Will We Be Reunited with Our Loved Ones?
- Dave Dawson
- Jun 13
- 12 min read
Edgar Cayce
12 May 2025
This exploration of life's most profound question examines whether we will see our loved ones again after death. Drawing from scientific research on near-death experiences, cultural traditions that honour continued bonds, and personal stories of connection beyond the physical, this video offers a thoughtful perspective on grief, hope, and eternal love. I share insights from diverse spiritual traditions, including Edgar Cayce's perspective on the continuity of consciousness, alongside modern psychological research on healthy grieving. Through intimate stories of those who've experienced mysterious connections with departed loved ones, we discover how maintaining these bonds can transform our grief journey and inspire us to live more authentically. Whether you're seeking comfort after loss or contemplating life's biggest mysteries, this video provides both emotional solace and intellectual depth.
I often wonder if the deepest desire of our hearts, isn't simply to know that love never truly ends; throughout human history we've asked ourselves will we meet our loved ones again after death. This question transcends cultures, religions, and even time itself. Today I want to take you on a journey, exploring this profound hope that connects us all; the possibility of reunion with those we've lost. When my grandmother passed away last spring I stood by her bedside in her final moments, something remarkable happened, she smiled, her eyes fixed on something I couldn't see and whispered a name - her sister who had died 20 years earlier. Was this merely the firing of neurons in a dying brain or something more? This experience left me with questions that would not rest. I began researching accounts of deathbed visions, near-death experiences, and cultural beliefs about the afterlife. What I discovered was both fascinating and deeply moving.
Across continents, in centuries, humans have developed elaborate beliefs about what happens when we die. The ancient Egyptians envisioned a complex judgment process where the heart was weighed against a feather of truth; if found worthy, the soul would continue to a paradise where they would reunite with family members gone before; in eastern traditions like Hinduism and Buddhism, the concept of reincarnation suggests we might encounter our loved ones in different lives. Even if we don't consciously recognize our past connections, only upon reaching enlightenment would we escape this cycle and find ultimate unity. The Abrahamic faiths, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, share variations of belief in paradise, where souls of the righteous gather. Meanwhile, many indigenous American cultures see death as a journey to spiritual lands where ancestors await to welcome and guide the newly departed. What struck me most was the common thread running through these diverse beliefs, the hope that death isn't the absolute end of our bonds with those we love, but rather a transformation. During my research I encountered the work of Edgar Cayce, the renowned American psychic known as the sleeping prophet and his readings suggested that bonds formed between souls continue beyond physical death, and that our relationships are part of a larger spiritual purpose that transcends a single lifetime. But beyond religious traditions and spiritual authorities there are thousands of personal testimonies that have shaped our understanding of potential reunion.
People who experience clinical death before being resuscitated often report encountering deceased loved ones. These near-death experiences (NDEs) have been extensively documented by researchers like Dr Raymond Moody, who found striking similarities across thousands of accounts. These stories typically describe being greeted by previously deceased family members and friends, experiencing profound peace, and feeling immediate recognition, even of ancestors they never knew in life. What's particularly interesting is how the loved ones are often described, not as ghostly apparitions but as vibrant healthy versions of themselves, often in the prime of their lives. As I delved deeper into these accounts I couldn't help but wonder, are these merely hallucinations produced by a dying brain, or genuine glimpses of what awaits us? Current science cannot provide a definitive answer, but neither can it completely dismiss the possibility that some form of consciousness might continue beyond physical death. What we do know is that these experiences profoundly transform those who have them; many lose their fear of death and develop a new perspective on life, focusing more on love and meaningful relationships than on material concerns.
In the chapters ahead we'll explore scientific perspectives on these phenomena, examine remarkable stories of contact after death, and consider how the possibility of reunion shapes our approach to grief and living. We'll look at what neuroscience tells us about the dying brain, but also at cases that challenge purely materialistic explanations. What if the truth is more wonderful and complex than we can fully comprehend? I remember sitting in a hospital waiting room when an elderly man approached me; his eyes, though tired, held a certain peace I couldn't quite place. "My wife passed last night," he said quietly "but she came to me this morning standing at the foot of my bed looking young again." He smiled "the doctors would say I imagined it. Maybe I did, but it felt more real than this conversation we're having now”. What do we make of such experiences? are they merely the mind's way of comforting itself, or something more profound? Neuroscience offers compelling explanations for phenomena surrounding death; when the brain begins to shut down it releases chemicals that could produce sensations of peace, well-being, and vivid visions. Oxygen deprivation might trigger hallucinations that the brain interprets based on cultural beliefs and expectations. This would explain why a devout Hindu might see different figures than a Christian during a near-death experience. Yet there are cases that challenge purely materialistic explanations.
