DTH

Have you ever asked someone (who later passed away) to give you proof of an afterlife? For example, a word/gesture that only you two would know. And did you get the proof?

Kathy Roberts, Writer (1980-present)

Updated Sun · Upvoted by Jeremi Shearon, Assistant Manager at Casey's General Stores (2017-present)

In 2002, my partner died suddenly. She stood up and fell. The doctor in the ER told me she had passed before she hit the floor.

I was completely numb from the loss. I felt like there was nothing below my feet and I was in free fall. The day of the funeral came and my home was still filled with family. I hadn’t slept in days.

My house was “the home of the future” in 1953. It was a mid-century modern home with floor to ceiling windows around the top floor. (You entered through the basement/family room and went upstairs to the main living area) The windows made it feel like a tree house. It was situated on a lot at the end of a cul de sac. The house was inside the city limits but it backed onto a wooded area. It felt very secluded.

The backyard was on the upper level and had a koi pond. Several months before Sue’s death, she called down to me to tell me the biggest cat she’d ever seen was in the back. I said, “Huh, that’s barely interesting,” and went on with my work. (Our office was in the downstairs family room). She said again, “You should come up here and see this cat. It’s really gigantic.” Again, I was dismissive because, well, a big cat wasn’t that interesting to me. Finally, she said, “Please come up and look at this cat.” So, up I came. Sue wasn’t wearing her glasses. The giant cat she was looking at was really a beautiful fox. We never saw it again.

On the morning of her funeral, before anyone else was up, I said aloud, “Sue, if you’re still here with me, please show me that fox again.” I looked out back and nothing was there. I felt so alone and so despondent. I walked to the front of the house and my two cats, George and Gracie, were both sitting on the dining room table (don’t judge me) with their tails swishing back and forth in unison. They were staring intently at something. The front of the house was the second story and it looked out to the street. I followed their gaze to the driveway where a fox was sitting serenely. As soon as I saw it, it stood up and walked slowly down the middle of the street until it disappeared out of sight. I never saw it again.

It was one of the most beautiful, touching moments of my life.