Have you ever experienced the death of one of your parents, how did you feel at that moment and what happened then, after a long time? My dead husband protects me and helps me live: a real story Mystical story about my dead husband

The loss of a loved one is a great grief and an irreparable loss. Here are 8 shocking stories about people who could not come to terms with the loss and part with the deceased person. They somehow continued to live with their loved ones who had left them. Not for the faint of heart!

The man who spent every day at his wife's grave for 20 years

When Rocky Abalsamo's wife died in 1993, a part of him died with her. In sadness and anguish, Rocky spent every day for 20 years at her grave in St. Joseph's Cemetery in Roxbury. He hardly ate or drank while he was there, and came to the grave despite the cold or bad weather.

On January 22, 2013, Rocky died at Stonehenge Health Care Center in Roxbury after a long illness; he was 97 years old at the time of his death. He was buried in the same cemetery as his wife Julia. Their graves are very close - Rocky does not part with her even after his death.

Vietnamese man sleeps in the same bed with his deceased wife

In 2009, Vietnamese citizen Le Van made it into all the local newspapers: it became known that he had been sleeping in the same bed with his dead wife for five years. Two years later, reporters from the Nguoi Lao Dong newspaper contacted Le Van again, and he confirmed that he continued to sleep next to the body of his beloved. The authorities, of course, cannot do anything about this.

Le Van sleeps in the same bed as a plaster statue containing the remains of his late wife. During the funeral, the man realized that he could not live without his beloved, so he dug up the grave, removed the remains from there, placed them in a plaster statue and continues to share a bed with her.

The 57-year-old Vietnamese explains that in this way he hopes to increase the chances of their reunion in the next life.

Georgian woman takes care of her son who died 18 years ago

Joni Bakaradze died 18 years ago when he was 22 years old. But instead of burying him in a cemetery, the family decided to keep his body intact so that his two-year-old son would one day be able to see his father's face.

For the first four years after Joni's death, his mother Tsiuri Kvaratskhelia used embalming fluid to preserve Joni's body, but then she had a dream in which someone told her to use vodka instead. That's what she did: Tsiuri made vodka poultices every night to prevent her body from turning black and starting to decompose.

For the first ten years after her son's death, Tsiuri dressed him up for every birthday. But the older she got, the more difficult it was for her to care for her son the way she was used to. She says the neglect quickly became noticeable and her son's face turned black, but as soon as she used her alcohol tincture again, his face turned white again.

Joni's body is currently kept in a wooden coffin with a window facing her face. Tsiuri says her grandson, now 20, saw his father's preserved body and believes his grandmother made the right decision.

An Argentine widow sleeps in her late husband's mausoleum to keep him company.

An Argentine widow named Adriana Villarreal sleeps in the small mausoleum where her husband is buried to keep him from getting bored. A 43-year-old widow from Buenos Aires came to the attention of the media in 2012 when she admitted that she spends several nights a year in this mausoleum.

According to the police commissioner from the city of Dos de Mayo, Gustavo Braganza, his colleagues decided to see what was happening at the San Lazaro cemetery, since several people complained that loud music was playing there. They knocked on the door of the mausoleum, and the door was answered by Adriana Villarreal in her pajamas. It was evident that she had lived for some time next to the coffin and embalmed body.

The police examined the tomb: it turned out that the woman had even furnished the mausoleum - she had brought a bed, a radio, a computer with Internet access and even a small stove.

Adriana's husband, Sergio Iede, committed suicide in 2010, when he was 28 years old. Adriana built a mausoleum for him with the money he saved to buy a house.

A widow slept with her husband's decomposing body for a year after his death.

The woman slept with her husband's decomposing body for a whole year, until this terrible fact became known to the authorities in November 2013.

79-year-old Marcel H. from Liege, Belgium, died in November 2012 from an asthma attack. The wife's grief was so strong that she did not find the strength to report her husband's death and continued to sleep with the body in the same bed until authorities intervened.

