My favorite aunt died in July 2001, and since that time my cousins have had several experiences that have led them to believe that their mother checks in from time to time, letting them know that she's okay. I, too, have had a couple of experiences like this, including one that I documented in the story called "Sweet Reminder".
My aunt had very strong "knowings" about the survival of the soul after physical death, and the love that she felt towards her family would make it seem natural and even "appropriate" for her to maintain some type of contact. We all feel that she's busy in her new home--doing whatever her soul's work is to do--but her apparent communications, through dreams or through other means, are welcomed and appreciated by those of us who are left behind.
She grew up in central Virginia, in a house that was full of furniture that had been passed down through the generations. One of her favorite items in the homeplace was an antique hall tree--a combination chair, mirror, and coatrack. When the house was sold out of the family in 1991, my aunt acquired the hall tree and moved it to her home in Indiana.
After my aunt's death, my cousins had to figure out which one of them would become the new owner of the hall tree. They held a lottery, of sorts, to determine who would get it, and when the "winner" was determined, she took a picture of it, as it still sat in her mother's house. At the time, she didn't notice anything unusual, but when the roll of film was developed, my cousin realized that there was something a little odd about the reflection that showed up in the mirror.
Look closely at the reflection, and also notice how Maggie, the cat, seems to be looking at something....
Do you see the letter "A"?
Perhaps this is just an episode of "coincidence," but we like to think that it's another reminder from my aunt that life goes on--
A reminder from my aunt, "Alma."
(I also had an "A" experience: A bag full of soda cans bound for the recycling bin fell off a shelf in the basement, and the cans spilled out to form the letter "A" on the laundry room floor. While it struck me as odd and I wondered, at the time, if it was my aunt's doings, I now regret that I didn't take a picture--especially after seeing the "A" in the hall tree mirror!)