I wasn't there when it happened.  So this part of the story I am told by my sister.  One day my sister saw my mom leave the rest room, and she noticed that one of my mother's breasts was a larger than the other -- visibly larger. 

Eventually, my mother saw the doctor, and she was told that she had advanced breast cancer.  There was nothing to do but to operate.  My mother survived the operation, but, sadly, that cancer had spread.  Chemotherapy became the final hope. 

Sadly, the chemotherapy made my mother weak, and skinny -- a mere shadow of her former self.  It wasn't long before the cancer had spread throughout her body and we were left to wait for her to die. 

 My mother had been a free spirit.  She had lived her life filled with joy and happiness.  Her one passion was to raise birds.  She always had an aviary at her house, and in it were pigeons, finches and many other birds.  She would train them, and a day did not go by without her caressing and loving her bird friends. 

Seeing my mother becoming sick like this may be think of a bird with an injured wing.  Utter freedom and beauty clipped and struggling.  This was difficult for me. 

 My mother had always told us stories about paranormal events in her childhood.  She would tell the tales of ghosts coming into her bedroom at night and pulling her feet -- waking her terrified, from her sleep.  My mother was convinced that the spirit went on once the body passed.  I decided that before my mother's mind left her, I would ask her to do me a little favor.  I asked her one day if she would contact me after she died just tell me if she was OK.  She agreed to do this eagerly.  She told me she would delight in pulling my feet some night while I slept.  I told her in no uncertain terms that having my feet pulled in the middle of the night by an unseen spirit was not my idea of a good time, so I urged her to use some more subtle technique to notify me.  Something subtle that would not frighten me, yet unmistakable. 

The last two weeks were difficult for us all.  It's not easy to see your mother, a person who meant so much to you, suffer so terribly.  Fortunately, it only lasted for two weeks. 

During the last week, many of us, my siblings, my aunts and uncles, would visit her in the hospital.  Because of our busy schedules we visited when we could, so, as you might imagine, we rarely ran into each other at her bedside.  But one day I felt compelled to go visit my mother in the middle of a work day.  When I arrived I notice that many family members had also chosen this time to visit her.  From her condition it was clear that she would die very soon, perhaps in a few moments. Within minutes, amazingly, the entire family was there even though no-one called those not in attendance.

I had never seen someone die before.  But, I watched as her breathing slowed, and her life slipped away.  I don't know what I was expecting, but when she died I stared above her, somehow expecting to see the spirit rise from her now dead body.  I saw nothing.  No mist or ghost, or anything. 

There was an air of jubilation in the room.  All of us loved her deeply, and we were glad to see her suffering come to an end. We all hugged, and a flush of relief came over us all. 

I decided to walk home.  It was one of those wonderful Southern California days with the sun shining and the sky crystal clear.  As I walked, I noticed the strangest sound.  It was the sound of the baby crying.  Yet I was alone on the street.  The sound seemed to be coming from about one block in front of me.  I walked toward the sound and it appeared to have no source.  My analytical and scientific mind went to work.  Where was the sound coming from? Is it coming from a house? Is coming from a car? There simply had to be a logical answer. 

As I walked closer to where the sound was, I rotated my head and was able to identify that the sound was above me, about 30 feet above the intersection.  There I saw what I thought was the answer.  There was a car in the intersection, waiting for the stop light.  I was sure that inside that car was a baby who was crying.  As I walked closer to the car, I noticed that there was only a driver and no child inside.  Now I was left with the strange reality of hearing a sound floating 30 feet above an intersection were no sound should be.  I stepped closer to the sound, and I noticed that it wasn't a baby crying and all.  Instead it was the sound of an eagle! A real eagle! The only place I had ever heard the sound of eagle before was from watching television, so I had just not been familiar with the actual sound.  But there it was, floating 30 feet above an intersection.  I looked into the crystal blue sky and saw nothing.  My analytical mind was baffled. All my hairs stood on end.

So there I stood listening to an invisible bird 30 feet above an intersection.  Could it be that here in Hollywood somebody was making sound effects in their home? Could those sounds be somehow projecting from their home into the sky? I looked around me and saw no one, so I looked into the house nearest the intersection and it was indeed vacant.  I could not explain the sound; and just as suddenly as it had started it stopped.  I walked home feeling somehow excited and confused. 

