I have been meaning to write a post about this subject for quite a while, and after yet another reminder, I know it’s time to heed the Universe and start writing!
There have been many stories of people who have been visited by the spirit of a deceased loved one. Often it happens at the same time or shortly after a person has passed on. One last visit to say goodbye and that the deceased is happy and at peace. Instances of photos falling, or more like flying, off the wall and found propped up in a favorite chair of the deceased. A scent of a very distinguishing or specially-made perfume permeating the air to let you know that someone special is there with you. Realistic dreams where you speak to your deceased loved ones and when you wake up, you have to remind yourself that they are no longer living.
I’ve had ghostly experiences, but one that made such a profound impact on me is one that I don’t share very often. Mainly because when it happened and I said something about it, my brother-in-law was next to me and gave me a “She has gone completely bonkers” look. Granted, that is a look I get from him quite often, but given the time and place, it was even more dramatic.
My paternal grandparents were typical Midwestern folk. Both grew up on small farms outside of a small village in northwest Wisconsin. They married in 1935 and took over my great-grandfather’s farm. The quiet and stoic German and Norwegian backgrounds, along with attending the Lutheran church up the road (which the land it was built on was donated by my great-great grandfather who emigrated from Germany in the 1880s), definitely reflected in my grandparents demeanor. Not overly affectionate, and emotion wasn’t shown very often, except for some intense moments while watching the Green Bay Packers.
My grandparents had been married for 54 years when my grandmother died of cancer in November 1989. My grandfather took my grandma’s death so hard. He’d come to the farm (my parents took over the family farm in 1962 when they married) just about every day, just to get out of the house. He’d often sit on the couch and cry. I never once saw my grandparents hold hands, kiss, or show any affection, so it was such a shock for me to see my grandpa cry.
Grandpa had a couple strokes in his later years and spent the last few months of his life in a nursing home. He died in November 1996, seven years after Grandma had passed. We all thought it was a blessing that Grandpa was finally at peace because he was so miserable in the nursing home, which was a block away from the house he had lived in since 1962. We also knew that he would be happy because he would be reunited with Grandma.
After the funeral in the little church where my grandfather was baptized, confirmed, and married, we walked outside in the cold to the adjacent cemetery where he would be laid to rest. It was a cold and grey day in early November. The leaves had fallen off the trees and there was a gusty wind to settle the chill in all of our bones. As my family members huddled, for comfort and warmth, around the casket and under the canvas canopy that was erected over the grave [Grandpa had worked for the funeral home for many years, and the sky looked like rain that day, so Mark make sure that Grandpa had the royal treatment that day.], the minister started to speak. As soon as he said, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” a huge gust of wind tore through the canopy. Hair and coat flaps were flying, people struggling to stay upright. I had been crying but immediately froze. That wasn’t just wind. It was also the spirits of my grandparents who were finally reunited. I knew that it was both of them and they were happy, free, and together. As soon as the pastor finished speaking, the wind immediately stopped and all was still. My eyes were wide open and I had a look of shock on my face, still wet with tears I hadn’t wiped away because I was frozen in shock. My brother in law, who was standing next to me, looked at me as if to ask “Are you okay?” I said “Grandma and Grandpa were here. Their spirits were just here with us.” That’s when I got the “She’s gone completely bonkers look,” and he immediately turned his face to the ground.
I’ve never brought it up to my family members, but it has been 14 years, and they are more accepting of my intuitive ways, so it might not be considered so off the wall if I did mention it again. I’m sure my brother in law would still think I’m bonkers, but that’s a given. It was a moment that brought me so much comfort, and I’m so very blessed to have experienced something as profound as what I did.
They haven’t let me know that they are around in such a strong manner as the day of Grandpa’s funeral, but there little reminders here and there of them that I stop and think “Are you here?” Even if they aren’t, I’m triggered with such a strong memory, usually one I had forgotten, and send out a silent “miss you” to them, but with a smile on my face.
Have you had visits from loved ones who have passed?