Wake Me Up! Love And The Afterlife

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR

WAKE ME UP!

This true story of a love lost to violence proves that love is never lost, and that life continues past the point we refer to as death. Lyn discovers the truth of Chip’s survival on the other side and takes us along on her journey of awakening. The story is riveting. I found it impossible to put down. Lyn came through the disbelief and grief of having the love of her life snatched from her and has written the story of her transformation to assist others going through similar circumstances. She shows courage and strength on every page.

—Linda Moore, Author of Memories of Magdalene

"Lyn writes a story that is both heartbreakingly sad and beautifully validating. What I loved about reading her book is that it came from her own experiences—it validated things I experienced since my husband’s death. I have read many books about the Afterlife, but this is the first one where I truly felt validated. Not only was it her truth, it was mine too. I completely identified with Wake Me Up!"

—Lynda Matthews, Author of A Breath Away

"Wake Me Up! is one of the most riveting accounts of Afterlife communication ever written. As an Intuitive and Medium, I receive messages and signs from crossed over spirits daily—but this is stunning. It kept me on the edge of my seat. You will cry, laugh and have your heart filled with the wonder and enchantment of life on the other side."

—Leslie Dutton, Intuitive & Medium, Scarborough, Maine

How Chip’s Afterlife

Saved Me From

Myself

LYN RAGAN

Copyright © 2014 by Lyn Ragan.

Published by Lyn Ragan

No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of Lyn Ragan, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WAKE ME UP! How Chip’s Afterlife Saved Me From Myself

Interior and Cover Design: by Lyn Ragan

Cover Vision: Chip Oney

Edited by Marley Gibson

Cover Photo © CanStockPhoto, Inc.

Trade paper ISBN 978-0-9916414-0-6

eBook ISBN 978-0-9916414-1-3

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For my husband…

Christopher Chip Oney

5/5/1966 - 1/23/2008

Contents

Advance Praise

Title Page

Copyright Information

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Other Books by this Author

True Story Statement

One: The Cause Of The Pain

Two: Imprisoned

Three: Shipwrecked

Four: Infiniti

Five: This Day Never Ends

Six: Saying Goodbye

Seven: Evil Eyes

Eight: It’s Just A Dream

Nine: He’s Alive

Ten: Getting Noticed

Eleven: Hard Answers

Twelve: I’m Okay

Thirteen: Magic Day

Fourteen: It Doesn’t Have To End

Fifteen: A Ball Of Energy

Sixteen: Tap, Tap, Tap

Seventeen: Second Opinion

Eighteen: Rocky Mountain High

Nineteen: The Reading

Twenty: Meeting In The Mind

Twenty-One: I Am Your Husband

Twenty-Two: Reach Out

Twenty-Three: Endless Possibilities

Twenty-Four: Till The End Of Time

Twenty-Five: Déjà Vu

Twenty-Six: My Sister

Twenty-Seven: Happy Anniversary

Twenty-Eight: Tug Of War

Twenty-Nine: Talk To Me

Thirty: Baby Steps

Thirty-One: He’s My Brother

Thirty-Two: Validations

Thirty-Three: Pictures

Thirty-Four: He’s Third Partying Again

Thirty-Five: Happy Birthday

Thirty-Six: Butterfly

Thirty-Seven: Magical Moments

About The Author

Acknowledgments

A big thank you to my talented and creative editor, Author and Freelance Editor, Marley Gibson (Burns). Endless gratitude to my book angels: Leslie Dutton, Linda Moore, Robert Sharpe, Lynda Matthews, and Margaret Gomez.

Deepest gratitude to Charline, the woman who gave birth to the love of my life. If it weren’t for her gift of this one beautiful soul, my life would have remained unchanged.

Special thanks to the woman who helped me amend my views and guided me to question my world—Megan Riley. Her gifts are tremendous. Without you, I know not where I would be.

Greatest of blessings to my beautiful and eccentric mom, my guiding light. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her. I thank you for giving me life and loving me throughout.

And to my beautiful sister, Deb. Words will never describe the appreciation I have for this beautiful woman. She’s my rock, my best friend—I love her more than she’ll ever know. What a blessing to be sharing this life with you.

Without Chip, there’d be no story to share. His beautiful love is truly a divine gift. How lucky am I to have shared an enormous chapter of my life with Chip not only in the physical, but from this other place called The Afterlife as well. Words can’t begin to describe my gratefulness…

Until we arrive in each others arms once more…

I will love you always.

Other Books By Lyn Ragan

WE NEED TO TALK

Living With The Afterlife

SIGNS FROM THE AFTERLIFE

Identifying Gifts From The Other Side

SIGNS FROM PETS IN THE AFTERLIFE

Identifying Messages From Pets In Heaven

BERC’S INNER VOICE

(Children’s Book)

Author, Lyn Ragan

Illustrator, Alison Meyer

This is a true story. Some names, places, and other identifying details were changed to protect a murder investigation and individual privacy. The timing of events was compressed to facilitate the telling of the story.

