First of all I just want to say that this is a very touchy subject. This story is about my cousin and best friend Nayo, and his visits after his death.
Nayo was murdered on June 25th 2006. He was beat on the head with a hammer until he died. What was really screwed up is that his friend, who was smoking crack, did this to him. They got into a brawl about an Xbox. His friend stole the Xbox from Nayo's house, and Nayo went back to claim it. The friend got so upset, that he beat Nayo with a hammer until he died. There are other reasons why the crack head was upset with Nayo, but it's too long of a story and can be irrelevant to my point. I can hardly even write this story since I am not over that fact that someone took my cousin away from me. I miss him very much, and I hope he understands my pain.
I was really debating on whether or not I should go to his funeral. I kept telling myself that I want to remember Nayo as being alive, dancing, singing, making me laugh, and being himself. I don't want to remember him in a casket. I then thought about God and what he would have wanted me to do. My religion was telling me that I need to pay my respects to the dead, even if it meant my best friend/cousin's dead body. I still, to this day, do not understand funerals. I never will. I went to the funeral, I felt like my heart was going to shut down and stop pumping as soon as I walked through the double doors. My heart was broken, my body was shutting down, and my knees got weak. All of a sudden, I was kneeling on the floor in front of the double doors, staring at his casket from about 35 feet away.
My father lifted me by my torso and helped me back on my feet. I felt I couldn't breathe. In fact, I felt like I didn't even want to. I went and sat in a pew, and about 30 minutes later, I built up the courage to say goodbye to my cousin. I slowly walked to the casket, everyone staring, and when I looked at him I shouted, "That's not Nayo!" I started crying louder than I intended. My father ran towards me and held me. I told him, "That's not Nayo, Dad. That's not Nayo! He is cold and hard and it doesn't look like him..." He tried to pull me away, but I didn't budge. I kissed Nayo's hand and in prayer, I asked him not to leave me. I asked him to visit me in my dreams and watch over my child. I walked back to my seat and continued to mourn.
One week later, I offered to make rest in peace t-shirts for Nayo to give out to my brothers and cousins. After I picked up the t-shirts, I got in my car and a song began to play. Keep in mind that I was alone. It was a song from my CD. I was questioning what was going on, because I never put that CD in. In fact, I didn't even know I had it in the car. Another thing, it was on number 12. It can't skip to number twelve unless you skip the tracks forward. I just listened.
This was a familiar song, since I had heard it many times before on my CD. I had never related the song to my recent loss though. The song is about losing a loved one. I began to sing along to the song and I began to cry. All of the sudden, I got major goose bumps. The funny thing is that I only got them on my right arm. My right arm was leaning on the arm rest in between the driver and passenger seat. I was at a stop light and I looked down at my arm and my hairs were sticking straight up. I looked forward again, light still red, then I felt as if someone was caressing my right arm. I look in the passenger's seat, expecting to see someone sitting there, but the seat was empty. I began to laugh and cry at the same time.
I said out loud, "Nayo I know you are here with me. I feel you and thank you for visiting me. I miss you so much..." I continued to sing even louder. I finally made it to my grandmother's house with the t-shirts and I told my grandmother and rest of the family what had happened. Most had tears of happiness and said they were happy for me. A few days later my brother, Salvador, and his friend went to the house were Nayo was murdered. They went inside the house, not knowing what to expect. What they saw, would scar their minds forever. The said that the walls were covered in blood and there were puddles of blood all over the kitchen. You could tell that Nayo tried to get away since there were handprints on the floor as if he tried to crawl away. This is the most horrifying; there were pieces of his brain on the floor. I was so disgusted and my stomach churned in horror when he told me this. He also stated that he and his friend placed candles in the room were he was killed and said a prayer.
Two weeks later, I went to this house with a few of my very close friends. Our purpose was to say a prayer in hopes that Nayo would leave that place and go to a happier one. I stayed in the car while my friends went to check things out. They didn't want me to see anything that would pollute my feelings even more. They came back about five minutes later with pale faces. I asked then what happened and my friend Danny said, "Jasmine doesn't go there. Don't ever go there. We need to leave now..." I said asked why, and they both said that I would be traumatized if I did. I could see lights flickering from the window and I asked them, "What is that light in the window?"
Danny said, "Oh there's some candles lit in there..." I would have never expected him to say that since my brother lit those candles two weeks ago! I was really upset, because that gave me the feeling that Nayo was still in there.
Months after that, I had re-occurring dreams about Nayo. It was the same dream every night. In front of my bed, sits my computer desk and computer chair. I would dream that Nayo was sitting in my computer chair watching me sleep. Then I would wake up and stare at my computer chair. He would never say anything in the dreams; he just stared at me with a half smile and soft eyes. It felt so real that when I would awake, I would expect to see him there. He never would actually be there though.
Fast forward 2 years. I think Nayo is worried and wants to tell me something. His mother hated me at first after his death. She blamed his death on me. She said I introduced him to those people so it was my fault he died. Like I mentioned, it is now two years later, and I think she is realizing that it is not my fault. The more she hears about how Nayo felt about me, the more she loves me.
She contacted my mother one day out of the blue. She told my mother That Nayo is looking for me. Nayo came to her in a dream and he had a very worried look on his face. He didn't say much. He just kept repeating my name. My mother told me what his mom had dreamt and I cried. At the time, I had been going through a lot of emotional issues. I was very depressed and considered taking my life. I also think that he was showing himself to my 2 year old daughter. Since she was only 1 month when Nayo passed, she never knew him. I never even spoke of him to her; she's too young. My daughter can speak in full sentences and is very smart for her age (she just turned two May 2008).
One day, I was upset and crying on my bed in my bedroom. I was going through a financial crisis. I thought she was in the living room watching TV. Suddenly I heard her little voice say, "Mommy, are you crying?" I answered, "No baby. Mommy is not crying..." Then she said something that really put me in shock. She said "Nayo said don't cry..." I said, "Baby, who is Nayo?" She answered," I don't know..." So I didn't know what to think of this. Nayo had his issues when he was living, but I always thought of him to be an angel, not a ghost. I hope he showed himself to her as an angel. If so, I am very happy that he is looking after us.
I am sorry about this story is so long, but I wanted to give details so that you could understand my feelings about this. Feel free to comment.