People who were clinically dead during medical procedures, have returned with information they shouldn't have been able to know; detailed conversations that occurred while unconscious, or precise descriptions of deceased relatives they never met in life. Dr Sam Parnia, director of the Resuscitation Research program at New York university has extensively studied consciousness during clinical death. His research suggests consciousness might continue even when brain activity has ceased, raising profound questions about the nature of mind and its relationship to the physical brain. These scientific observations don't definitively prove an afterlife or the possibility of reunion with loved ones, but they open the door to considering that our current understanding of consciousness and death might be incomplete. What's particularly interesting about accounts of contact with deceased loved ones, is their consistency across cultures and time periods. The “after-death communication” (ADC) phenomenon has been researched by Bill and Judy Guggenheim, who interviewed over 3,000 people from diverse backgrounds. They discovered approximately 20% of the population has experienced some form of communication with a deceased loved one. These experiences include vivid dreams, physical sensations, familiar sense, objects that move, or even complete visual appearances. What makes them fascinating is that they often don't occur immediately after death but months, or even years later, contradicting the idea that they're simply products of acute grief or denial. One woman I interviewed, described her experience, “I was in the kitchen when I suddenly smelled my mother's perfume. It was unmistakable, she always wore a specific French fragrance I’ve never found anywhere else. Then I felt a gentle pressure on my shoulder like someone resting their hand there. In that moment I knew she was with me, that she was okay, and that our bond hadn't been broken.”
Sceptics argue these experiences are simply products of the grieving mind, ways our brain tries to console us, however the consistency of these reports across cultures and time periods, and how frequently they contain information the recipient couldn't have known, raises intriguing questions about their true nature. What I find most compelling is how these experiences transform those who have them. Most report a significant decrease in fear of death, and a profound conviction that their bond with loved ones continues. As one man told me after experiencing his late wife's presence "I no longer feel like I’ve lost her, we’re just temporarily separated”. There's an enormous difference between those two perceptions; if we contemplate what final reunion might be like, different traditions and testimonies offer varying images, but with surprisingly common elements. Many descriptions speak of immediate instinctive recognition, not just seeing the person as we remember them, but recognizing their essence, their unique energy. Another recurring element is the sensation of direct communication transcending words. Many describe a form of telepathy or complete understanding, where explanations are unnecessary. Thoughts, emotions, and memories flow freely between those reunited, creating an intimacy rarely experienced in physical life. The absence of judgment or resentment also appears frequently; conflicts or wounds that existed in the earthly relationship seem to dissolve in a broader, more compassionate understanding. As one man who reunited with his father during an NDE explained, "there was no need for apologies or explanations, everything was understood and forgiven on a level I can't describe with words."
I find it fascinating how different cultures around the world have created meaningful rituals that honour the possibility of reunion with loved ones. These traditions aren't just symbolic gestures, they're bridges between worlds, connecting the living with those who have departed. In Mexico I witnessed the vibrant celebration of Dia De Los Muertos (day of the dead); far from sombre, this colourful festival celebrates the belief that spirits of the departed return to reunite with their families. Families prepare favourite meals of their deceased relatives, decorate altars with photographs, and share stories. The air fills with marigold petals, said to guide spirits back with their intense colour and scent. What struck me most was the joyful atmosphere, not denying grief, but transforming it into a celebration of continued connection. Japan’s Obon festival similarly honours ancestors who return to visit their families; lanterns are lit to guide spirits back to the world of the living, traditional dances are performed, and food offerings prepared at the festival's end. Floating lanterns are released on rivers and seas to help spirits return to the other world, symbolizing the temporary but recurring nature of these reunions. These traditions show how deeply the idea of reunion is woven into human experience of grief and continuity. They aren't mere superstitions, but cultural expressions of a profound intuition, that the bonds we form in life are too powerful to be completely severed by death. I spoke with Min, a cultural anthropologist, who studies death rituals across societies; what's remarkable, she told me, is how these practices serve both emotional and spiritual purposes. They give the bereaved a structured way to maintain relationship with the deceased, creating a middle ground between total separation and denial of death.
Throughout my research I’ve noticed how these cultural frameworks provide languages and rituals for experiencing continued bonds in ways that contemporary western society often lacks. Many people I’ve interviewed described feeling ashamed of their experiences of sensing deceased loved ones nearby, afraid they'd be labelled delusional or unable to move on properly, yet psychological research increasingly suggests that maintaining bonds with deceased loved ones through conversation, ritual, or internal dialogue, can be healthy and adaptive. As Dr Robert Neimeyer, a psychologist specializing in grief therapy explains, we don't need to let go of relationships with those who have died, instead we transform those relationships; this resonates with what many spiritual traditions have known for centuries.
The psychic Edgar Cayce suggested that our relationships continue to evolve even after physical death, existing in a different dimension but no less real. This perspective offers a middle path between denial of death and absolute separation. During my journey through Tibetan Buddhist communities in the Himalayas, I learned about their elaborate practices for guiding the consciousness after death; the Bardo Thodol, commonly known as the Tibetan Book of the Dead, describes various states of consciousness the deceased moves through over 49 days, eventually leading either to rebirth or liberation. Throughout this process the living maintains a relationship with the deceased through prayer and ritual, helping them navigate these transitions. What I find most striking about these diverse traditions is their shared recognition that death transforms relationships rather than ending them, whether through festival prayer, meditation, or simple conversation, humans have found ways to maintain meaningful connections with those who have passed.
