Do you believe our loved ones can still influence our lives from beyond, or do we just carry their lessons forward ourselves?
I’ve always liked the idea that love doesn’t vanish, it just changes form. Some people think when someone dies, they’re gone, full stop. Others believe their spirit lingers, nudging us through coincidences, whispers, or the occasional flying cardinal that refuses to leave the porch.
Me? I’m somewhere in the middle. I don’t think my grandmother’s orchestrating parking spots or my grandfather’s adjusting the thermostat from beyond, but I do think their fingerprints are all over who I am. Their lessons, quirks, and phrases have become part of my wiring, like little bits of code still running long after the original program has closed.
When I hear myself say, “Taste it before you season it,” I can almost hear her voice scolding me, equal parts love and salt management. When I catch myself fixing something that doesn’t need fixing, that’s probably him, impatient, curious, quietly proud.
Maybe it’s not about whether they influence us from beyond. Maybe it’s that they influenced us so deeply while they were here that their presence keeps echoing. Maybe the afterlife isn’t a place, it’s the persistence of the things they taught us.
I think about that every time I look up at the stars. Maybe we’re not carrying the lessons forward alone. Maybe the light that reaches us, faint, but constant, isn’t just starlight. Maybe it’s love, finding its way back.
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So… do you believe our loved ones can still influence our lives from beyond, or do we just carry their lessons forward ourselves?
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