When I arrived home the first words my wife spoke to me were "So your mother died didn't she?" and she, of course, was right.  But how did she know? 

I asked her, and she said she felt something.  As if the entire House had shaken.  Like a small earthquake. 

The next day was quiet.  I don't know why, but when someone in your family dies you end up eating a lot of junk food.  My brother Nick joined us for lunch one day.  One of his unique characteristics is that he has long blond hair.  As we ate our hamburgers and French fries I noticed in the corner of my eye what looked like a bird flying across the table and landing in my brothers hair.  He swatted at his hair trying to get the object out.  He was startled too.  Yet, there was nothing there.  Both of our dogs, who were sitting with us sharing our meal didn't so much as flinch an ear.  They didn't seem to see a bird.  I saw the bird, and my brother felt it snag in his hair.  Yet the was nothing there. 

It's easy to write off the strange events, especially as they are so hard to prove.  I dismissed the event myself, even though I did check and I noticed that all the windows and doors were closed and was no way a bird could enter our home. 

The next night my wife and I lay in bed watching television.  We turned off the television, and my wife left the bed to go visit the restroom one last time before coming to bed.  As she stepped into the hall, just an inch above her head, the mysterious bird flew into the bedroom and I stared at directly at it.  It flew directly overhead into the room and flew in a circle.  I stared right at it.  It was a bird, and it was black in color yet because of its moving wings it appeared to be transparent.  It flew in a circle in the room, and came right toward me and flew over my face while I lay there in bed.  I heard its wings, and I felt the breeze from its wings on my face.  It continued its flight, and then left the room to through the same hall.  This time I knew a bird was loose in our House. 

The next morning, I conducted a complete search of our house.  All the windows and doors had been and were locked.  So if the bird was in the house, I would most certainly find it.  I looked under furniture, and I even looked inside cabinets.  There was no bird to be found. 

At this point, I began to believe that I was receiving some kind of message, some kind of message from my mother.  The mysterious bird didn't frighten me, but it was rather strange.  I could cite no rational explanation for a bird that could come from nowhere and go to nowhere.  The frustration of being unable to find a logical explanation began a gradual transition into a warm sense of contact from beyond the grave.  A sense that my mother was definitely trying to tell me something.  However, I was not completely convinced. Yet. 

The next morning I woke up at 4 a.m. exactly.  I had been deeply asleep, but now I was completely awake.  I sat up in bed wondering “Why am I completely awake at 4 a.m.?".  The answer soon came.  Suddenly, music began to play.  The music came from my wife's jewelry box, which had a music box mechanism within it.  It simply played a few notes and stopped.  This was truly strange, why have I awakened to hear music box play in the middle of the night? It made no sense.  I fell back asleep. 

When morning came, I gave that box a very close examination.  My wife had put a tray of jewelry on top of the music box holding it closed quite firmly.  My understanding was that music boxes only play with open.  So how could this box play when closed? I opened the box, and it did not play.  This was due to the fact that it was completely unwound.  I wound up the box and opened it and it continued to play from where it had left off the night before.  Then, I closed the box, and verified that it simply would not play with the top closed.  No matter how I shook the box, or turned the box, or pounded the box, it simply would not play with the lid closed.  Then how, I wondered, could it have played last night not only closed, but with heavy jewelry on top, in it?  It was a physical impossibility! 

My analytical mind simply gave up at this point.  All three of the strange events had no explanation.  No explanation in the logical, rational world we normally live in.  I was left with nothing but a sense of awe that somehow I had been the recipient of a very special kind of communication.  My mother was OK.  She was still "alive" in some way.  She had taken the time to communicate with me.  She had taken the time to do just as she had promised, and tell me in a subtle, kind, and loving way that there is life beyond the grave. 

It was amazingly heart warming to have these events occur to me.  Life is somehow much easier to live, when you know that there is more in store for us after we shed this body of ours. Since that day I have never feared death -- not for a second.

I urge everyone to live their lives here on earth to the fullest.  Because, no matter what we do here, we go on to a different place, a place where we are not held down or restricted by a corporal form.  We go on to a place with ultimate freedom. I now know that we go on to a place where we are as free as birds!