When my Grandma, who I was extremely close to died, on the night of her wake, while I was trying to fall asleep, in that place between awake and sleep, I heard her voice clear as a bell say, "Hi Erin, we can have a cup of tea any time". The tone of her voice was overwhelmingly happy. I jumped up in bed not shaken, but ecstatic for the peace she sounded to be in, and that it seemed one day we could meet again. I believed it was her trying to tell me she was ok, that everything was ok, in life and after. She would have tried to do that for me if she could, I know it.
I looked at my clock and remembered it was precisely 3:31am which meant I had drifted off to sleep a little. I told my mom about it the next day and she looked at me funny and said do you know what time it was? I told her the time and the look became a huge smile. My mom told me that she heard "Hi (my mom's name)" from my Grandma at 3:30am. This was my Dad's mom, but my mom was just as close to her as I was.
Last night my favorite cousin who had a rough life and who died several years ago from an overdose said Hi Erin to me in the same way, knocked me straight up in bed. His tone was joyous, happy, content. I felt so good about it.
Now I know I probably sound crazy but has anyone else had similar experiences?
- And got the T-shirt
My dad, whom I adored, died when I was eight. He was funny, and fun-loving, and Christmas was his favorite holiday. The first Christmas after he died, my mother and I had been away from home because my oldest nephew had just been born. We got home just a day or so before Christmas, and decided to put up a Christmas tree.
We couldn't afford purchased decorations for the tree, but mother always made "snow" out of powdered ivory soap. It was the last thing to go on the tree, and when we'd finished, she went to the kitchen to wash the "snow" stuff, and I went the other direction to the bathroom to get ready for bed. And then we heard the mantel clock strike.
The clock was my father's, but it hadn't run right in my memory. I'd gone with him a couple of times to take it to a clock repair shop, but they could never regulate it to keep regular time. And I had, in spite of being forbidden to touch it, played with it and lost the winding key behind the mantel where it fell down a crack. So it hadn't been wound since before my dad died 11 months earlier.
But it started running that night, and in spite of only being a 24 hour clock, ran for nearly a week, keeping perfect time. And then it quit, and never ran again. We always felt like Daddy had come back to spend Christmas with us.
The clock is still sitting on my mantel.