That’s what separates good journalism from bad, the New York Times from the National Enquirer.  Confirming sources.  Facts.  Research.  A healthy, questioning dose of skepticism. 

There’s an important reason I’m telling you this:  I want you to know that I am not easily swayed.  My training, my career, my life, my nature combine to create an overwhelming urge – maybe even need – to be skeptical. 

Yet I believe every word in every story contained in this book. 

The facts guy within required me to find confirming sources where I could, so, to the best of my ability, I confirmed the circumstances of each story in this book. But what I can’t confirm – none of us can – is that the signs the interview subjects told me about were sent from heaven.   That’s where faith comes in.

Faith.  Such a simple concept, yet such a daunting challenge.  Most often, when the “facts guy” struggles with the “faith guy,” it’s no contest.  The facts guy wins, because without confirming sources, he is uncomfortable.  Lack of confirmation means lack of certainty in the truth.  But faith, and in particular a belief in heaven, requires us to believe without confirming sources.

So it took me a while to believe.  Not to believe in God – I always have – but to believe that our departed loved ones can and do send us signs that they are in a glorious new life.  The “evidence” is simply overwhelming.  Everyone I’ve talked to – from the deeply faithful to the deeply skeptical – believes that the experiences they’ve had are more than coincidences.  They don’t need a confirming source.  Somehow they just know.

And somehow, I just know too.  I looked into the eyes of each of my interview subjects as they recounted their stories.  The depth of the passion in the eyes doesn’t lie. 

And somehow I know that the signs that our daughter Kate has sent me are not mere coincidences, they are messages.  They are so strong, so perfectly timed, and so defy logic that even a “facts guy” comes to the conclusion that our loved ones do indeed send us messages from heaven. 

It is comforting for me to know that the “facts guy” and the “faith guy” can coexist.  But after unspeakable tragedy, where the very fiber of your being is in intense pain, where you question the core of your faith, believing is hard work.  Very hard work.

But if you open your mind and your heart to the possibility that your lost loved one can send you messages, perhaps you will receive signs too.  And hopefully those signs will help restore your faith.


I’m a facts guy.  Not born that way, trained that way.  I was brought up more as a blind faith guy, but since my only career has been journalism, I’ve spent my entire adult life seeking facts, seeking confirming sources, seeking the truth.

It’s been so long that it’s part of me.  My wife Jill is also trained in journalism, and we both remember one of our college journalism professors saying “Even if your mother says she loves you, you still need a confirming source.” 

© 2012 Mark Zoromski