We Don’t Di – Smart Shopping Carts?

Craig (my personal trainer for the afterlife who died on July 10, 2017) and I have developed our own sign language; our very own way of communicating, as real as Egyptian hieroglyphics or cursive handwriting.  If one wants to communicate with a loved one on the other side, it’s important to watch for signs and not dismiss them as hallucinations.  The souls of those we hold dear are trying to make contact with us and  there are many different forms of communication.  We need to trust our intuition.

The “sign language” Craig and I have developed is an odd assortment of:  motorcycles, birds and feathers, wheelchairs, roses, electronics, shopping carts, and butterflies.  I call this a language because, as of the writing of this blog nearly two years after Craig’s crossing; it has been communicated every single day.  When I think of him or ask him a question, a sign will appear at that moment and most of the time with an answer that I completely understand.  Hundreds of uncanny signs have materialized in each of the “sign” categories I have outlined, which is why I have chosen them.    I have included only a few examples.  And today we are going to focus on shopping carts, of all things, as promised in last week’s blog (Exciting Electronic Evidence).

The day after Craig left this this earth, I went to Office Max to make some copies.  That sounds so matter of fact, but the truth is I don’t even know how I was able to drive or function, because I was so shocked at his passing.  As I approached the store, I noticed a lone shopping cart in front of the door to the building and all of a sudden it started to move –all by itself.  The area in front of the store was perfectly flat.  There was no breeze.  The cart started moving towards my car, so I stopped and let it pass in front of me. It went down the curb without tipping over, across the street, and then stopped once it passed my vehicle.  I laughed and jokingly said out loud, “Hey Craig, is that you, playing with the shopping cart?”  I parked and when I came out of the store there was a shopping cart blocking me from getting into my car.  No shopping carts were near my car when I parked.  This scenario has occured dozens of times.

There is a lovely restaurant on a gorgeous golf club up on a secluded hill in Palm Desert, California near where I live.  I was meeting my good friend and business partner there for lunch shortly after Craig crossed.  My heart was heavy with thoughts of him as I approached the top of the summit praying that I could make it through lunch without crying.  And there it was – an unattended shopping cart miles away from any shopping establishment.  It was so out of place in this magnificent setting it was ridiculous.  It made me smile as I thought of Craig and the tears were held at bay.

On a glorious sunny day while driving in my convertible with the top down and my curls blowing in the wind, I was running through the list in my mind of all the myriad signs I had received from Craig. I had completely forgotten about the shopping carts until right there in the middle of nowhere was – you guessed it – a shopping cart on the side of the road.  There was not a store in sight.  There was nothing but dirt and sand for miles, so I quickly added that to my list.

The following day as I was mindfully running through my gratitude list while getting on the freeway, I remembered the shopping cart, and as I thought “shopping cart,” there on the freeway was an actual shopping cart.

On February 10, 2017 I was in the parking lot of the local Walmart pushing my loaded cart back to my little sports car.  Craig had died exactly seven months earlier on July 10, 2017, so I was thinking about him.  As was my typical style, I was now talking out loud to the universe and casually asked Craig how things were in heaven?  (I know it sounds crazy that I talk to dead people, but I’ve come to understand that it is pretty common and even considered by many professionals to be normal and healthy.)  When I returned to my car to unlock it, my keys that were always, and I mean always, clipped to my purse were not there.  I looked at the shopping cart and my keys were fastened onto the shopping cart.  They were in such a precarious location that I would have had to lie down to attach them onto the cart, which I did not do.  I knew that was Craig’s way of telling me that heaven was just fine.  Later, through a medium, Craig would confirm that we was messing with my keys.

In Hawaii while driving on a desolate stretch of road from Kapaa to Kilauea, I was wishing I could ask Craig his opinion for the title of the book, Craig’s List for the Afterlife.  There were chickens and roosters darting in front of the car making it difficult to concentrate.  Then, in an instant, literally in the middle of a jungle of tropical plants, there was a bright shiny shopping cart on the side of the red dirt road.  I took that to mean that Craig concurred with the title.

On my way to the doctor’s office, which is on a quiet residential street, I was asking Craig a question about the book.  I said to please show me a sign if the answer was, “yes.”  And there in front of the doctor’s office, without a market in sight, was the shopping cart.

One night my friend was driving me home.  It was after 10:00 p.m. when we pulled into the guarded gated complex.  I was having a rather heated discussion with my girlfriend about Craig and the book.  Haphazardly in my mind I unconsciously asked Craig if she was right or if I was correct?  At that instant I noticed a shopping cart in front of the house.  I have been mystified by all the shopping carts I have seen as to how on earth they could have gotten to where they were.  But this one, at night, behind gates, in a residential area, really had me baffled.  I went out in the morning and took a picture.

I have seen and photographed dozens and dozens of solitary shopping carts in the most absurd places. As usual I would be thinking about Craig with a question in mind and I would notice the misplaced shopping cart. When I see the cart, I know the answer to my question is “yes.”

Stay tuned next week as we continue with the “sign language” with feathers.  Please share your experiences.

Di’s Claimer or Disclaimer

This is the disclaimer at the beginning of my book.

Some things need to be claimed, disclaimed, and exclaimed.

I believe with all of my heart and soul that it is my God-given purpose to write this book that will help thousands move through their grief, guilt, and fears.   In so doing, I accept that there are people who will say this is an unbelievable tale and the imaginings of a grief-stricken woman.

This is my true story exactly as it unfolded to me, without exaggeration and without malice.  I have had almost two years to digest this information. You will be getting all of it in the time it takes you to read the book.  I am certain some of the content will be as shocking to you as it was, and still is, to me. Because of religious beliefs, some will deem this narrative invalid, perhaps even blasphemous.  I understand that. I mean no offense. My only goal is to serve the grieving or frightened people in need of this healing message.

I ask only that you read this with an open mind and an open heart and then, follow your heart.