My first contact with Homer began unexpectedly and without fanfare. On Thursday evenings I facilitate a Conscious Change Circle. It could be called a prayer circle, intention circle or manifesting circle. The first hour is spent sharing; in the second hour we create an intention circle, blending our energies by holding hands during a guided meditation. During this time we have two empty chairs, symbolically acknowledging and inviting in the energies of those members who were not able to attend and those unseen to us who might wish to be present. It is our way of acknowledging the unseen world and inviting its presence in for guidance.

We never know what is going to happen during these circles but there is always a lot of laughter. Once a group member was asked, “What do you do in there?” When finding out we were a meditation circle, the young man shook his head and remarked that we sure laughed a lot for a meditation group. We like laughter. It opens us up.
During the meditation we are casual but focused. We might ask for clarification on something someone put into the circle; sometimes we feel unseen visitors are in the room; once in a while someone will get psychic information for another and share it; but most often we simply put into the circle what each of us wants to manifest for ourselves, loved ones and the globe. The group holds each intention with loving thought.

Thursday, 10 April 2003 was no different than any other night. We visited for the first hour, shared stories, and started our meditation late. Midway through the meditation someone asked to put a “Marge” into the circle because her husband had recently passed away. As is normal, others continued to add their intentions, but I was distracted by this short, bouncy, enthusiastic, square-ish light at the other end of the table, tapping people on their shoulder, gradually moving closer to me.
I asked about the name of the husband who had passed on because he showed up right when Marge's name was mentioned. I was told, Homer. I asked if he had a bouncy, busy energy about him and six people simultaneously responded with an emphatic “Yes!” I was surprised so many people knew this man. I mentioned that since he was standing here he might want to say something. Everyone respectfully waited.

I could feel Homer's stunned response, “You know I'm here?” he asked immediately. “Yes, of course,” I reply telepathically, “would you like to say anything?” I was immediately blasted with an intense energy. It was as if he wanted to make sure he was heard. “I'M ALIVE! TELL THEM I'M ALIVE!” He said this as if he might get only one chance to get one message through. I relayed the message to the group and then asked Homer telepathically if there was anything else.

Once again he blasted me with intensity, still trying hard to make sure he got through and was understood, acting as if I were psychically deaf - it was a bit overwhelming. He wanted everyone to know that he was going to be at his memorial service and he wanted everyone to really KNOW he was alive and would be there. I saw Homer standing in the front, center left, of a formal church-like setting, dressed in a nice suit wearing a soft pink rose boutonniere on his left lapel. (Because the Peace Rose is my favorite and a soft pink color, I wondered if this image was to get my attention or whether it had meaning to his wife, family or friends.)

Homer seemed pleased I passed this information on. We continued our circle. I, like others, continued to add intentions into the circle and yet I was still attuned to Homer. I sensed his mind starting to wander. He was still standing by me but had thoughts of a woman I assumed to be his wife because I saw him sitting on the edge of a bed lovingly and gently stroking the face of an older woman who was clearly in distress, gently talking to her, telling her how much he loved her. He felt sad and helpless. He wanted so badly for her to know he was right there, that he wasn't dead, he wasn't gone; he was right there.

As we continued our circle, Homer's attention came back to me. Out loud I acknowledged that Homer might want to say something else. This time he didn't shout to be heard; he was much quieter, obviously relieved. With gentle gratitude, he acknowledged us, “Thank you. No one has heard me. You're the first ones to hear me and know I'm okay.” I relayed the message. He quietly asked me, “Is it okay if I come back?” “Of course,” I replied telepathically. I immediately had a funny feeling wash through me, and got the impression he wasn't coming back alone. Homer was making plans.

I did not know Homer or anyone in his family until his wife's name came into our prayer circle and Homer showed up. It is my guess that when Marge's name was mentioned those in the circle who knew them immediately thought of Homer, which may have drawn his attention and presence to us.

Addenda
Two days later
Margie Anderson, a woman in our Thursday Circle, called me this morning insisting I write this story down. I hadn't planned to write it up but got such a strong “feeling” with her insistence, I consented to do so. Please understand that I get “information” all the time. If I wrote it all down, I'd never get anything else done. One other thing of coincidence - I received an e-mail notice of Homer's Memorial Service at St. Francis. I never receive these things. I think I might go and see if he really is going to show up in that suit with the pink rose on the lapel.

4 months later
When Homer asked if he could come back and I got that “interesting feeling” that he was “making plans,” I had no idea my life was about to change so dramatically. Everything I'm documenting is written as it happens - when it happens. I had no idea what would happen next, if anything. I still have no idea and this is four months later.