No part of this book is intended for educational purposes. This story is about this author’s personal experiences. Please keep in mind that no two people experience the same communications—they are as individual as humans are.

Chapter One

THE CAUSE OF THE PAIN

JANUARY 23, 2008

I would have never thought it. Not in a million years. To wake up to the sound of love, only to experience unspeakable tragedy minutes later… it was clearly a day that would change our lives forever.

At 4:33 a.m. my phone rang. Startled, I shot out of bed. I was always up by four o’clock, but today, I was late. The phone was sitting on a table across the room. I ran over to pick it up and then answered, sweetly.

Good morning, my sweetie pie.

Good morning, baby doll, my lover said, enthusiastically.

I adored our early morning calls; my daily dose of love.

While I pretended to be up a few minutes prior to him calling, I moved through the house to let the fur-kids out to potty. I walked outside, watched our dogs do their duties, and while my sweetheart talked about the night before, I marched back inside.

Chip was sharing how bad he felt. Because of his irritating cough, he said he wasn’t able to get much sleep. Meanwhile, I brought down one of our new cups he insisted we buy for Christmas. I placed it on the counter next to the coffee pot, turned it on and waited for the brewing to end.

We were both fighting a terrible cold. Chip had an early day at work planned. Yesterday, we decided to take some time off to play. I would leave work at noon, meet him at home, we’d hop in the new car we bought last week, and go for a ride.

That’ll make us feel better, he said. But today, he doesn’t sound so good. In fact, he sounded horrible.

You’re probably not going to feel like going later, are you? I asked him. I thought he might say no, so I was surprised when he replied, Let’s wait to see how I feel when that time gets here, okay?

As we talked on his way to work, I pictured him perfectly sitting in the driver’s seat of his big red Dually Dodge. I knew he was holding his maroon Starbucks coffee mug in his right hand, while resting his arm on the middle console. His left hand was hanging over the top of the steering wheel while he talked through the Bluetooth connected to his left ear.

I didn’t hear him stop to unlock the gate. Nor did I hear him take the cooler from his pickup and put it into his semi. What I did hear—was him starting the big truck. I heard the sound of the engine turn over and I knew with certainty I said, I heard you start her up, sweetie.

Yep, we started her up, I know he replied.

I then pictured him hopping down out of the semi needing to start his pre-trip inspection. He never skipped that part of his routine. But on this one morning, he only took one or two steps forward before our lives changed forever.

At this moment in time, I knew nothing.

Once I heard the truck start, I imagined him still sitting inside realizing something went wrong. The reason I assumed this was that only seconds later, at approximately 4:45 a.m., his voice growled out two big words.

Oh shit!

I instantly thought something wasn’t quite right with the truck and I asked, What’s wrong, sweetie?

But he didn’t reply.

I then pictured him getting out of the truck to check the engine. I knew that was the first place he’d go. He’d have to release the latches on each side of the hood in order to lift it.

But how did he do that so fast?

What I heard next was a horrific, loud sound blasting through the phone. So much so that I had to take it away from my ear. I couldn’t hear anything but a horrible noise that sounded like a lawnmower engine. It was deafening. It was difficult to fathom anything under the hood being that loud, but again, I still didn’t know anything.

I asked once again, Sweetie, what’s wrong with the truck?

How can he hear me if I can’t hear him?

Through the loud noise though, I continued to ask, shouting now. Chip, can you hear me?

Something felt so wrong. As I paced back and forth in my living room, I decided he needed my help. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed my keys off the counter. At that exact moment, the sound of the lawnmower engine slowly tempered off.

Sweetie, is everything all right? Are you okay?

But I got nothing back.

Suddenly, I heard what I thought was Chip sniffling. I knew then he was still on the phone.

Why isn’t he talking to me? Is he playing a bad game?

I asked yet again, Sweetie pie, are you all right?

No words came through my ear.

I charged out the front door, leaving the dogs in the house, and raced to my car. I listened intently for anything he might say. At the same time I reassured him I was on my way to help him. I lived less than two miles from where he parked; it wouldn’t take me long to get there.

I’m on my way, sweetie. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m coming to help, okay? You’re not talking to me darlin’, and you’re starting to scare me.

I could hear him breathing, but he never said a word.

Are you okay, sweetie?

I flew down Normandy Boulevard hitting seventy-five and eighty miles per hour in a thirty mile per hour zone. It never dawned on me to slow down.

You need to say something, darlin’. Why aren’t you talking to me, Chip? My heart was racing now and my legs were shaking uncontrollably. Fear had creeped in.

There was a lot of traffic out to be so early in the morning. At one point, I got stuck at a red light where I sat behind a white work truck listening to Chip’s breathing in my ear. My mind was racing wild fast.

Sweetie, do I need to hang up and call 911? Can you talk to me? You’re scaring me, Chip. I don’t know what’s wrong. Please say something to me. Please, Chip, say anything.

Still, no words echoed through my ear.

As soon as I get around this truck I’m there, sweetie.