They came to the widow only because the owner of the apartment complained that this family had evaded paying rent for a year. The body was not mummified, but, surprisingly, the neighbors never complained about the unpleasant smell.

A man lived with his mother's mummified body for more than ten years, and it was only discovered when he himself was found dead.

Claudio Alfieri, 58, was found lying in a chair in his Buenos Aires apartment next to the remains of a woman. Her body was wrapped plastic bags, the feet were wearing slippers, and the body was sitting on a chair at the kitchen table.

Police and firefighters raided the apartment after neighbors complained of a foul smell. Forensic experts and neighbors identified the woman as Claudio's mother, Margherita Aimer de Alfieri. Neighbors said that the last time they saw this woman alive was ten years ago, when she was 90 years old, but her son continued to claim that she was alive and well. An autopsy revealed that both mother and son died of natural causes.

Husband kept wife's death a secret for 35 days and treated her as if she were alive

The contractor went to work and lived for 35 days ordinary life, while his 42-year-old wife's body decomposed in the bedroom of their two-story home in Damai Impan, Malaysia.

When family friends asked about her, her husband answered vaguely, never giving any reason to think that something was wrong. But his wife Lim Ah Tee died on September 2, 2013 after complaining of chest pain.

According to police, their 16-year-old son knew his mother was dead but gave his father time to come to terms with the reality of her death. The grief-stricken man reported his wife's death to the police only when the stench became impossible to bear.

The police were shocked - they found the body on the bed, clean and in fresh clothes - this indicated that her husband washed and changed her regularly. The room also smelled strongly of perfume - probably the husband sprayed it everywhere to cover up the smell of a decomposing body.

The guy hid his father's dead body for five months to receive benefits.

In March 2012, the man was jailed for three years after police discovered the body of his 54-year-old father, Guy Blackburn, on the bed of his home in Lancashire, UK. The son did not report his father's death for almost five months because he wanted to receive benefits for him.

29-year-old Christopher Blackburn lived in the house next to the body, but did not report the death of his father, who died of natural causes. It also turned out that Christopher’s ten-year-old daughter lived in the house - she was told that her grandfather was simply sleeping in his room.

Blackburn pleaded guilty to denying his father a decent burial between October 31, 2010 and March 22, 2011, and to embezzling £1,869, which he took from the post office on his father's behalf. Blackburn also lied to police, saying he spoke to his father in November 2010 and had drinks with him on Christmas Day.

As of 2009, my husband and I had lived together for 24 years. It was Saturday, I was supposed to get paid (which I did). On Sunday we planned to buy linoleum to re-lay in the hallway.

But in the evening, when I was driving home, my son called and told me to hurry home. I asked what happened, but he said that I would see for myself. When I arrived, I saw that my husband had a stroke. I called an ambulance and explained that the site was with my husband, but, nevertheless, the ambulance took 2 hours. Then there was the hospital, intensive care unit (he was in a coma), well, everything else that came with it.

At that moment I had complete shock Moreover, the doctor did not give any hope for recovery upon admission. On Monday, under anesthesia, he underwent a brain tomography. There it turned out that he had completely right hemisphere covered in blood, they didn’t even offer us surgery. I didn’t know about this, that you can simply stop a brain hemorrhage with surgery. Okay - that's the past.

He got up and began to walk, although all the doctors unanimously said that with such indicators he should be a vegetable. Then there were 6 years of suffering in hospitals and VTEKs, where the doctors gave him group 2, like he was recovering. But this was not the case, he had severe brain damage, mood swings, aggression, then sweet treatment. The last time was at VTEK in August 2015. He was given a permanent 2nd group. Further, he was so aggressive that in the evenings he shouted at me: “May you die before the morning and so on in the same spirit.”

