Since moving up to stay with Pop, I’ve been somewhat disappointed. My Mom passed away in November of 2006, and I really thought that I’d be seeing and feeling her all around me here. Her “stuff” is everywhere. Although we packed up some clothes and and such, there is still so much of Mom’s physical presence all over the house. Her knick-knacks, her blankets, her favorite photos and paintings, even the paint-by-number edition of The Last Supper she did when I was about ten years old still hanging on the wall. Her ashes are even still on her dresser, right in front of the scary doll who used to sing Happy Birthday.
Okay, maybe the doll’s only scary to “some people”. ::cough::
I really haven’t seen Mom, though, or felt her very close. Occasionally there will be a wisp of thought that startles me, makes me think she’s there, but when I try to congeal the mists, nothing happens. With my dad being ill, I expected her presence to be strong and ever-present.
It made me sad.
Then last night, I was gifted with a smile that, even though things this morning feel the same as they did yesterday, brought me comfort.
I’m sleeping, due to my own rib injury making it impossible to get comfortable on Mom’s hard mattress (no, it has nothing to do with the doll), on the den couch. This gives me a direct line of sight all the way through the kitchen, dining room, and to the wall beside the front entry door. Pop likes some light at night, so we leave the hood light of the stove on, which illuminates that entire vision pathway enough that I can see, even in the dead of night, the solid forms of the side table, lamp, and wall sconce on that entry wall.
I’m not sure what time it was. It was definitely before four a.m. when my dad got up to give the cat some food. Missie is demanding, to put it politely, and if she decides she wants a snack, she’ll pester him till he gives in. (If I called the shots, she’d have been broken of the habit long ago, but what can ya do, she’s not my cat. ::smile::) I know it was earlier, because when I saw Dad come out to the kitchen, I thought, “Now that is really Pop this time”. Earlier, I was very aware that Pop was still asleep in his room.
Anyway. I digress. (I do that a lot.)
I woke in the middle of the night, sometime, facing across the line of sight, and could see that wall. A shadow passed from the direction of the door, moving toward the living room. It moved just past the side table and wall sconce … it was dense enough to obscure part of the sconce and all of the objects on the table from view … and disappeared.
It was over five feet tall, as it was tall enough to block out a portion of the sconce, which reaches maybe six feet at the tip. Mom was about five-three when she died (and would have argued that she was still five-five and a half if asked), so the size match was there.
In the split second that the shadow registered, I wondered what Pop was doing wandering in that direction, but immediately realized that he was asleep in his bed. There was no sound involved, and the shadow was too short and moving too quickly for him.
Just as my mind really registered what I was seeing, it was gone.
I went back to sleep with a big smile on my face. Mom’s been here all along. It was her nature to deal with life quietly … why should things be any different now that her life is pure spirit form?
Things feel the same as ever this morning, but I’m no longer disappointed. Mom let me know she was here, and I had a visual, “physical” experience to confirm the fact.
All is well.
Love you, Mom.
Have you had a personal experience with seeing, hearing, sensing spirits? Have you seen evidence of their presence? I’d love to hear about it! Feel free to leave a comment!
No related posts.