Good Advice

In a couple of my other stories and comments, I have indicated that 'things' have happened to me pretty much as long as I can remember that have something to do with paranormal. When I was a child, I was told not to let my imagination run away with me, that I needed to stop playing with my imaginary friends and that I shouldn't tell stories that weren't true. I am not sure how a grown see through man in your closet talking to you, smile and simply vanish isn't true, but you get the gist.

As a teen, I was called a flake, told to not make up lies, and invariably learned to keep my experiences to myself. As I grew into an adult, I realized that these occurrences are not and was not my imagination. I have also learned there is a select few that I can share these occurrences with and this group is one avenue that I can share with.

One of the many occurrences that keep coming to mind happened when I was about 16. My mother's dad, the very best grandpa a girl could hope for had a stroke. He had worked hard his entire life, woke up one morning and could not vocalize his thoughts. We took him to the ER; they ran tests and determined he had a major stroke. He was hospitalized for about 3 weeks, during that time he continued to have min-strokes as they called them. I was devastated. Grandpa was my rock, my anchor and I loved him dearly. We were nearly inseparable as I grew up. I was his angel and he my hero. We tried to bring him home with us after he left the hospital, but, unfortunately the medical care he required soon got a head of us and we realized that he would need around the clock assistance. He was then admitted to a nursing facility here in Omaha.

Grandpa had gone into his own world. He did not recognize any of us nor did he seem to have any idea of what was happening around him. My mom had an extremely difficult time visiting him because, well, as I had he was a rock of stability before this happened. I continued to visit him regularly; I was determined that one day he would simply 'snap' out of it and be the same person he had been.

After visiting many months and seeing no change, I became angry and depressed because all of my dreams for him had not happened. We (my mom, sister and I) were living in an upstairs duplex apartment of a south Omaha home. I went home that Saturday and stomped up the stairs, mad at the world and determined that everything in life was horrible. I went into my room, closed the door and flopped on my bed, grabbing my book and flipping on the stereo. I was the only one home at the time, so I thought I would crank up the music and sing so loud I could get some of my frustrations out.

I had my paper back book open in my hands reading and singing. All of the sudden my book was knocked out of my hand and sent flying across the room. I didn't drop it, it went sailing! I sat there for a minute staring at the place where the book landed, in awe and angry still. I got up and picked up my book and went back to the bed, as I sat down my stereo turned off. I tried to turn it back on, but it would not work. I checked the lights to see if a fuse had blown or something, but the only thing not working was the stereo. Okay. I decided I would read without the music. I sat on my bed and began reading. I looked up as I heard a creak near the door, like a floor board creaking when you walk across. There was a woman with short curly dark hair, beautiful light olive complexion, a bit on the fill figure side smiling at me. She looked very familiar yet I was not sure who she was. I sat there, not able to speak, not knowing what to do.

She looked at me and said, 'Your grandpa did NOT mean for any of this to happen. He only wanted to work, stay happy and care about his grand-babies; this was an unfortunate incident and there is nothing can be done and nothing to be angry about. He is still around because his will does not allow him to do other wise. So, knock it off, tell him you love him and get on with your life!' she smiled again at me. I looked down to the ground then back up at the woman, ready to ask who she was and how did she know so much about my family? She was gone. The door had not opened; there was no other way in or out of the room. She was simply gone. My stereo resumed playing.

All the rest of that day and Sunday I thought about what she had said, mulling it over in my mind. As I went through the hallway Sunday evening, I looked up at some family portraits on the wall. There was a lovely picture of my Aunt Linda in her younger years, as a young woman. She had passed on in child birth when I was 7 years old. Aunt Linda as a young woman WAS the woman that had chastised me lovingly in my room the day before!

I did try to take her advice to heart. Grandpa did not recover; he carried on for another couple of years before he was at peace and joined the rest of his family. I continued to visit him regularly and my love and respect for him never faltered and never will!