It's December 2015. It was December 9, I was driving home from work by minibus, and then I had a vision of what to do if he died, who to call, etc. I arrived, he was sitting near the stove (we live in a private house), he said to me: “If I could live until morning, it’s so good near the stove, I would die here.” I started swearing at him that I had nothing to bury him with and so that he would calm down. He replied that people would help. I had a nervous site of stress, he wanted to go to bed. I heated up the stove and also went to bed (I have to get up early). At half past four he started calling me, I jumped out and called an ambulance. He died at 04.50 am on December 10th in my arms. The ambulance arrived at 5:00.

While the ambulance was driving, I sat stupidly next to the body, my son met the ambulance. And then the TV started beeping (turned off). I had a panic, I now understand that when his soul left his body, he gave me a sign, but then I became scared. Then after the funeral, somewhere on the 9th day, I woke up screaming, he was calling me by name, just like the night he died. I jumped off and ran, naturally there was no one and nothing. We live next to the cemetery (5 min walk). Sometimes I hear him scream, he calls me by name. I asked people, it turns out it’s not just my name.

When I come to the cemetery, I always say hello to everyone, then I go up to his grave and talk to him. Why is life so unfair? I really miss him. The funny thing is that we got married on May 10, 1986, he had a stroke on December 10, 2009, and he died on December 10, 2015. When he became paralyzed, he was 47 years old, when he died, I was 47 years old. So don’t believe in fate and...

Comments (7 ) to the terrible story “The mysticism of numbers in the life and death of my husband”:

A very sad story, losing loved ones is always difficult, but you have a son, hang in there! There’s just one thing I can’t understand: why, when your husband had a stroke, your son didn’t call an ambulance, but called you.

Thanks for the sympathy.
My son arrived 10 minutes before me and, due to his youth, did not understand anything. I don’t understand why he moans and falls. He tried to put him on the bed, then he fell into a coma. Coma in stroke patients is a very terrible thing.

LANA, thank you for the story, it is really very interesting and life-giving! Firstly, please accept my sincere condolences on the death of your spouse; it is very difficult to come to terms with the passing of a person with whom you lived most of your life. And yes, unfortunately, our glorious medicine is far from up to par, and the story about the ambulance taking 2 hours and the rudeness and lack of attention from the doctors will surprise no one. If you look at history from a mystical point of view, then indeed, the number 10 runs through your husband’s entire life; by the way, the Mayan peoples believed that ten contains both the beginning and the end of the cycle of any development. For example, birth and death. In your case, this is also true, on the 10th you started a family, on the 10th he died. The only thing we must remember is that our life is very diverse and numbers have their role in it, but not a determining one, and only the person himself determines his destiny, through his deeds and actions.

Thank you for your condolences Yuri Vasilievich. All the best to you. I hope everything will be fine for me too. You just need to get through it all. Thanks again

LANA, as an addition, the site is mystical, so listen to what really worries me in the mystical plane. You write that you miss your husband very much, you miss him, sometimes you hear his call from the direction of the cemetery... all these may be signs of “necrotic attachment”, because one of its reasons is the reluctance to let go of a loved one after his death, constant thoughts and worries about him. Here are the main signs of necrobinding: weakness, pain in the legs, severe depressive states, thoughts of suicide, unusual dreams and visions, an obsessive feeling of someone’s presence nearby, changes in behavior, character, habits, sudden mood swings. Necro-binding is dangerous because a person is seriously drained of vitality, and illnesses, troubles, injuries fall on the person... There are many ways to remove necro-binding, but it seems to me that the simplest and most effective is self-control. In many ways, necrobinding is manifested by obsessive thoughts, an “alien” inner voice, and changes in behavior. By controlling these moments and not succumbing to the will of the deceased, you can weaken him and break off contact. And remember that life goes on, be active, walk more, do your favorite and interesting things, improve yourself, both physically and spiritually, and love life, because perhaps it is given to us only once, and nothing else will happen!