I sped through the last light before arriving at the lot.

I’m right here, darlin’. I’m turning into the driveway right now, coming to you. I am right here!

I saw the lights shining across the lot from his truck. The driveway was bumpy as I passed the office buildings on the main road. It was so damn dark out.

I’m here, sweetie. Where are you?

And then, my eyes found him. I could see him off in the distance lying on the ground next to his truck.

Oh my God, oh my God! I yelled.

I heard those words flying all around my head in the thick air, over and over again. They had nowhere to escape.

My foot stomped the gas pedal as I rushed to his side.

I stopped not directly in front of him, but more off to the right. When I slammed the car into park and sought for him to move, I noticed streaks of blood running across his forehead. I knew I had to get help fast. I jumped out and ran toward the road. But then I thought, is he still alive?

I turned around and ran back. I searched to see if his chest was moving up and down.

Oh, thank God, he’s alive!

Disturbingly though, I saw a large hole in the back of his head. I rapidly concluded that he must have fallen off of the truck somehow and hurt himself. There was so much blood.

I knew I had to calm myself down and shut off my thoughts. It was imperative I help him. Getting off the phone was the first step.

I have to hang up now, sweetie, so I can call 911. I’ll be right back. Okay? I promise!

I hit the end button and disconnected us. I saw the blue light blink twice by his head, glowing brightly through the darkness. He could no longer hear my voice and that worried me.

I turned and ran as fast as I could. It was vital I had the physical address to get help, fast. At the same time I dialed.

4:53 a.m. — I pressed 911, but it didn’t go through. I tried again, but got nothing. I called 0, and again, I got no tone whatsoever.

4:54 a.m. — I dialed 411. I gave city and state information. An operator answered. I told her I needed 911, but now she was gone, too. It felt like a lifetime before a voice answered I was unable to register.

I had long reached the road and was waiting in front of the mailbox, staring directly at the property numbers.

I shouted, Is this 911?

She responded, Yes.

Instantly, I yelled it out.

I need an ambulance at 9501 Normandy Boulevard.

I repeated it two more times with complete verbal accuracy and no southern drawl. I insisted on having no mental errors. There could be no mistakes.

I remember the 911 operator asking me questions about my relationship with Chip and after I answered, I made sure to tell her about the large hole in the back of his head.

In my fogginess, all I could think about was how we needed help immediately. I don’t think I said it out loud, though. And then, out of nowhere, she put a man on the phone.

He asked if Chip was still breathing.

I don’t know, I told him. I came out here to the road to get the address. I’m going back right now.

I ran to Chip as quickly as I could. While I was running, I glanced at his truck. The hood wasn’t raised. It was intact as though nothing had been touched.

Why didn’t I see that before?

I hurriedly tried to piece it all together.

So he didn’t go under the hood? What was that noise then? How’d he get hurt? He must’ve fallen off the truck and hit something. That’s it, he fell.

Once I was beside him, I repeated it again to the 911 operator. He has a large hole in the back of his head.

His head was resting in a mud puddle combined with a large amount of his blood. I couldn’t tell if it was brain matter or if it was bone lying right underneath his head. I walked around him and squatted on the left side of his body. I stared at his face noting how calm he appeared and then I watched him breathe.

His chest moved up and then slowly down. He appeared to be asleep, yet snoring loudly. I’d watched him sleep many times before—it was exactly how he looked now.

There were streaks of blood that made crisscross marks across the top of his head.

How did you get these blood marks, Chip? They’re odd. And I don’t see anything else on your face.

I’d mentioned Chip’s snoring to the man on the phone. He told me he was gasping for air.

And then he said, I’m going to tell you what you need to do to help him breathe easier until help arrives. I will instruct you step-by-step.

First, he said I’d have to lift Chip’s head back by placing my hand under his neck. I did. I buried my hand in the mud and pushed as far as I could under his neck, and then I tried to lift him.

He didn’t move. I couldn’t budge him. He was so heavy. The man told me again I needed to lift his head back to open his airways, so I kept trying.

I placed my phone on top of his stomach and I positioned myself above him with my hands under his neck. With both hands now locked, I lifted with all my might.

I still couldn’t move him. His head seemed to be stuck in the mud.

I picked up the phone and asked the stranger a question.

Are you sure you want me to do this when the hole on the back of his head is so big? I was terrified I’d make it worse for Chip and cause him to lose blood faster.

I don’t think the man replied to my question, or either I don’t remember what he said. The next thing I heard was him telling me I needed to clean out Chip’s mouth so he wouldn’t choke on anything.

By this time, my hands were downright muddy. The only thing I could think of was putting all that mud inside of his mouth. I wiped my hands on my clothes and tried to clean them as much as possible.

I leaned forward, closer to his face, and right when I was about to open his mouth, he took a breath. He scared me and I leaped back.

God, I can’t put my filthy fingers in his mouth. I can’t make this worse for him than everything already is.

I knew he was breathing because I was sitting there watching him. But I felt totally