15 January 2018

L

ike most of us, I occasionally wondered about the afterlife but never focused my attention on it. It wasn’t until my son, Christopher, was killed in a motorcycle accident in 2006 that my urge to know was born. In the midst of a fetal position, wailing in grief, I heard the call from spirit: “Get up. Look up. Reach out. Connect with me mom…”

What I didn’t know at the time was that the death of my son would catapult me on the greatest adventure of my life and help to usher in the new after death communication (ADC) called the “orb phenomenon.” Immediately after Christopher’s death, I began to experience contact with him. Various ADC’s like flickering lights, phone calls, unusual animal behavior, the feeling of spirit in the room, vivid dreams of the deceased, etc., happened on a regular basis. This contact with my son was validation to me that there was something more to death than just the ending of the physical body.

The loss of a child is one of the most challenging experiences we can have. It is also a time when we can move away from our belief in a higher power (God for me) and contract into our grief and loss. This dense vibration can hinder our connection with spirit. Yet, clinging to that connection or more importantly the belief in that connection actually aides in our healing and offers us the opportunity to connect with our loved ones in spirit.

A great example of the variations of orb colors we can capture. One theory suggests the color of an orb or lack thereof relates to the spiritual development of that particular soul. Photo© Naomi Fugiwara

As a parent in grief we would do anything to have our child back. While that is not humanly possible, there are many ways they can communicate their presence to us. For example, I had just moved into a new house and wondered if my son knew. Suddenly, a hummingbird flew in through the sliding door and landed on my fingertips. He stayed for 10 minutes while I spoke to him and then carried him outside to the patio. During that time, I could feel my son’s presence. I continued to have unusual hummingbird experiences all the while knowing that Christopher was using them to communicate with me. Each time, I marveled in gratitude at the miracle and wonder of this little creature. With each experience the pain of grief faded. Not everyone would have this type of encounter that in my soul knew was a connection with my son. If only there was a way to prove this connection to spirit for those who struggle to believe…

Seek and ye shall find

One night, 20 months after my son’s death, a brilliant ball of light the size of a ping pong ball appeared in my darkened bedroom. It darted across the room, made a sharp left, darted another six or eight feet and disappeared, leaving a trail of light similar to a sparkler twirled on the Fourth of July. My rational mind spun with all the earthly scenarios from a burglar with a flashlight to a hallucination. Then I considered something of a different nature. Could the ball of light have been a spiritual event? A light from God? Was it a new kind after-death communication? Was it an angel, or better yet, did it have something to do with my son?

Subsequent research on the internet revealed photos and differing explanations. The word “orb” is generally used to describe a ball of light seen in digital photos. They can appear as a sphere of light, circle of light, oval of light, ball of light, disc of light, and being of light.

A collage of orbs in the shape of hearts. One possible way to communicate love from the other side. Photo© Naomi Fugiwara

Skeptics are quick to point out that orbs are really dust, moisture, or lens flare. As a life-long skeptic of spiritual phenomena, I grabbed my compact digital camera to see if I could capture an orb. I could! With the infrared light from the flash, I briefly watched them move into a room like a school of fish. I also ran tests with my camera to learn the difference between dust, moisture and lens flare—which can appear similar to orbs.

The more I thought about orbs, the more often they appeared. There seemed to be a consciousness connected to them. Soon I was able to feel when they moved into the room much like the goose bump feeling one gets when spirit moves into the room. It was then easy to grab my camera and shoot.

At first, I only captured white orbs but later on I began to see colored orbs in my photos. On occasion, faces of people and animals appeared inside of the orbs. More research revealed that some near death experiencers have described themselves as a colored ball of light either leaving their body or crashing back into it. Hospice workers and family members have also described a small ball of light leaving the body at the time of death.

Ask and it is given

Armed with this information, I wondered if it was possible to capture an orb with my son’s face inside of it. I reached out to spirit and continued to take orb photos. In 2011, I captured a beautiful orb in my kitchen with a little boy’s face inside. I wondered whose child he might be since my son was 25 when he crossed. It wasn’t until 2016, after rummaging through some old family photos, that I realized the little boy was my son Christopher. I had the proof I needed and had asked for from spirit.

It was a powerful and precious moment. A validation that we live on albeit in a different form. For those who have lost a loved one, orb photography can help us make that leap of faith. A simple digital camera can become our window to the divine.

Photo left is a cropped original orb photo with young boy’s face inside. Photo upper right is a picture of my son Christopher at six years old. Photo lower right is the enlarged orb photo showing Christopher inside. Photo© Virginia Hummel