Well, I couldn’t let this one go by without commenting - given my profession of intuitive and wowOwow’s "Star Signs" Contributor!

Not only do I believe in the after-life, but deal with it on a daily basis. Being raised Catholic for the better part of my life, I was always taught to trust and to rely on faith. That foundation of trust gave me the courage and confidence to sift through what I was taught vs. what I was experiencing, eventually leading me to my current profession (albeit initially kicking and screaming). I’ve had so many remarkable experiences not only for myself, but with clients as well, I’m way past the point of needing to be convinced. I know many of you have similar stories of your own.

I’ve seen more than a few self-proclaimed atheists convert to believing in something other than the finality of death, because of their experiences with a loved one after they’ve left this life. For some, seeing is believing! I also find it no coincidence that just a few days ago, an individual, Jim French, contacted me to share his personal story about seeing a soul leave the body while he was working in the Trauma Room at an emergency care hospital. I thought it perfect timing, given today’s commentary to share his story.

It would be interesting to hear if any of you have had a similar experience as Jim’s or if you’re one of the "one in three" he refers to in his letter to me. See below:

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Dear Peggy,

Many years ago, while a sophomore at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I was fortunate to be employed part-time as a Nursing Assistant in the Emergency Room of the University Hospital. Because this is a teaching hospital with physicians and surgeons coming and going, the Emergency Room has always been run by its nursing staff. I thought of it as Nurse Heaven. I, awkward, shy, was, am, in love with every one of the women who were nurses there and then.

Eventually, I was assigned to the trauma team that worked the Trauma Room within the Emergency Room. The Trauma Room is an operating suite placed to handle emergency admissions who are so unstable and emergent that these patients cannot survive long enough to reach any operating room farther into the hospital. We lost most of the lives we fought to save in the Trauma Room.

One night, the doors burst open, the head nurse shouts, "Trauma Room!" and off we go. This was presenting as a sort of rolling heart attack that did not respond to the electric paddles or chest compression. The surgeon sweeps in…we crack the chest. My job is to bear a tight grip on a retractor, lean back, keep that side of the rib cage apart from the other, concentrate on nothing else but that.

Something caught my attention. It had to do with light, the source of light. I can’t say I saw it. I will say I perceived it. And, at the moment the stalk snapped, the monitors sounded their alarms.

After all was over, I went into the nurses lounge and was standing before a mirror, wiping my face with a wet paper towel when the loveliest nurse you can possibly imagine, Lucy Kearns, RN, came in.

Lucy Kearns. She had a way of taking her shoes off and massaging her feet and this way, glimpsed by me from time to time, of this woman, this nurse, past the point of exhaustion, rubbing her feet, there was something about the way she rubbed her feet that always caught my attention and stays with me to this day. That night, though, she paused to worry about me: "Was that the first time?"

"No." Not the first. Not the first one lost with me standing there; but, the first time…

"I saw something, though."

"What?"

"Well, I didn’t see it. I must have perceived it."

"Well, what was it?"

"It was like a tube of light that came out of his chest and rose to the ceiling. It expanded like a bag of light, extending nearly the length of his torso; and, it hovered there, with the tube still reaching to his chest; and, then the tube snapped and the bag went up and away and that’s when the monitors went off."

Lucy, who had a way of dismissing me anyway, shrugged this off and returned her attention to her toes while saying, "That’s just the soul leaving."

I said nothing. I just stood there. She looked up, she said, "You believe in the soul, don’t you?"

I said, "Yes, ma’am. I do."

Lucy said, "Well, now you’ve seen it. You shouldn’t be so surprised."

I asked, "Have you seen it?"

She said, "Of course. A lot of times it will catch my eye. Most everybody who works the ER has seen it. Ask them. They’ll tell you."

So, I did. Throughout the years, for a number of years, I would ask, upon meeting someone who worked the ER or the EMT trucks, I would ask, "Didja ever see a soul?" I surely asked a hundred people over the years. And, I found, one out of three will say, "Oh, yeah…sure."

Anyway, I thought you might want to try this as you meet people through the years, people who stand close to that moment, ER types, you know. It is rather interesting.

-Jim French

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Thanks, Jim, for allowing me to share your amazing story.

Now, I’d love to hear your comments about Jim’s story……