kkkaraoke

Meetings with the Beloved Dead

White Meetings with the Beloved Dead

Matter of fact, something very unusual happened.

 

This may sound strange, but I feel that I have had ‘3’ contacts with people very close to me at the moment of their death.  I don’t analyze or interpret these events, but will explain them to you as they happened.

 

My father’s passing.  It was in 1983 in late June, and the garden was beginning to grow, as well as the corn stalks in the farmfield behind my home where my husband and sons lived.  I received a call from my sister saying that Daddy was in the hospital and I might want to come to see him to say good-bye.  After hanging up, I felt overwhelmed with grief and didn’t think I could drive without crying, so I took a few minutes to walk behind my home into the farm field.  I walked aimlessly through the corn stalks which seemed to overshadow me, and walked deeper and deeper, something I had never done.  Then something told me to stop, and as I cried and let my final tears out for my Daddy, something strange happened. I felt like all the tall cornstalks bent their leaves over to wrap me in a big hug, and I felt a sense of love and peace I have never known in my troubled life.  I didn’t want to let go of that invisible hug from nature and the tall cornstalks, but something urged me to go to visit my sick, poor, hard-working and dying Daddy of 12 children.  As soon as I arrived in my home, the phone rang and my sister said, “Daddy just died; you don’t need to come here.”  The odd thing is that without ever talking to my Daddy or seeing him that last time, that right before he died he sent everyone out from the room that were there with him.  He said he needed just a little time to be alone.  Could his spirit have met me in the cornstalk field to give me a spiritual hug good-bye? I don’t know, but I get tears in my eyes when I write about this because it was something very real and loving to me.

My mother’s passing:  I had been living downtown working for a miserable company. It was in the Neiman Marcus building and was a paper recycling company.  A Swedish lady that worked there said that they had hired and fired so many women that they could fill a forest preserve with the former employees.  I couldn’t take off from work to even see my son at Principia at a special family meeting which would have required one day off.  Well, I had been very sick one day, but had to force myself to go in for fear I would be fired.  As soon as I dragged myself home from work, I prayed, but collapsed in the bed, and turned ‘off’ the telephone.  But, suddenly about the stroke of midnight, a stirring came through my little condo.  I didn’t see anybody or hear anything, just a feeling of stirring.  It seemed as if something were telling me to look at the phone, (which was shut off.)  I argued and rebelled because I was tired, and it was too late to return a call anyway. But this spirit or whatever seemed insistent, and I dare not disobey.  I went to the phone and saw a message from my sister just saying, “Mama was sick in the nursing home.” That was ‘not’ unusual.  Mama was 85 and had heart trouble and was in a nursing home.  But, there seemed to be an insistence that I call the sister even though I knew she would be sleeping.  There was no answer.  I had gotten calls like that before, so again, it was not unusual, except for the extreme insistence as if something was very wrong.  So against my better judgment I called the nursing home around midnight.  The lady answered and when I asked her if my Mama was ok she said, “Oh yes, when I came in I checked in on all the patients.” I asked her if she was sure, as something was disturbing me.  She said, ‘Ok, I will go and check her room to make sure.”  She came back, barely able to speak, and said that it seemed my Mama had passed away in her sleep, but she didn’t realize it.  They would call me back in the morning.  It was a very difficult time for me, and I went in the kitchen and sat on the floor and cried for 8 hours straight.  My son was home from college for Christmas Vacation, and was very worried.  Although I didn’t sleep, I called in work at the mean company, and told them I had been up all night and my Mama passed away and I wouldn’t be coming in to work.  They insisted that I did come in.  It gave me the impression of “get to work or you are fired.”  My eyes were so swollen I couldn’t even see my computer screen, and my face was all red. They had no compassion whatsoever.  I might have as well been a piece of computer hardware, than a fellow dedicated employee who had just lost her mother.

My husband’s passing.  Did my husband’s spirit reach me before he died?  I had helped my husband when he came back to Chicago but he seemed to be overcome with the effects of War, which was not only the physical injury that he got the Purple heart for shedding his blood for our country, but the drinking/drugging/gambling/smoking/womanizing he learned in Viet Nam, where there was plenty of that for the men on the front lines, since most didn’t make it home anyway.  Well, I had left Chicago and stopped in Arizona to pick up pix and info about my husband’s ancestry which apparently goes back to the Mayflower. I’m reading a book now called “Here Shall I Die Ashore,” about Stephen Hopkins my husband’s Mayflower ancestor, one of the first colonizers from the Mayflower Ship.  (Sorry to jumpcut as they say in the movie changing topics, but it was quite interesting to learn of this character, Stephen, as he was first shipwrecked in Bermuda, then survived Jamestown, went back to England, and came back on the Mayflower. There was another colony that tried to colonize Jamestown, but most of the people died, either being killed and massacred by Indians, freezing to death, or having been victims of cannibalism in order to stay alive.)  Well, I moved on from Arizona to Vegas and arrived here on May 30, 2004, Memorial Day.  I decided to perform and dedicate songs to him in Karaoke such as Wind Beneath My Wings.  I took pictures on stage with me and had my military “General Patton funky costume” on (my second husband’s name was Patton,) and told the audience of my relationship with a Viet Nam Veteran War Hero and father of my sons.  Here is a karaoke version of the song, and I’m crying as I watch it for my husband was sent to me by God, at a time when I was suicidal, the psychiatrist raping me and telling me if I told anyone he would commit me to an insane asylum for life.  My husband rescued me, as I surely, was at the end of my rope.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuzOHe-S3rI Well, after I never gave up on my husband, even with all the problems, for a 17 year old stole him from me.  But, things happen, and we try to remember only the good.  So, after my karaoke tribute to him, complete with blown up pictures, I went to sleep but was suddenly awakened at 7 a.m.  I was tired from singing late the night before, but again this ‘insistent’ invisible voice kept telling me to check my cell phone. I left it in the car, as I don’t talk much on it but use if for just emergencies.  I went to get the phone and there was a message from the Veteran’s Hospital. I returned the call and was told, “Your husband and son’s father had been in a coma for 2 days, but died last night.”  I was shocked because even though we were 2,000 miles apart, and had not spoken for about a month, I had no idea he was even sick or suicidal.  I believe though, that when all hope had left his mortal body, that he heard my singing in karaoke, referencing him as ‘my hero,’ and the ‘wind beneath my wings.’  I believe he heard me even in a mortal coma, and that the harmony, lyrics and love reached him before he departed from this planet.  This is very hard for me to talk about without breaking down crying and sobbing, so I better stop writing for now.

 

 

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