Note from Ellie: Around midnight, two nights after Homer showed up at our Circle, he woke me up. Before going to bed at night, I meditate and have done so for years and years. Immediately upon sitting down to meditate, my inner Chinese teacher showed up. This was odd, since he shows up rarely to begin with and then only after I’ve been in deep meditation for nearly an hour or more. On this particular night, this teacher showed up effortlessly, which should have told me something different was going on. He briefly, but urgently, spoke to me about three things to remember - because we didn’t have much time. I reviewed these in my mind before going to sleep so I would remember to write them down in the morning.
I went to sleep. Something woke me up. I remember being startled, looked around and saw everything was fine. I went to the bathroom, then remembered the message of my Chinese teacher. Since I was having a hard time remembering only a couple hours later, I thought I’d better go over to my desk and write it down. As soon as I did, I recognized the presence of Homer, and realized it was Homer who woke me up. I could hear his thoughts. And so I started to write down what I was hearing.

“I watch over her when she sleeps.” Homer is thinking of Marge, his wife. “I hold her. Tell her I love her. Tell her I’m sorry I had to leave, but I never wanted to leave her. I hope she sees me in her dreams. I’m more comfortable here now. It’s not at all like I thought it would be. There are no words I could give you to describe it. It would be like trying to describe God. Words miss the fullness, the completeness, of being here so that any sense of here would be missed. Words are like describing a dot in a painting. Is it part of the painting? Yes, of course, but it is so little, you would never know what the picture was from one dot. And this painting would have to be bigger than the whole world. Words are like using one grain of sand to describe your whole life experience on earth. It cannot be done. It must be experienced. Understand? So anything I share is irrelevant for what I know my friends would want to know. ‘Details Homer, give us DETAILS.’ I can just hear them. What is relevant is that I’m alive. I hoped to be able to come through to give you peace. To let you know I’m okay.

Tell them sound is important. More/as important than light. Do more research on sound sound sound sound sound sound sound . . . . . . Not outer auditory sound but inner sounds. Sound is everywhere here. There you hear a tone or piano key played and you hear one note. Here, there isn’t such a thing. The only equivalent would be if the global population were playing in an orchestra. That is one tone here. Use inner tones for healing. Using the inner tones accesses/brings through healing from here. It will heal sadness, depression, broken bones (break)

(Note: I’m freaking out that I couldn’t possibly write down all the diseases Homer was going on about, people would think I was crazy! I stopped writing. However, just because I stopped writing didn’t mean Homer stopped talking. I took a deep calming breath and continued to listen in, then write down what I was hearing.)

“How? I can hear you ask this, Charlie, even before you see this. The inner tones heal by focusing your intention like a laser. The key, I think, will be to develop the ‘feeling’ of each individual you are working on or the issue (healing need) you are dealing with. If an inner tone feels right or feels wrong you will feel right or wrong.
I have to go now. Tell Marge I love her. But she needs to know/accept I’m okay and that I haven’t left her. If you want to see if I can get through to you, think of me. Hey, fellas, I’m a good looking guy over here. I’m still a shorty but not so big. And I’m healthy. I’m okay. I’m really okay.”

Addendum
4 months later
That was it. It was late when I wrote it and it took up three hand written pages. I heard the name Charlie as clear as a bell; however, I immediately doubted it. I didn’t know if Homer or Marge knew any Charlie - I didn't even know Homer or Marge! This was all just crazy. Women from the Thursday night Circle who knew Marge and Homer Hefty called Marge up to tell her that Homer had shown up with a message that first time. When Homer showed up the second time, Circle member Margie Anderson let Marge know I’d heard from him again. I consented for Margie to give my phone number to Homer’s widow in case she wanted to hear the story first hand. One day I got a call. We decided to meet. Two strangers with something in common.

It was two days before Homer’s memorial service when I met Marge for the first time. I met her at a coffee shop on Speedway and Country Club in Tucson. As soon as I walked in, I knew who she was. Her energy exactly matched what I experienced when Homer thought of her. We sat down, and I shared with her what had happened in our Circle exactly one week before. Marge told me the only two people with Homer when he crossed over were her and Charlie.

As we visited, Homer showed up unexpectedly. I get a distinct “buzz” when he is around. As Marge would speak, Homer would add to the conversation. For expample, Marge said that Homer had cancer and he wasn’t conscious much the last month. But Homer said he wasn’t in his body much during the last month and that he’d been preparing on the other side. When his body finally stopped, he wasn’t in his body at all, but standing beside Marge - watching. Marge cried, thankful he hadn’t been in any pain.

I had been afraid that meeting with Marge would be hard for her. It was very stressful for me because I didn’t want to cause her any harm. She had just lost her life-mate, her husband! I was relieved when Marge said she found a lot of comfort in it. I was very relieved this meeting was over and this beautiful woman hadn’t thought me crazy. I thought that would be the end of it. I could get on with my life. Little did I know what was yet to come.