Have you ever experienced double vision? It’s a medical condition called diplopia where you see two images of the same thing. In my last blog post, I shared with you a vision that I had of my late wife Ann Marie. In this post, I want to tell you about my mother’s vision of Ann, which amazingly happened around the same time as mine.

After I had my experience, I called my mom, and during our catch-up chat, I told her what I saw. Mom listened and did not seem to be very surprised by my story. She was no stranger to visions. When she was a little girl, she saw her grandfather shortly after he passed away. Then she said, “You know, it’s funny that you should tell me about this, because I had a dream about Ann recently, and it was very strange.”

I asked her to tell me about it, and this is a paraphrase of what she said: “I dreamed that I was standing next to Ann alongside a big bed. I don’t remember there being anything else around but the bed—no room, no background. Ann was flicking a sheet over the bed, the way you would do it if you were trying to spread the sheet across the bed. I remember wondering why she was doing that.”

I asked Mom to describe the sheet. She said, “It was a really pretty pattern, very unusual for a sheet. It was a tropical pattern, with palm fronds on it and lots of pastel colors—yellow, pink, orange, purple. To me, it looked too pretty to be on a bed. So, I asked her if she might hang it on a wall like a tapestry. Well, as soon as I spoke to her, the dream vanished. I had no idea why she was flicking the sheet like she did. It was strange, but all the while I felt a strong sense of peace around her, and I was left with a feeling like everything was going to be okay.”

Mom didn’t know it at the time, but while she was describing the sheet, the hair on my arms was standing up and my eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure about the pattern?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “I remember it very well because it was so pretty. Why?”

“Because as we’re talking, I’m in my bedroom looking down at a comforter on my bed with the exact same pattern you just described.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, and it’s the same one I was using when I had my vision of her. Could what you saw have been a comforter?”

“It could have been, yes. I just thought it was a sheet because of the pattern.”

“Want me to text over a picture of it?”

Mom declined. She said she’d be too freaked out if it was a match.

“Can you remember the date of this dream?” I asked. “Could it have been on the morning of March 8, the date of my vision?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I should have written it down. I often do that when I have an unusual dream like this. I suppose it could have been then, or right around then.”

We talked some more and then hung up. My analytical mind spent the rest of the night trying to link our two visions. If they did happen around the same time, did my mom see Ann Marie trying to wake me up by flicking the comforter off me? Mom didn’t see me under it, but she was paying more attention to Ann and to the pattern. Ann eventually woke me up in my vision by sending me a text with a picture of a golden astronaut. Maybe, at first, she was trying to get my attention by playing with the comforter. It certainly would be like her to do that. Did my mom catch a glimpse of her toying with me?

The next morning, I texted Mom and asked her again if she could remember the date of her dream. She couldn’t recall, but she said to go ahead and send her a photo of the comforter’s pattern. I did, and several minutes later, she replied with “OMG!”

Since the dream was now a bit fuzzy in her memory, she didn’t know if the pattern was a 100% exact match, but from what she could recall, all the colors were right, and the palm frond pattern was also correct. Mind you, she had never seen this comforter. Yet her description matched it exactly.

Mom really loved Ann Marie. Perhaps Ann was like a daughter she never had. And Ann, having lost her own mother to breast cancer when Ann was only in her twenties, felt like my mom was a second one to her. Mom said she was really hit hard with losing Ann Marie. Maybe that strong attachment is why God allowed her catch a glimpse of Ann, just before He let Ann show herself—healed, strong, and happy—to me.

The connection within this “double vision” has been fun to think about, but in the end it’s not as important as the overall message—that Ann Marie is healed, is doing fine, and that the rest of us are going to be alright. My mom felt the same message while she watched Ann playing with our colorful comforter. And whenever I feel despair knocking on the door of my heart, I return to these visions as a reminder: Ann said that I’m going to be okay, and God tells me the same thing. That’s no surprise…she’s right there next to Him. 

Moving On

Life goes forward here on planet Earth. I’m happy to report that I am healing, moving on, and looking with expectant hope toward my future. 2023 is a year of healing and transition for me. Picking up the pieces of my life has been…well, it’s been tough. You have days where you feel like crawling under a rock and staying there, and then you have days where you feel ready to take on the world. It’s a strange rollercoaster. The lows come from leftover sadness, loneliness, and depression. The highs are a gift from God. When we give it to Him—and I mean all of it—He fills us with the strength we need for one more day. His promises are good and trustworthy, and He dares us to trust them. When you do, you find new meaning, new vision, and new life.

Project Eden Update

Now for a brief update on Project Eden. The manuscript is finished. I still owe my fellow Edenites some sample chapters, which I will post on the website in the coming days. Follow this blog, because I will announce that here.

I’m back to looking for a publisher. If none are interested, I will find a way to self-publish. I’ve worked too hard on this project to accept No’s. I’m also still developing a new digital format that will make Planet of Eden a truly immersive reading experience. So, stay tuned for more on that.

Project Eden is still going, friends—like its author. I’ve had a few major setbacks, but I’ve learned that setbacks are God’s setups for new and better things. Thank you all for sticking with me through this journey!

Be an awesome You!