The Dead Appear In Dreams To Communicate The Needs Of Their Souls

Shortly after the burial of my mother, I tried once again to sleep. As in the prior months after her death, I would pray before bed. Just as I prayed for her soul as she was actively dying, I prayed every chance I had throughout the day, too. Only the precise instance she died, a distinct change occurred. A switch was hit. A fervor ceased. A realization that my prayers, my faith, my confidence had no bearing. I had no sway, no pull, no influence on God. I continued to pray regardless, but my conviction, my enthusiasm was no longer present.

Mom Appears

This time as I slept – and like prior dreams of Holy Souls In Purgatory; these happen just before waking- I was in my childhood home. It was as it appeared years ago, before my parents remodeled. Yet I was as I am now. Dad was there frantic, waiting for the ambulance. Mom was in another room, unseen but needed help. I stepped outside the house, for the paramedics had arrived. A team entered, I watched from the grass. I sensed that they couldn’t find her. Dad opened the door and said she’s missing; they can’t locate her. I needed to start looking. I turned to face our large property. As I ran down our small hill past our outbuildings, I seen her. She was standing at the foot of another hill leading up to our bank barn. Suddenly I was in front of her. She appeared as I remembered her in her 40’s. She had on a white short sleeve blouse and dark blue slacks. I was trying to tell her she needed to come back to the house. She needed to go to the hospital, to come inside. She shook her head. It was as though; she was bursting while shaking her hands ‘no.’ She was excited, smiling without parting her lips. I was too busy trying to coax her back, that I didn’t have the presence to ask her if she needed anything from me to help free her soul from purgatory. Then it happened. She took off running at lightning speed. Up the hill and over it. By the time I ran after her, the last glimpse I seen was her already up our neighbors’ massive hill and disappearing in their wood line. I was yelling for her as I came down our barn hill and onto our neighbor’s yard. Their yard too, was decades earlier. I looked to my right, and a woman stood a distance away in what once was a garden. She had a hoe in her hands. I did not recognize her. I asked if she seen my mom. Out of nowhere a huge gray dog was near her. I knew that I was in trouble. I sensed that this gray dog would attack me. As I turned opposite, the dog was in front of me. He leapt at me. I fell onto my back. His huge jaw on top of me coming to clamp down on my face. I instantly woke. I knew it was a visit; I missed my chance to ask her what more she needed to be released from purgatory. I also was aware that I could not pursue her. I think the dog was a hound of heaven and was making it clear that I could not enter nor chase after her.

My Sister

She died just two months after Mom. Our Priest had given her the Apostolic Blessing, which I took as a ‘get out of purgatory free card.’ Turns out it wasn’t. I prayed for her several times daily. But I was not focused on her soul’s well-being, because of the pardon. One day, three months after her death, I became somewhat concerned though. I prayed to Mother Mary, my special intercessor and asked if she was indeed, okay – just in case. And several days later a strange dream happened. I was in the basement of my childhood. So, that we are clear, this is a 225-year-old farmhouse. The basement is rocky, gray, crude and no matter how many lights are on, still it casts shadows. I was there, again as I am now. The light bulb was dangling. It was heavily shadowed, mom was there by the light, this time she looked as she had before she died. She stood by an open book resting on a stand, she gestured at the book. I approached the book, put my head down and said, ‘My poor sister!’ I stepped away and lying on the floor were dying, malnourished newborn kittens gasping for air. As I took another step, I seen what I thought was a shaggy matted feral barn cat I have. Although askew, it resembled my cat with the sandy tones, orange and black, it was eating out of a bowl. Then it did something amazing. It stood on its hind legs, but as it did so it grew to my height. It walked on two feet into the shadows. I woke. But I couldn’t make any sense out of this dream.

Does She Need Help

Unsure, I went ahead and had more Masses said for both mom and our sister. But oddly I wasn’t too worried about her. So, about three weeks later, when the nagging reminder of the dream surfaced I prayed to Mother and asked, ‘Does she need help?’ And several nights later just before waking I heard distinctly my voice asking;” Does she need help?” and a loud reply in a woman’s voice said: “She needs help.” Boy did I wake up! I prayed more, gave alms and said a rosary. I procured Masses for her. Then three months later, I had THE dream.

Confinment

I found myself inside a huge, barely lit commercial industrial like building. It stretched multiple stories high which were recessed into the darkness and shadows. On the floor level were tight aisles with rows of small, closed-door closet like spaces. I was in front of one door. It was very dark, but I could make out what was around me. In front of the door, I called out my sister’s name. From inside that closet I hear a soft, ‘Yeah.’ I opened the door, and she literally fell into my arms. I held her as she curled up in my lap. And I awoke, greatly disturbed. I started praying more, but my spark, my certainty had gone. How could I help her?

My Priest

Four months later, uncertain if my efforts had helped her or Mom, I mustered the courage to talk to our Priest. I had been debating asking his advice for months. I was still at a disbelief over the Apostolic Pardon not assuring she had bypassed purgatory. The time came for me to ask; “Is it possible that a C-Student Catholic, possibly a D-Student, could have dreams where the dead appear needing my help?” He responded: “Yes. It’s our faith that we commune with the saints. Be confident that their salvation is assured. Their suffering is a separation from God, but they will be delivered.” I asked about the Apostolic Pardon – is it not the free pass I thought? “No, it is not a get out of purgatory free pass.” I told him that she’s not in a good place. He replied: “God works out of time and space. I may have seen where she WAS, but she is not there now.”

Church “Friends”

Father went onto say that both parishes (our area has combined local churches due to a shortage of Priests) have “Friends.” It wasn’t clear to me what “Friends” were. He said, “I prefer ‘friends’ to ghosts. At both churches I’ve heard voices, noises, actually several of us have. We are aware of them. What we can do is pray for them, offer alms, rosaries, our sufferings and Masses.”

Dry Prayer

Once he said this, I had to confess that all of my confidence in prayer, ended the exact moment mom died. He nodded instantly. He called this “dry prayer.” The only way to overcome it, he said, was to “keep praying.” By continuing on with my prayers, the diffidence feeling will subside. And one month later, it has. After a few more sacrifices, I will pray and ask for an update on my sister’s level of purgatory. I’m sure I’ll receive it. But first I must try harder to help her.