Sarah, a grief counsellor I interviewed, shared her observation when people experience the presence of deceased loved ones through dreams, synchronicities, or sensed presence, they often describe it as healing. Regardless of their religious beliefs, these experiences seem to serve a purpose beyond mere comfort; they help the bereaved integrate the reality of the loss while maintaining an internal connection. One woman described how, after her husband's death, she continued setting his place at the dinner table and sharing the events of her day with him. “My friends worried I wasn't accepting his death, but I knew perfectly well he was gone physically. This ritual was my way of transforming our relationship rather than ending it. Eventually I stopped needing the physical chair, but our conversation continues in my heart.” These stories remind me that relationships don't simply end with death, they change form; perhaps the most powerful insight from both ancient wisdom traditions and modern grief research, is that love creates bonds that transcend our physical existence. Whether we conceive of reunion as a literal event in an afterlife, or as the continuing presence of loved ones in our hearts and memories, the essential connection remains.
I stood on the beach one evening watching the sun set behind the horizon. As darkness fell, I thought about how the sun doesn't really disappear, it's simply no longer visible from where I stand. This metaphor for death has stayed with me throughout my journey exploring the possibility of reunion with loved ones, whether we can scientifically prove the existence of an afterlife or reunion with our loved ones remains an open question, but I’ve come to understand that the love we share with them is undeniably real and transformative; persisting beyond physical separation in ways both subtle and profound. As Antoine de Saint-Exupéry beautifully expressed, the essential is invisible to the eyes. Perhaps the true reunion isn't something that occurs only after death, but a continuous process where we keep alive in our hearts those we love, where we continue dialoguing with them in our thoughts, where we sense their presence in unexpected moments. Through my conversations with hundreds of people who've experienced loss I’ve noticed how the possibility of eventual reunion shapes their grief journey. Maria, who lost her daughter in an accident 5 years ago, shared "I don't know for certain if I’ll see her again, but living with that hope gives me strength to continue. Some nights I feel her presence so strongly that I’m convinced our connection continues beyond what I can see or touch." If we imagine a moment of reunion with those we've lost, what would we want to share about how we lived after their departure? What story would we want to tell about what we did with the time we were given? The possibility of reunion invites us to live authentically, transforming the pain of absence into inspiration for living more fully.
Doctor Kenneth Ring, a researcher who has studied near-death experiences for decades, noted something remarkable about people who've had these experiences; they often return with a profound sense that love is the most important aspect of existence not achievement, wealth, or status, but the quality of our connections with others. This insight doesn't require a particular religious belief or certainty about an afterlife, it simply recognizes what we already know intuitively, that love creates meaning in our lives in ways nothing else can. I think about my friend David who lost his wife to cancer, in the depths of his grief he started volunteering at a community garden she had loved. “I talked to her while I’m planting” he told me, “I don't know if she can hear me, but these conversations help me continue our relationship in a new form, and somehow I feel her presence most strongly when I’m doing the things she would have done; acts of kindness, creating beauty, laughing with our grandchildren.” The psychologist William James once suggested that our consciousness might be like a radio receiver rather than a producer of thoughts. If consciousness exists beyond the physical brain as some research suggests, might it be possible then, perhaps death simply changes the frequency rather than ending the broadcast. As Emily Dickinson wrote that it will never come again is what makes life so sweet. The awareness of our mortality can deepen our appreciation for the precious temporary gift of physical life together, yet the possibility of reunion reminds us that what we share with our loved ones, the essence of our connection may transcend even the boundary we call death.
I don't claim to know with certainty what happens after we die, but through this exploration I’ve come to believe that love creates connections that persist beyond our understanding, whether through cultural rituals, personal experiences of continued presence, or the hope of future reunion, these bonds remain part of who we are. How would you imagine reunion with your loved ones? What would you like to tell them when you see them again? Reflecting on these questions isn't morbid, it can be a powerful way to connect with the deepest parts of ourselves and with the love that gives meaning to our existence.
As we conclude this journey together, I’m reminded of what my grandmother often said, "love is never wasted." Perhaps that's the most profound truth we can hold on to, that the love we share becomes part of something larger than ourselves, something that continues beyond our limited perception, whether we meet our loved ones again in some form of afterlife or whether they live on only in our hearts and memories. The connection remains and, in that connection, that love that refuses to be diminished by death, we find both comfort for today and hope for whatever lies beyond the horizon we cannot yet see.
If you found comfort, insight, or hope in this exploration of our eternal connections with loved ones, I invite you to join me on this continuing journey by subscribing to this channel. You'll receive weekly reflections on grief, spirituality, and the enduring power of love beyond death.



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