Last week’s spin cycle was about Ghosts and this week’s was supposed to be about Halloween so I’m gonna kind of go off track as I am wont to do. To make this sort of about Halloween I will suffice to say I have never really celebrated Halloween. I’ve never been big into it neither growing up or after I was an adult.
When we were kids we lived in an extremely rural area. We weren’t allowed to trick or treat and even if we had been allowed to, there really wasn’t anywhere to go. Until middle school we did have neighbors but not many. There would have only been two or three houses to go to within walking distance and there was no one willing to drive us to trick or treat so what was the point of going to all the trouble to
concoct a homemade costume (because my parents certainly didn’t have the extra money to go purchase a costume) for 2 or 3 houses? Besides, I wasn’t that imaginative or creative to have come up with something on my own and I would have been on my own for it so I just kind of ignored it.
When I started having children of my own I tried for a couple of years but I just really couldn’t get into the whole thing. Plus by then I had been convinced it was just a completely amoral and disgusting holiday that I was better off ignoring completely so I did. I became “one of those” people who either sat in my house with the lights off pretending I wasn’t home or actually leaving the house to go somewhere so I didn’t have to deal with it at all. And now? I’m kind of back to square one in that we live so far out in the boonies that no one comes to our house anyway. We live on a street that only has one other
house and their kids are all grown and the only other street on our side of the subdivision has no children living on it at all either.
So, back to my going off track. Last week Stacy (from Stacy Uncorked) wrote about her haunted clock and asked a question at the end of her post that stuck with me. Stacy’s question was: Do you believe in ghosts? Either way, have you ever felt like you’ve gotten a message – big or small – from loved ones who have crossed over?
First, let me preface this by answering that if you had asked me this question a year ago I think I would have had a totally different answer than I do now. And a lot of that has to do with my brother and having lost him to cancer in April.
I’m not sure what my thoughts used to be. I know what I was always taught but I’m not sure if I always believed that 100% either. I used to think (or was taught) that when you die you just cease to exist. You go to a place of inactivity where you await whether or not you will be remembered in God’s memory. You don’t go to either heaven or hell. You basically cease to exist and return to the earth (dust to dust) until it is decided whether or not you deserve to be resurrected to a paradise earth. But I always kind of had a problem with this because I knew there have been instances where I knew someone or something was trying to contact me or send me a message but how could that be if they no longer existed anywhere? But I always pushed those thoughts out of my mind.
But I always come back to two particular instances that stick out clearly in my mind. One happened to me as a child (which I kept pushing to the back of my mind until recently) and the other this year. When I was little I was extremely close to my paternal grandfather. He was my protector. He listened to me. He hid me from my grandmother when she’d be mad with me. He gave me a pair of wooden sandals he brought back from Korea and no one had ever done anything special just for me so he made me feel special. I was 11 years old when he died and I was devastated. We had spent practically every Sunday of my young life at their house so the loss for me was HUGE.
Even worse than the loss for me was the fact that I was not allowed to go to the funeral home or the uneral. I was told I was too young. It would be too traumatic for me at such a young age to see my grandfather dead. What was too traumatic for my young age was being denied the chance to tell my grandfather goodbye. If he had been sick and we had known it was coming it would have been different. But he hadn’t been sick and we had no inkling that he wouldn’t be there that next Sunday when we went to his house. He had a stroke (or heart attack, can’t remember at the moment) out in their yard one morning and I never saw him alive again.
I remember being very upset at not being allowed to go to the funeral and I can’t remember if it was the night before his funeral of that night after his funeral but I was by myself going through the room we called “the piano room” in the big house we lived it. It had a huge shiny mahogany door that used to be the front door but then they had built a new main road that ran behind the house so the house now sat backwards on the lot with the back of the house facing the main road and the front door facing the woods.
Anyway, I was upset and crying and going up to my room to be alone. You had to walk by the front door to get to the stairs to go up to our bedrooms. As I opened the door between the living room and the piano room and started to walk towards the stairs I looked at the closed front door and I swear I saw my
grandfather’s face and image in the door. It was dark and he was sort of illuminated against the shiny door. He didn’t say anything but he smiled at me and I could feel the love and tenderness in that smile.
I looked around to see if anyone else saw him too but I was alone in the room. When I turned back to the door he was gone. I remember being so disappointed that I had turned away and it never happened again. I was too afraid to tell anyone else what I saw so I kept it to myself but I really think he was just coming to say goodbye because he knew how upset I was. He was letting me know it was going to be ok. That I was going to be ok. It brought me a lot of comfort. I remember for years praying that he’d show up again and that I’d see him again and be able to talk to him. But it didn’t. Maybe it was just my subconscious way of dealing with the loss? Maybe not.
The other thing was this year with my brother. I know most of you know that my brother was diagnosed with cancer in February of this year and passed away on April 15. I had spent the better part of those two months at his house trying to help out with getting him to his doctor’s appointments and chemo and radiation because his wife couldn’t take off work and he had been having seizures and wasn’t allowed to drive. I knew how busy Ana was so I tried to cook and clean and my brother and I had a lot of good conversations except about the one thing I really wanted to ask him because I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. In talking to my younger sister and older brother I found out that all three of us had the same question nagging us but none of us had come right out and asked him.
So, we called my sister in law and told her that we all wanted to ask him that if he made it “to the other side” could he please send us a message or sign to let us know he made it? So, she asked him for us and he told her “Absolutely. I will absolutely send them a sign.” She asked him what the sign would be and he answered “I don’t know. They haven’t told me yet.” The next night she said that he told her “Tell
them that the sign will be peace.” No explanation what it meant, just that it would be peace. I know we all felt a strange sense of peace once he passed and my sister even got her “peace sign” in the form of an email a little while after he died.
The thing that happened to me, and has forever been burned into my brain, was: my brother passed away about 2:20 p.m. His wife called me about 15 or 20 minutes later to tell me that he had passed. I
called my sister who called my other brother. I had already planned on going back to his house that evening. I already had my bags packed and was just waiting for my hubby to get off work for us to leave. I was sitting in my living room around 2:50 p.m. when my home phone rang. I picked it up and glanced at the caller ID but it wasn’t a phone number or area code that I recognized but since my brother had just passed I thought it might have been someone who had heard and was calling about that. I answered the phone and there was silence. I said hello like 3 times and no one said anything. Then the line got all static like and then the line went dead. I immediately called the number back and I got a recording saying that I had reached a number that was disconnected or no longer in use. WTH??
I then called the number from my cell phone and got the same recording. I still think that was my brother’s way of letting me know he was ok. How else could I get a phone call from a disconnected number? And I’ve had it happen twice more since then and both times when I was really depressed thinking about my brother or really upset about something. Same number because I had kept it in my cell phone. And both times when I called it back I got the same message. The number was disconnected or no longer in use. Well, it’s in use… Just not by anyone here.
Maybe both coincidences? Maybe not….