A Son's Messages from the Afterlife

Young man in the afterlife
Photo: Laara Cerman / Leigh Righton Photolibrary / Getty Images

A series of remarkable events convinces a mother that life continues after death

No one knows for certain what happens to us after we die. Do we simply cease to exist? Or does our energy – our personality or spirit – continue on some other plane? Most people think there is a life after death, and every once in awhile people experience events that forever convince them that life after death is a reality. Paula Jenkins, who suffered the loss of her son, is one of those people who received a special message. This is Paula's story.

I LIVE IN Houston Texas and I have decided to share my very own proof positive, so to speak, of the afterlife activity that has gone on in my home since the death of my youngest child, Christopher Michael Jenkins (April 3, 1983 – December 5, 2002).

Christopher was a very bright, talented young man. He was 19 years, 8 months and 2 days old when he crossed over. He was a high school graduate, an accomplished artist in drawing caricatures, and could play keyboard, bass guitar, lead guitar and drums. He liked to make up new lyrics to old songs, like Weird Al Yankovich, with his own melodic satires. He had just been promoted to Chef where he worked and was going on to culinary school. His dream was to open his own restaurant.

Christopher never met an enemy he couldn't make a friend. He started a rock band with his older brother. He had plans – big plans – and he was going for them; the whole pie in the sky, not just a piece of it.

He was 6'4" and 360 lbs. at the time of his death, and there was nothing he couldn't do.


Then Death came. It was a cold, overcast, wet, gray December day. Chris had moved his room into our den, which had sprung a leak the night before, and had moved his mattresses into the living room.

I had just gotten back home from taking my oldest son to work when Chris came into my room. He had awakened and felt cold. He asked if he could sleep in my bed. "Sure," I said. After all, he may be way bigger than I, but he was still my baby. He crawled under the blankets. He told me, "I love you, Mama" and I told him, "I love you too, Punkin." Those were the last words he would ever speak to me.

Twenty minutes later, my daughter – my firstborn – showed up. She couldn't seem to get her new cell phone working, could I help? Of course I could, I am SuperMom! She was online activating her phone when it started. Chris was snoring. Loudly, as usual. Then he got really loud and it startled us. We looked at him. Chris's legs started shaking. At first I thought he was having leg cramps; he often got them while he slept. I started rubbing them and talking to Chris, but got no response.

My daughter raised his head up and his eyes were rolled up in his head. She screamed, "Mom! Something's wrong with him! I'm calling 911!" While she frantically called for help, I stood up and rolled him over. My heart stopped when I saw the blue ring around his mouth. My son was dying. I screamed, "Oh, God! No!

Not my baby!" We started CPR immediately. His girlfriend and brother-in-law ran into the room (they had slept over the night before). I had my son-in-law take over for me while I desperately tried to contact my husband at work 12 miles away.

The ambulance arrived. They gave him shock treatments to stimulate his heart. But we were getting no response. An hour later, they pronounced him deceased. My baby... gone forever.

Or was he?

Next page: Chris signals


Chris had always told me he would never leave home or leave me behind, that he would always take care of me. He was going to make sure that neither I nor his dad would ever be in an old folks home. Now he was gone. Why? They could not give us a reason for his death. His death certificate read the cause of death "unknown" until August of 2003. They finally amended it to read "Cardiomegaly with left ventricular hypertrophy." Basically, he had a hole in the left ventricle of his heart that gave out, causing a massive heart attack.

So they say.

In April, 2003 we had a memorial birthday gathering for him. Almost all of his friends were able to make the event. None of them will ever be able to forget that day. We had a tape that Chris and his band had made the summer before his death. I decided to have the band members play with the tape in tribute and memory of Chris. I thought it would be like having him there with us again.

I was both surprised and happy that he made an appearance for the crowd.

We put the tape in and pressed play, the band started playing with the tape. As Christopher's voice sang on the player, that's when it started: first it was just a blink of a light, then a few lights blinked in unison. Then it spread to the rest of the house. Every light, TV, computer, stereo in the house was not only blinking on and off, but going on and off at different, random times. Then suddenly it all went dark.

"He's here," I said.

"Chris is with us!" All the kids there snickered nervously. One of them said jokingly, "Chris, if it's really you, turn the lights back...!" Every light in the house roared to life, before he could utter the word "on". Seventeen young people went running out my front door. Party over. Not too many of them want to come over and visit too often anymore, but some still call to keep in touch.


A week from that day, I had a dream (that's what I call it), where I was riding on a road up a mountainside. I experienced wonder at why I was on the mountain in the first place. I did not know anyone who lived in the mountains, but the vehicle continued up the mountainside. I wasn't driving the vehicle, but I never saw anyone driving, nor were any words spoken. I don't know what type of vehicle it was. Then it turned off the road and came to a stop in front of a nice wood log cabin. It had a wrap-around porch and seemed very well maintained. I remember looking down and reaching for the door handle and opening the door. I just knew that I was at my destination.

Keeping my eyes on the cabin's door, I stepped out and without looking, shut the door behind me. I experienced bewilderment, still trying to figure it out. When the front door flew open, out walked my baby, Christopher! I screamed his name out loud and started running toward the cabin steps as Chris ran toward me. I literally jumped into his arms and hugged him crying, kissing him, touching him. I couldn't believe it was him. He laughed, then we cried as we held on to each other tightly.

He guided me inside the cabin.

