My husband tells me I’m crazy. My sister tells me I’m connected. I say I am open. I don’t know why, and I don’t question it. Since I was twelve I have been visited by people I love.
The first time it happened, it was a favorite neighbor my family called Grandma. I remember waking in the middle of the night and saying goodbye to her. The next morning, Mom told us Grandma had gone to heaven the night before. I knew she was fine and ate my breakfast.
For many years, I would have a dream about someone and know. Sometimes it isn’t a death, I’ve told women they were pregnant before they even had any idea. But the deaths are the most stirring. With my father’s passing, I woke from a nap with a feeling that I had been shocked. Four years ago my husband’s grandfather was near death. We went to say our goodbyes and after everyone left the room, I sat with him and told him to go home. “We will be fine and I will take care of your boys,” I said. He squeezed my hand and smiled as he slipped back into sleep. While in bed that night, I heard him talking to me as if he was whispering in my ear. “Tell my boys I love them but I had to go home to Grandma. You be good.” I replied in a low whisper for him not to worry, we would all be fine. As I thanked him for being the only grandpa I ever knew and told him I loved him I felt the air blow near my face and he was gone. I sat up to look at the clock, 1:33 a.m. I lay there for over an hour waiting for my father-in-law to call and tell us the news. He didn’t call … until the next morning. As I sat there, next to my husband I knew what the call was about. With tears in his eyes he told me Grandpa had died around 1:30 a.m. All I could say was, “I know, and he wanted me to tell you …” He sat there looking at me as if I was crazy. But I knew what had happened.
The next visit was a few months later when my mother died. I woke up very early in the morning, grabbed my phone to call the nursing home, and confirmed what I knew. She was not gone but was in the process. In the process, what a strange term because the nurse did not know. Mom was visiting each of us kids. She had told me not to let anyone in the room but the staff until after she was gone. She gave motherly advice and told me she loved me, she would always be in the garden, and that she and Dad were proud of me. Dad had been gone for fourteen years. She kissed me and I saw her leave with an angel on each side. Without knowing my experience each of my siblings had a story of something happening early that morning before Mom took her last breath.
Recently, I told my husband to call a friend because his mother had died. He replied, “Because she visited you?” I shook my head and said early this morning. He didn’t call. Later, he told me that even though he thinks I’m nuts he will listen the next time.
These events aren’t scary. In fact, they are comforting. It reinforces my belief in God and for the most part my family has learned to listen to me or at least humor me.