My mother was a strong self willed woman who owned and ran a pub alone. She passed away aged 75 after suffering a heart attack. The last time I saw her alive was a few weeks before she was due to undergo a hip replacement operation. I was her eldest child and whilst we had our rocky times, I always felt we had a close bond and understood each other on a spiritual level.
I sensed that she felt that, although she had survived 2 previous operations on her hip, this one was going to kill her. However, such was her pain and immobility that she resigned herself to fate. When, at the end of my stay, it came time to say farewell our hug lingered and whilst we said little, I sensed that this could be a final goodbye.
Soon after the operation, she went into renal failure and became dangerously ill; however, she survived, recovered and was discharged to complete her recover at home. Two days before she died, I phoned to see how she was getting on. Such was the tone and manner of her speech that I knew in my heart that this was to be our last conversation. However, I convinced myself that her lack of spirit was due to pain or tiredness.
She was found by the brewery's delivery man and was rushed to hospital, where after a further 4 heart attacks she succumbed and died. The following day I flew home and that afternoon I viewed her body in the hospital. Not only did I want to see her to bring closure, I also wanted to apologise for something I'd said to her when I was a child. It was nothing terrible but it was spiteful and I regretted that I'd never said sorry for saying it.
The hospital had done their best to make her look natural but they'd combed her hair in an unusual manner and her mouth was slightly open. As I began to talk her face seemed to move in a waxy life-like manner, to such an extent that, for a moment, I believed she was alive. When I apologised to her for what I'd said, the blanket that was laid over her lifted abruptly. My immediate thought was that her body had not been secured properly and I expected to see her arm hanging over the trolley; it wasn't. Her body was in a small windowless room with no means of creating a draft that could have caused the blanket to move in such a manner. At no time did I sense fear. I felt as though she had signaled her forgiveness. Whilst I was upset, I was relieved that there was more for my mother beyond death, as she had always believed that there was nothing else.
A few days later, whilst at the pub, my sister and I had a terrible argument. Several hours later I went into my mother's living room (I had been the last person to enter the room before this time) and found that a large heavy armchair had been tipped onto its back. Also, some blocks that had been placed under the chair's feet to make it higher had been unexplainably damaged. Our mother hated us arguing and the only conclusion that we could come to was that this was a signal from her.
Later that day, my sister and 2 of her grown up children and I were at the pub. Whilst I was in the cellar sorting through some of my mother's paperwork, I over heard my sister talking about going to visit a local shop and the making of an evening meal. At some point I heard my sister and her son shout "bye" to me. All was quite above me. Then I heard the noise of someone walking backwards and forwards; not in a normal manner, it was the noise of uneven quick steps. I could only think that the noise was coming from the kitchen and I assumed that my niece was preparing a meal.
A while later my sister returned and came down into the cellar. The noise above me had stopped but it was so odd that the first thing I asked my sister was what was her daughter doing in the kitchen. My sister informed me that no one else had been in the building as everyone had left when she had. I suggested it was their dog but she too had left. During the discussion that followed, I realised that I had not been standing under the kitchen at all, I was stood under the entrance to the pub's toilet. In the latter years of her life, my mother had suffered from IBS and had spent a lot of her time rushing to the toilet. For several days after this whenever I walked in the vicinity of the toilet door I felt very cold.
My sister assisted me in sorting through the paperwork when we heard the ringing of the brass bell that was sat on the bar's counter. I immediately suggested that her children had returned, to which my sister told me that they weren't coming back until the following day. On inspection we found that, indeed, no one else was in the building. The bell ringing was the only unexplained event that was witnessed by another person.
Over the next few days I sensed my mother's presence on many occasions. Slowly, as though her energy was diminishing and she was moving on, this presence weakened.