I am a physician and that Julie was a nurse, that I have one son and one step-son, that I had three dogs, that Julie and I enjoyed three cruises, that Julie wanted to visit France and specifics of my daily activities in precise detail, Elizabeth then described the room where I found Julie on that dreadful day, how I found Julie and what I did subsequently upon finding Julie, who, Elizabeth reassured me, suffered no pain.
The fixed and vacant stare of the immobile eyes that once belonged to my wife upon my finding her is indelibly lodged in my memory, and I have prayed daily for that image, which haunted me day and night, to disappear. Elizabeth, without intimation by me as if she could see my thoughts, told me, through Julie, to disregard that image, which Elizabeth emphasized was not that of my wife but something else – that Julie was just above me watching as I repeatedly compressed a lifeless chest with my right hand, called 911 with my left and desperately exhaled upon unbreathing blue lips slightly agape.
The possibility that Elizabeth’s accurate account of that ghastly day – which is the solitary demarcation that separates a life of love and hope from the despair and isolation in the months that followed – is due to chance is an impossibility. The particulars spoken by Elizabeth are simply too particular, the details simply too detailed, the specifics simply too specific.
Julie is my life, and without Julie, I have no life. But on March 14th 2013, a 30 minute session with Elizabeth Palin made me realize that I still have Julie, that Julie is with me and watching me, that Julie is all that she is and even more for Julie now exists in a far more beautiful existence saturated in love and where she awaits my arrival for a joining of unprecedented intimacy that shall last for eternity and that shall be my life, which is Julie.
I know so because Elizabeth told me so.
Douglas R. Jones, M.D.