I saw my grandpa on the night he died, he was standing over me looking down. I was terrified at the time, hid under the covers until morning, praying that God would make him go away.
I loved my grandpa dearly, but knew his body had been taken from the house, I knew he was at the undertakers. I never mentioned it to my Gran, his partner of over fifty years. As an Irish Catholic I think she might have washed my mouth out and certainly wouldn’t have believed me. I didn’t offer to stay another night and any times I stayed following that night, I always hopped in with my Gran. I never saw him again but have often been told he is with me.
I believe in life after death, you’ve probably gathered that by now if you’re a regular reader of my blog, but I have so many questions. One of these questions is, if a body has been disposed of, how can it look the same? Sometimes I believe, or have heard, they might look younger, healthier, happier. But why do we see them as they once were when they have left their bodies. Is it the energy we recognise, our brain doing the rest, or is it them, does a spiritual body have some sort of form?
After my mother died, I sat up for nights looking for her, I was sure she would appear, I’d asked her to come back but she didn’t. I think maybe my childhood fear closed the shutters. I think I have prevented myself from ever seeing anything quite like this again.
I’ve seen other things, people I don’t know, but not in the same way. Although they might look like they are in the room, I know they are in my head, it’s different. After my cat died she jumped on the bed a few times, the last time I kept my eyes closed hoping she would stay and she padded all around me before disappearing again. I think she came to let me know she was okay, just as my grandpa did.
I’ve seen a Buddhist Monk and a Big Warrior sort of guy, I don’t know them. I see or sense people who aren’t really there, can’t be seen by anyone else, but never like grandpa.
Sometimes when I’m in bed, I’m tickled, touched I think. It’s like a stroke, the most gentlest stroke, sometimes like a spiders web across my face or hand.
Now for reincarnation, I’m a firm believer in this too. I regress people and take them into future possible lives. I’ve been regressed and seen the men and women I have been. So if we live so many lifetimes, why do we look like the last if we come back like grandpa? I’m not sure I make sense, let’s try again. If I have one soul, but many bodies, surely they are all part of me, so I would look like a mixture of them all. Or is it my soul would look like me to anyone who knew me in this life, but different if I was visiting a past life in France?
It’s all bloody fascinating, I’m intrigued but suppose I’ll only ever know for sure when I get there and that’s if I’m right. I’ve sort of come to the conclusion it’s all energy, we recognise the energy and our human brains do the rest. The people I don’t know, like the monk, I put his energies into the form I recognised. I’m not sure from where, maybe a different life. Or maybe my soul, knows him, maybe my soul recognised him as a monk.
No I’m cheating a bit on the daily post today, although my grandpa was my grans partner. I haven’t got a partner to chew this over so I though I’d ask what you think. It would be great if someone could answer my questions or at least give them a go.
This is how my mind works when I’m procrastinating. I should be packing for my house move on Tuesday not working out the whys and wherefores of life and death!
lizalizaskysaregrey©2017
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