Jeff D

My experience is not directly related to questions surrounding a near-death experience. I am a victim of a hit-and-run while riding my motorcycle, none of which I can recall today. Witnesses and family gathered at the hospital have clearer memories of the event than I do. The situations I experience now, and since returning home from recovery and rehabilitation, are directly tied to that accident and whatever happened during my month-plus stay in the hospital. On March 30, I was riding my motorcycle home after a brief Craigslist transaction where I purchased headphones. I remember meeting in the parking lot of Mary Lou’s Coffee. I remember the seller’s dogs. And I have vague memories of the ride back until the accident. In the hospital, doctors found I had four skull fractures and brain bleeds requiring immediate attention. I was placed in a medically induced coma for two weeks. Holes were drilled into my skull to relieve pressure and stop the bleeding. I later transferred to a rehabilitation center, where I received care and visits from friends and family before being discharged after about 30 days. While recovering at home, my daughter at school, girlfriend at work, and the visiting nurse were out of the house. I was approached by a young man named Jacob. He began describing his own accident. I thought I was broken because Jacob and I didn’t know each other. Although he stood physically in front of me, his appearance was faint. Jacob and I spoke. He had been in an accident in Florida. He was thrown from his truck when it flipped over on him. He was 19 years old at the time. Although physically hospitalized and in a coma, he shared insights about not wanting to return to his body due to the immense life changes he feared. He also told me details about me. I could go on about events that still happen today. All events have been verified, because I needed to validate what I witnessed and to decide whether to pursue it or let it go. I’ve spoken with people I don’t personally know, although I did speak to someone I know did. I’ve also spoken with those who have passed. I avoid joining groups because sometimes they help me and sometimes they don’t. What defines a cult? I only discuss my experiences with a handful of people but stumbled upon this site while researching occurrences through ChatGPT. Revelations I’ve received have changed my life. Yet, I’ve always been someone who helps others. I suppose I am a healer in my own way, whether fixing technical issues, briefly working as a trained hypnotherapist, or now facilitating conversations for those who’ve moved on. I share this without expectations. My hope is that others see they’re not alone in their journey; that life continues beyond, that good and evil are distinct, and that I’ve been fortunate to interact only with those who were good in life. Recently, I was asked how someone can confirm if a departed loved one is reaching out. I believe with high success, that people have either seen or sensed positive confirmation. I start by asking if they know the saying, "Stop and smell the roses." Most answer, "Yes." Then I explain life as growing up in a box. We’re born, fed, clothed, told what to do, and how to act. As we age, the box expands from activities such as school and work we get limited exposure. Few boxes get varied experiences such that one would find in travel or bigger families. So how do boxes find true love within such limits? Through work, college, the internet (added recently) these sources barely tip the scales. Finally, I ask, "If the saying urges one to stop to smell roses, what if you never saw them in the first place?" The key is realizing that the roses exist and then seeking them. Life is hard for everyone. I was born to an unknown father as the middle child in an abusive family. I was locked in the basement while mom searched for life; beaten with rope and paddles. My older half-brother dealt drugs and gambled from ninth grade; my younger half-sister struggles with alcoholism. I avoid drugs and alcohol, mostly. But my family life was my box. Yet I’ve traveled to 23 states, four countries, served honorably in the Army, and was stationed in Germany in the early 1980s. I still speak novice German. I’m certified in wet and dry suit diving from Catalina Island to Turks and Caicos. I skydived once at 13,500 feet tandem. Still ride motorcycles. Survived past doctors’ five-year expectations. My life remains full.