A shared universe › Blog › Feeling close to someone who has gone · Español
Sensing the presence of a loved one who has died is common: in a classic study, almost half of widowed people had experienced it, and most had not told anyone. In itself it is not a sign of illness; what is worth noticing is whether it comforts or distresses you. You feel they are in the room. You hear their voice saying your name. You talk to them while you cook. And you do not tell anyone, in case they think something is wrong with you.
In 1971 the Welsh doctor W. Dewi Rees interviewed 293 widowed people in an area of mid-Wales (227 women and 66 men), four out of five of all those living there. Nearly half told him they had had experiences of their husband or wife after their death, which he called hallucinations or illusions.
It was unusual for them to have told anyone, even close friends or relatives. The experiences were most frequent in the first ten years of widowhood and sometimes went on for years. Rees published his work in the British medical journal BMJ and concluded that they were a normal and helpful part of widowhood.
Rees did not find them more frequent among people who were more isolated or among those with depression. They were more common in people widowed after the age of forty, in those who had had a happy marriage, and the longer the marriage had lasted. In other words, they had more to do with love and shared years than with being unwell.
Feeling close to someone who has gone is one of the forms the bond takes when the person is no longer here. For many people it is a comfort: a way of carrying on talking to them, of not feeling they have gone completely.
More recent research adds a nuance. A study of mothers who had lost a child found that what made the difference was whether that bond felt more comforting than distressing: those who experienced it as a comfort had fewer symptoms of distress. What matters is not so much what you sense as how it makes you feel.
Many people keep quiet for fear that others will think they have lost their mind, or will brush it aside. If someone confides something like this in you, what helps most is listening without judging and without trying to explain it. You can ask how it felt and whether it did them good. Sometimes being able to tell it once is already a great relief.
If these experiences frighten you, give you orders or stop you from living your life, talk to a professional, starting with your GP. If they keep you company, there is nothing to fix.
And if the sorrow of their absence becomes unbearable, do not go through it without company. In Spain you can talk to a person at the Teléfono de la Esperanza, 717 003 717, at any time. If you are thinking of ending your life, call 024: it is free, confidential and answered 24 hours a day. If there is immediate danger, call 112. In another country, call your local emergency number or a helpline there.
In A shared universe you can light a star “For someone who is gone” and write what you would say to them. Whoever reads it will know what you mean.
Other people will keep it company with a touch or with words of remembrance and comfort. If you would like to read more about how the bond with someone who has gone continues, you can see Staying connected to someone who has gone.