With Halloween fast approaching we see images of the supernatural everywhere. From skeletons to headstones we are reminded of our inevitable demise. Television programs on every channel exploring supposedly haunted locations. As a friend of mine said, “They sure are a lot more ghosts than they used to be!”
Being a Southerner, death is a simple matter of going on to a different place. I can only speak from my prospective and I know that I personally have had experiences that make me wonder.
My Grandma was a big influence on my spiritual side. She read me the bible and let me ask questions. She didn’t always know the exact answer but we’d research until my curiosity was satisfied. Grandma shared with me the story of after her parents had died they came back to see her one night at the foot of her bed. She’d even suggested that she’d come back and see me but promised not to die until she could see me as a Mother. Honestly, I wasn’t too fond of the idea of that kind of visit. True to her word, she passed before my son Chase was a year old. When God took her home, my world changed but my life had to go on.                                                                                                                             A few months later with the sun shining through the window, I was taking a nap on the couch. I’m Not sure what woke me up as I lay on my back, but I opened my eyes to see at the end of the hall my grandmother. She had on a silky, baby blue night-gown. Never taking my eyes off of her, I sat up as she slowly came around and set down next to me. Just like she’d done so many times, she put her arms around me. I could feel her, I could smell her and I could even hear her though her mouth never seem to move.  The only thing I can remember hearing her say is, “It’s all going to be all right!” in a tone of pure love. As she cradled me in her arms, my eyes flooded with tears and then she simply disappeared. I literally wiped my eyes and she was gone. The shirt I was wearing looked as if I’d had poured water on it from my tears. Eyes red as beets and completely stunned, it was beyond understanding what had just happened. After I told my husband, he brought it to my attention that she had been wearing a baby blue gown when she’d passed. He knew because he’d helped carry her out of the house. For me that was a confirmation of sorts.
Years went by and just like everyone I’d lived through a few unhappy moments. But none compared to losing my eleven year old son Chad in an accident. That was a pivotal and emotional time for me. I lost all faith. God and I were not friends. Agnostic was the title I would use. But in time I had to completely rationalize with myself that what I had seen was proof. My proof. No doctrine just what I was seen with my own eyes. I know I’ll see everyone I’ve lost again. I haven’t had anyone else visit me, not even my son. I believe with all my heart, God knew that they’d be a time that I’d still need what Grandma had always instilled in me, “There’s more life after this life!”



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