Thank you, Yuri Vasilievich for your support. Yes, indeed, for 2 and a half years every night I experienced his death, right down to the feelings that I had at the moment of his death. I closed my eyes and saw this whole scene before my eyes. I ate myself that I couldn’t save this time either, but I myself understood that not everything is in the hands of a person. This happens less often now, but it still happens. Sometimes I see him in completely ridiculous dreams. I think that he is trying (he loved me very much) to push me away or something, so that I don’t suffer so much. At least it seems so to me. I went to the cemetery very often, then I got very sick and it felt like I was bringing something from the cemetery. My neighbor scolded me and said that I need to go to the cemetery only on those days that exist for this. Now I rarely go to the cemetery. By the way, you are right, I began to get sick often, and now I have also broken my leg. I’m thinking about probably removing all his photos from the house, sometimes I get the impression that he’s watching me. This is a mystical site, so don’t judge me too harshly for just expressing my thoughts.

And also, about the fact that we have one life and will not have any more. When I was little and my grandmother (in those Soviet times it was taboo) talked about God. Then I couldn’t explain to her how this was happening, but I knew that this was not the end. She and I went to visit her friends and I said (I was about 5 years old) when this grandmother will die. She asked how I knew, and I just shrugged and said I didn’t know. I have never made a mistake. And when computers appeared, it dawned on me that we are just files and when our life ends, we fly to the server, and there we are already sorted according to our affairs. Who is normal, and who is a virus and is ready to be destroyed. I don’t know where I got this from, but it just came somehow. That's why I think there is no end to life.

Several years ago, a great tragedy occurred in our lives: I lost my beloved and caring husband, and our daughter lost her father, whom she loved very much.

We met at school and got married as soon as I graduated - my husband was 2 years older than me. Very soon I became pregnant - it was a great joy for both of us. For some reason, from the very beginning, Sergei was sure that we would have a girl - he really wanted a daughter. I know that most men dream of a son, but in our case everything was different. When the ultrasound confirmed the baby’s gender, he was in seventh heaven, literally carried me in his arms and dreamed of how he would braid her hair himself. When Lika was born, he immediately took upon himself all the concerns about her. Moreover, I did not breastfeed her much - Sergei himself got up at night to change her diaper and feed her from a bottle. When the baby grew up a little, he carried her with him everywhere, I was even jealous sometimes, it seemed to me that he and his daughter lived in some kind of their own world, into which they were not too willing to let me in. They always went everywhere together, they had their own affairs, even their own secrets.

In order to be with us constantly, my husband even refused a very prestigious and profitable job in the North: we could not move in with him, he worked on a rotational basis: two months on shift, two months at home. As I remember now, Sergei took the separation from us very hard - and I could not quit my job, my established life, or leave my elderly parents alone. In the end, Seryozha found a suitable vacancy and moved to us. But he worked outside the city - 70 km, and he had to travel this distance by car every day. Of course, I was very proud of this, although my husband was offered a room in a hostel, he could easily stay overnight there and come only on weekends, but every day he traveled almost 150 km just to be near us, to spend the night at home, with me and with daughter. And then one day it all ended.

I still remember that terrible day - almost every detail is preserved in my memory. I was taking a test at the institute, so my daughter was left at home alone. She waited for dad to return from work and happily prepared dinner for him. It may be very simple - it was just ordinary mashed potatoes and sausages - but the most important thing is that it was prepared with great love. By the way, they both loved sausages very much, and I often scolded them for overeating on this unhealthy food. Therefore, they tried to seize the moment when I was not at home. Having set the table, Vika sent an SMS to her father. Usually he answers her, but not this time.

Vika was waiting for her dad to come home from work, but he still didn’t come back. Vika tried to call him several times, but to no avail, the phone was turned off. Finally, she called me and asked if I knew where dad was. I couldn't reach him either. And I immediately realized that something had happened - Seryozha did not have the habit of turning off his phone, he was constantly in touch with us. But I couldn’t even imagine that at that moment he was already dead. We only found out that there was a car accident the next day - as it turned out, my husband’s phone was also broken, and therefore no one could tell us.

