Praagh - Growing up in heaven : the eternal connection between parent and child

JAMES VAN PRAAGH is the New York Times bestselling author of Unfinished Business, Ghosts Among Us, and Talking to Heaven. He lectures and conducts seminars around the globe. Visit the author online at www.vanpraagh.com.

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To all those beings both in Spirit and on the Earth, who have assisted me throughout the years in bringing my message of life after death out into the world. I thank and honor each one of you, especially:

Brian Preston, Boo Radley, Maizey Mae, Linda Tomchin, Ciaran and Kelly Barry, Joe Skeehan, Jacquie Ochoa-Rosellini, Heather Vogel, Kelly Dennis, Chip Mc Allister, Christian Dickens, Ken Robb, Tori Mitchell, Randy Wilson, Darlene Krantz, Bob Lewis, Cyndi Schacher, Gideon Weil, Suzanne Wickham, Scottie Schwimer, Jeff Eisenberg, Ron Oyer, Ciaran Sheehan, Gabrielle OConnor, Marie Levine, Joerdie Fisher, Dorothea Delgado, Marilyn Whall, Liz Dawn, Cammy Farone, Angie Lile, Kim Keller, Rita Curtis, and Christy Lee

With deep appreciation to all the parents who have suffered the loss of their children and to those who have participated in my workshops, spirit circles and evening events. Thank you for sending me your heartfelt emails and postings to my web site.

Frank and Taunya Strocchio, Ann and Arnold Singer, Martha and Ernesto Chacon, Gail and Lance Harris, Lori Kizer, Glenda Walls, Norman and Babette Minery, Kathryn Musser, Deborah Matthews, Patricia Van Vliet, Jane Shaw, Joy M. and Joyce, Karen Cardenas James, and James Radford

Recently, I was at an airport waiting for my plane to begin boarding. Instead of pounding my computer keyboard, or reading a book or magazine like the rest of the waiting masses, I sat back on an uncomfortable, faux-leather seat and stared at the milling, multitasking crowd walking back and forth in front of me. They ran to and from their gates, talked on cell phones, and lined up to buy food. Looking out at the sea of people, I wondered if there were others like me, sitting and observing others in their natural habitat and trying to imagine each ones life situation. As I scanned the crowd, a group of young boys ranging in age from seven to ten walked by, followed by their fathers. All of them were wearing baseball uniforms, so I assumed they were off to a baseball game. I caught the eye of one of the fathers and asked: Championship game? He proudly replied: Yep. The series! I wished him good luck, and he smiled and walked on.

As I watched the Little Leaguers move toward their gate, I was suddenly struck by a strong memory that brought me back to a time long ago. I was eight years old and sitting in my geography class, listening to my teacher chatter on about the various countries in South America. I was in the very back of the room, because my last name began with a V. Although it seemed unfair, even discriminatory, always to be stuck in the back because of my name, it certainly had its benefits as well. I was able to close my eyes without much notice from the teacher. On this particular occasion, I began to daydream about the Little League game I had played the night before, and I started to criticize myself.

The coach always sent me to the outfield because I was not very good at catching. I literally froze in my tracks thinking that everyone was looking at me and counting on me to make the catch, and I was mortified when I inevitably missed. On those rare occasions when I did catch the ball, I nervously dropped it out of my glove. As I was reliving this horror in my mind and thinking how I had let all those people down, I suddenly became aware of the spirit of a small blond-haired boy about my age coming through the middle floor-to-ceiling window of the classroom and walking over to me. He was dressed in a pin-striped uniform and a red cap, and he held a baseball glove.

The boy leaned toward me and whispered: Im Joey. Then he went on to explain that he was a second baseman in the Springfield Little League.

He said: I got dead in the fifth inning, and I flashed on a ball hitting Joey right between the eyes. My teachers told me to come here and talk to you. Youre not seeing how good you are in the game. He went on, saying that, instead of really enjoying the game, I was more concerned about what others thought of me. As this spirit stood beside me, I felt that time had stopped, and a telepathic link of communication opened between us.

I remember asking him, Who are you really? Why are you dressed like that?

He responded that he had gone back home to heaven over a year ago. The last time I was on earth, I was the second baseman for Springfield. He said that was the reason he chose to come back and show himself to me in his uniform. Joey talked about where he lived in the heavenly worlds.

You can visit me in your dreams, he insisted. It is more real than this world. I remember his saying that earth was like a mirror to our real home. He then pointed upward and said that there were so many things to do in heaven that no one on earth could ever imagine how special it was. I wish my parents could see that I am alive.

I didnt understand him. I kept thinking: But youre not alive, youre dead, and Im the only one who can see you. Joey prattled on about how he was enjoying his life in heaven, and how his parents would be so happy for him; and if they knew, they would no longer spend all their time crying.

What exactly are you doing over there? I asked.

Growing and growing and growing! he answered.

I wanted to turn away from Joey, because he was giving me too many thoughts at once. My head was spinning as he shared all the information. I remember his telling me something about the soul experiencing everything from the past as well as the future.

Most people cant see who they really are on earth, but in heaven they can. At this point, I asked him to leave, but he insisted on telling me more.

I was just like you. I was afraid of letting people down. After I left earth, I realized the only reason I wanted to join Little League and play ball was to make my father love me more. It wasnt until after Joey died and was constantly bathed in the grief and tears of his father and mother that he realized his dad did love him. Joey just never knew it, because his father never told him.

My soul had to be born to my parents, because they would give me possibilities to learn about one of the windows of my soul, he said. I did not know what he meant, but I just felt that he was telling me that his parents were there to give him opportunities so he could learn about himself. And I felt from his communication that they had been together before.

I then very directly asked him: Are you an angel? In an instant, he down-loaded a sense of himself into my mind.

We are souls who live in many different places; like flowers, we grow everywhere. He tried to explain to me that some souls live and grow in heaven, which is made up of many places, and that earth is a place where we go to try and understand that we are souls.

We put on bodies and cover up our soul part, so we have to remember who we are. I tried to put two and two together about the reason for his visit. Was he trying to tell me not to worry about what others think or to remember that I am a soul?

Then Joey said it clearly: You should never forget that you are a soul walking on the earth, so dont worry about what others think because they are souls too. You dont have to be afraid around other souls. You can shine your light for all to see.

I am sure that I thought about it more simply then than I am remembering it now, but the feeling is the same. By shine, I think he meant love, or to share love with others.

Do you still have to go to school in heaven? I asked him.

He laughed at me and said through his thoughts: Yes, there are classes over here where we get to learn the pieces of our souls puzzle. He kept on trying to let me know that the boy I was seeing standing before me was only one aspect of who he was and that, in reality, he was made up of many different personalities who had lived all over this world and other worlds. I was completely thrown off by what he said to me. I did not understand any part of the conversation and kept on thinking: How could you have traveled around the world? You are a little boy!