It was very nice, not overly done, no electronics, and I could see his room in back. I told him how much I missed him, how we all missed him. How it was all a mistake, how we wanted him to come home. He hugged me tight. "It wasn't anyone's fault," he said. "There was nothing you could do, Mom."

He assured me that he was fine -- lonesome, but fine. He told me he missed his brother, sister, me and dad, and the nieces and nephews that he loved so much. And he gave me a message to give to his friends: He will be waiting for them and us and he is okay. I told him I wasn't going back. I was going to stay with him. I grabbed him tightly and told him I was never turning him loose, ever. I wasn't about to lose him again!

It went dark, like someone turned off the light. I felt vibrations. My whole body seemed to be violently shaking back and forth.

Christopher and his cabin were now gone lost in darkness. Then I heard, faintly at first, someone shouting my name, a voice in the dark crying out, "Where are you? Where have you gone?" The shaking became more violent, and I realized that someone was shaking me back and forth. The voice was getting louder. Finally I recognized the voice. It was my husband.

"Open your eyes, baby!" he shouted. "Breathe, baby, breathe!" I felt a slap. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. I was back in my home. I burst into tears. He grabbed me sobbing, "Where have you been? Where did you go?" I was so overwrought and crying so hard, I whispered, "I was with Christopher!" I had lost him again. My husband had awakened at 2 a.m., went to the bathroom and when he returned he had noticed that I was unusually quiet for sleeping. He listened to me and could hear nothing. When he tried to wake me, there was no response. He had started shaking me to wake me up. He said he thought it took him five to 10 minutes before I opened my eyes.

Next page: Chris keeps his promise


That following Saturday, a customer that frequented the store that my husband was managing at the time stopped by the house to give his condolences, as he had heard about the birthday fiasco through the grapevine. A self-proclaimed pastor, he wanted to assure us that Chris was not haunting our house, that the only ghost there was the Holy Ghost. Chris, he said, was now doing other spirit-related things or had been reborn.

That's when the lights started again. Slowly, at first... a flicker here, a flicker there. Then the computer, which had been off, booted up by itself. The lights were now dancing on and off throughout the entire house. My husband and I sat next to each other on the couch, while this man sat in a chair opposite of us. He asked how we were making the house do that? We both held out our hands to show him there was no remote, which he was now accusing us of using. The lights blinked faster. I would not say he ran screaming; it was more like power walking and praying out loud, but very loud. He has never returned or tried to contact us again. The light show stopped as soon as he left the house.


The next day, Sunday, my granddaughter Kelsey and I went to the local store to get gas and pick up some goodies. As we left, I noticed my neighbor standing in her flower bed with a shovel. I must say that I did not give it much thought at the time.

When we returned from the store, she was still standing exactly where she was before. I sent Kelsey over to see if she was okay. It turns out she found a small snake and was terrified to move, even though she had severed its head from its body. She's not from Texas.

I ran over to her, took her shovel, shoveled up the body parts and tossed them in the trash can.

I walked her into her house. She was pretty shaken up. I decided to tell her about my visit with Chris. (She had known him for a few years.) When I had finished telling her about visiting him at a cabin, she just turned pale and said, "Stay right there! Don't go anywhere!" and she disappeared into the back of her house. When she returned, in her hands she carried a log cabin birdhouse! I was stunned. Other than some decorative signage on it, the cabin was an exact replica of the cabin where I had gone to see Chris!

Before I could regain my voice, she started telling me about how on Easter Sunday -- the day we had Chris's gathering -- she had gone shopping at Wal-Mart and down every lane she went she would see this birdhouse. She said she got the eerie feeling it was "following" her around the store. She said she got such a strong feeling that she was supposed to buy it. And since it had followed her, she did purchase it. And after I had told her about my visit, that's when it hit her -- that the cabin was for me, to confirm that I had indeed been to visit Chris.

On the day that my son passed away, as we were coming home from the hospital, I noticed my neighbor quickly leaving her home.

Where was she going? She had just received a phone call telling her that her aunt and cousin had been in a fatal car accident, and her cousin had been killed. They died in the same hour. Was it her cousin who drove me to see my son on that mountain? I believe it was.


In August of 2003, I purchased my first digital camera. When it arrived, I started checking it out and shooting anyone who walked through my bedroom door. My room wasn't even prepared for picture taking, but I hadn't planned on keeping any of the photos; I was just checking out what the camera could do. Then I downloaded the images to my computer. I was in the process of printing out the good ones, when I noticed some irregularities in three of the photos.

In July, 2004, I was using my digital camera to record my oldest son's songs that he wrote when we heard extra lyrics added to one of the songs.

To me, it sounds like Christopher's voice. Out of six recordings of the same song, only one has the lyrics added. Chris's brother has resurrected the band after almost two years. He wants to continue the dream they started together.

We still hear from Chris from time to time. Recently, Bash, my daughter's boyfriend, brought over his blender to make strawberry margaritas for after dinner. I was doing the dinner dishes when he started. I watched him plug the blender in, he added the ice and Tequila, then turned around to grab the strawberry puree from the top of my fridge. The blender started blending on its own. I jumped and turned to look at Bash and he was frozen in place. We looked at each other and kinda snickered a bit. He reached over to turn off the blender. It wouldn't turn off! Bash unplugged it. He took a few breaths and then added the puree to the blender. Then he plugged it back in and finished making the drinks without further interruption.

Christopher had always told me that he would never leave me. He is keeping his promise!