"Psychic Detectives," "Hauntings," Ghost Whisperer" reveal an interest in the paranormal. Spirits, incorporeal, that manifest themselves many times are tortured souls forced to wander seeking justice. Others are of loved ones who visit for various reasons--to give solace, support, or merely to say goodbye. I wish to relate a few events which seem to give credibility to this desire to believe.
The first happened after my husband had died from the ravages of colon cancer. My daughter, who was a wild child, had gone with the school band to march in the Apple Festival. The day was so beautiful. A light, balmy breeze swirled on this October day and beckoned me to hang clothes on the line. While enjoying the simple task, I clearly heard a voice calling, "Stacey." I stopped, looked around but saw nothing. Saying I was upset is an understatement. Clearly, I experienced an increase in my heart beat and wondered what could be happening. Was my daughter all right? I returned to my chore. Again I heard the voice so plainly, "Stacey." And again, I stopped, looked around but no one was to be seen. I thought, "That sounded like Woody!" I waited impatiently until the bus brought my daughter back to me. Stacey had been remiss in her responsibilities on the band trip. She had left the group and ventured out on her own. I know that before my husband died, he was very concerned about Stacey. He hated leaving me to raise our children alone, especially Stacey. Was he watching over me, warning me that she was having problems? "Rebellion! Grief does crazy things to one," I thought.
Another incident didn't happen to me, but to Rob, a state police office, who does our mowing for us during the summer months. After my dad had died, Rob was mowing that summer. He had never met my dad nor seen any pictures of him. As Rob was mowing toward the family cemetery below our house, he looked up and saw a man standing by one of the trees looking toward him and our house. "Who is that," he thought, "someone who has had trouble?" He would check and offer assistance upon reaching the cemetery. However, when he neared the place and looked up, the man had disappeared. Later, Rob told Larry, my hubby now, about his experience. Larry asked him to describe the man. Rob described my father--his overalls, short-sleeved gray shirt, head cocked to one side, body relaxed with hands in the pockets of his overalls. Dad had always taken care of the family cemetery. After learning of Rob's encounter, I wondered if perhaps my dad were checking on Rob, making sure that he was doing a good job taking care of those long passed.
My dad appeared to my mom during her five years without him. My dad never spoke to my mom. He would sit on the side of the bed, watching her, smiling his sweet, sweet, childlike, innocent smile The several times that mom was in the hospital after her falls and in the nursing home for rehabilitation, dad never appeared to her. She would beg to go home to see dad again. Was he satisfied that she was receiving good care? Or were these appearances simply the illusions of a lonely, old lady?
The last experiences of my mom's occurred when she was in the hospital the last time, a week before she died. I was with her every day. Each morning she would relate the details of her nightly visitors. One morning, mom spoke of her mom, my grandmother, coming to see her. Mom was growing weaker, slipping away from me. The last morning that my mom could respond to me. Slowly, she rasped that daddy had come to see her. I thought at first she was speaking of my dad, but she proceeded to describe how he sat on her bed and asked, "Well, sis, what are you doing here?" I then realized that she was speaking of her father, not mine, for grandpa always called my mom sis. That was the last time my mom was able to speak to me. Did they come to comfort her, to accompany her on her last journey?
We want to believe that those we love are near us, even after death. Is it then our terrible longing that creates images of our loved ones? Those that we could ask are no longer with us. Possibly when we take that same journey, all things will be revealed. Will we have someone to come, to comfort, to accompany us home?
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My son had passed away almost a year before Nic his brother's young son fell down the stair's.Long winding steep stair's.Michael was not only Nic's Uncle but his Godfather too.My daughter inlaw was in panic running down stair's after Nic.She could hear Nic laughing,she rounded bend in stair's and Nic was in middle of hall-way.He said to a crying Venus,me fine,Unk Mike caught and flew me thu the air...[SMILE]At two how would Nic know to say that??I believe it was Nic's Guardian Angel,Michael..[HEART]
I also believe in Angel's..
I know our loved one's from the past visit us in time of stress and pain.
[SMILE]
"Each morning she would relate the details of her nightly visitors. One morning, mom spoke of her mom, my grandmother, coming to see her. Mom was growing weaker, slipping away from me."
How common is this I wonder? Guess it's a way to help the living pass over, by the friends and peers and family coming to "visit"
[HEART]