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MM, My father came back to visit me twice after he died. He also came to visit my sister. He appeared to me one night with several other heavenly beings. Since they had no physical shape, but were pure brilliant white blinding bright light, I had no way of knowing who was with him. I assumed his mother (my dear grandmother Cooper), his brother Richard (MIA WWII), and perhaps angels, Jesus, perhaps my Grandfather... But they left after a few moments, without speaking. My dad let me know it was him. I think he was making sure I was OK, since he died on his drive back to Tulsa after visiting me in Houston.

Then a few days later he talked to me. He said "Your daddy's going on now." I said "WHAT!??!!?" and he repeated "Your daddy's going on now." and I didn't see or hear him again. We all called him DADDY even though we were grown up. Even the ribbon on his casket, attached to the bouquet said, Husband, Daddy, etc. So I am not surprised he called himself Daddy when he spoke to me.

He spoke to my sister about the time he died. He was in hospital in Dallas and they told her it was time to unplug the life support system, he was not going to survive this. She told them to unplug, and sat there in the hall, outside his room, feeling AWFUL! She heard his voice saying "It's allright."

Since then many people have told me they heard their loved ones tell them it was allright, when they were unplugging life support in hospital, right before their deaths....

My father came back to visit me twice after he died.

FWIW, my family has many stories about things like that. Even I have one. My mom smoked, and whenever she got dressed up she had this "getting dressed up" smell -- a mixture of perfume, hair spray, lipstick, and cigarettes, I guess -- that was unique to her.

At her funeral I was sitting (rather miserably) in the pew, when I smelled the "getting dressed up" smell. Later on I felt her presence a number of times. It was very comforting.

I also "met" my great uncle, for whom she was named, and who died in WWI (a family tragedy that still resonates -- he was my grandfather's identical twin.) That same uncle, BTW, taught my aunt to whistle in 1924, when she was four. He died in 1918, and the pain was such that my grandparents never mentioned him.

Apparitions of my grandparents have both been seen at our much-loved summer cabin.

There's a whole lot we don't know. Given the number of people who've had such experiences, to simply deny things like this out of hand suggests that there's something else driving the militant desire to "debunk" stories like this.