Shortly after my grandmother was laid to rest, I went to my father’s house to borrow his lawn mower. “It’s at your grandmother’s house.” He said. “In the garage. Would you mind bringing it back here when you're done with it?" He had been working over there, cleaning the place up, getting it ready to sell. When I got there the garage door was unlocked. So I went in. Before we moved here ourselves, this had been our Florida home for a few weeks every summer while I was growing up. Lots of good memories of family vacations. I wanted to have one last look around, but the door from the garage to the kitchen was locked. I checked for the nail under the work bench, and sure enough, the key was still there. When I entered the kitchen, I had this overwhelming sense, not of my grandmother, but my grandfather. It didn’t make any sense. He’d been gone for ten or twelve years, and she had just passed. The furniture was all gone. But there he was, sitting at the kitchen table, eating his lunch. When I went into the living room, he was there, sleeping in his favorite chair. I didn’t see him with my eyes. In a way, it was more real than that. If I had actually been able see him, and closed my eyes, he would have still been there… If you know what I mean. I looked around a little more, blew it off as just residual memories, took the lawn mower, and left.
Later, when I returned the lawn mower to Dad, he was working in his own yard. He was down on his knees pulling weeds or something. With out looking up, he said, “Did you go inside?” “Yeah. Why?” I asked. “Did you see anything?” “No.” I said. “Nothing?” he pressed. Then I told him that when I went inside, thoughts of his father hit me like a ton of bricks. This made him stand up and look at me.
He had been over there a few days before, fixing something in the far end of the house. From the other end of the house, he could hear the glass shower door rolling back and forth on it’s tracks. He went to see who else was in the house with him, but found no one. This went on a few more times when he finally said, “Stop it Pa! You’re scaring the hell out of me!” It didn’t happen again.
Then he told me that before Grandma's funeral, my cousin was sent to the house to pick up the dress that she was to be buried in. When my cousin lifted the hanger off the rod, and turned to leave the large walk-in closet, Grandpa was standing in the door blocking her exit!
Dad then told me something us kids hadn‘t been told about at the time… There was another retired couple in the neighborhood that my grandparents were very close to. They played cards every week, etc. Shortly after Grandpa died, His buddy, Leo tried to kill himself. He told his wife, “I have to go! Stan (my grandfather) needs me!” He failed that time, but about a year later, managed to put a bullet in his head.
On the flip side of all this, my mother passed away a year ago. My brother and I had those same duties of cleaning her place up to sell it. We spent a lot of time there painting and stuff… She is not there. Neither is her mother, who’s place it was before it was Mom’s. They have both moved on to a better existence. My brother and I were there in the hospital with Mom when she passed. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace at that moment… No fear… Like everything was happening as it should.
That’s how I want to go.
Topic: Supernatural experience (Read 20391 times)