The identification, the funeral - all this passed for me in a fog. And then I started having dreams. Seryozha came to me in a dream, hugged me, stroked my hair. Every night I went to bed with the hope that I would see him again. In a dream, my beloved was next to me again, I dreamed that he was sitting next to me on the sofa and running through my hair, or we were walking somewhere and he was telling me something tender. Whispers how much he loves me. After each such dream, I wake up with extraordinary lightness in my soul. Sometimes it even seems to me that a dream is my everyday life, and reality is what happens in a dream.

You know, sometimes people talk about how, before the death of their loved ones, they were visited by some premonitions, there were some signs, signs. I won’t lie, I didn’t experience anything like that, although now it seems to me that the special tenderness that we felt for each other was such a sign. It is possible that my husband tried to spend so much time with me, and especially with my daughter, precisely because he had a presentiment that he did not have much time in this world. However, I don't remember anything that directly points to this. On the contrary, we constantly made some plans for many years to come. We were going to celebrate his 35th birthday at his mother’s house - there was much more space there than in our apartment; we could gather all our relatives, friends and colleagues. We have already started purchasing food and putting together a holiday program. Unfortunately, the tragic death made some adjustments to it - our loved ones gathered not for my husband’s anniversary, but for his funeral.

And now these dreams. I am sure that my beloved is constantly, every minute, next to us. That he turned into our daughter and I’s guardian angel. He charges me with his warmth, helps me tune in to the good. If I need to feel his presence not at night, but during the day, I take his terry robe, which is still hanging in our closet, wrap myself in it, and it seems to me that Seryozha is still next to us, that I am in his safe embrace. It seems that not only I feel it, but also Lika - I have already caught her several times sitting on the sofa, wrapped in this robe.

A month ago I was admitted to the hospital - I had to undergo a difficult operation. Of course, I was very nervous, afraid, not so much for myself, but for the fact that I might leave my daughter an orphan. And before the operation I had another dream. I dreamed that I was approaching the edge of a huge high cliff. I stand and peer into the emptiness that opens right under my feet - it’s dark there and nothing can be seen. And at that moment Seryozha appears from behind, he hugs me, I feel the warmth of his reliable hands, and takes me back from the edge of the abyss. He turns me towards him, runs through my hair, strokes my head. “Baby,” I hear his voice, “don’t worry about anything, don’t be afraid, I’m with you. Everything will be fine". When I woke up, I was sure that the operation would go well and I would quickly get back on my feet. And so it happened.

The car the couple were in crashed into a foreign car. This was due to unfavorable weather conditions. “A lot of snow has fallen these days. Snowdrifts a meter high lay on both sides of the road. Friends were sitting in front, we were in the back. Nastya lay down on my lap and fell asleep. Suddenly, a snowdrift explodes in front, and a black minivan flies out from under it, which drifted from the oncoming lane directly into our lane and crashes into a KamAZ. At a speed of 100-120 km/h, we fly into a black Nissan standing across the road,” the 50-year-old businessman shared with his subscribers.

Realizing the inevitability of a collision, Shakhijanov did everything to save himself and Nastya. “In these two seconds before the collision, I grabbed Nastya’s head, which was lying in my lap, with my hands, and I myself, turning my back to the driver’s seat, pressed myself into it. I did this unconsciously, since my brain at those seconds was busy thinking about what was better: disability or death,” he continued.

The impact of the collision was so strong that the Nissan flew into the oncoming lane, where another car crashed into it. Fortunately, all those involved in the accident survived. And Lisova, when she woke up, at first didn’t even understand what had happened.

“The airbags deployed in all parts of the cabin, and there was a smell of gunpowder. After the blow, Nastya ended up on the floor, but I held her head tightly. Being unharmed, she stood up and asked what happened. The result: four cars and nine people took part in this meat grinder,” Mikhail noted.

Law enforcement officers who arrived at the scene of the accident were surprised that no one was seriously injured in this massacre, because, according to statistics, such accidents are often fatal.