What do you Think?

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

A Spooky Nature Walk

img_3259Yesterday my two friends and I went for a spookier nature walk.  We went to Chanctonbury Ring in Sussex, England, which is an ancient site that is reputed to be haunted.  It is said the Devil had a hand in making the site and if you run around the wooded area seven times in an anti clockwise direction he will appear.   Of course we didn’t do this but it was very spooky and we made sure we were out by dark.

Is was very quiet, with very few bird calls which we felt strange.  Was it our imagination or did twigs snap as if someone was following us in the undergrowth.  It was certainly very cold and still with what seemed like pockets of I can only describe as weirdness.  The walk was lovely as I was with my friends and a good thigh workout being at the very top of a hill.

Chanctonbury Ring dates back from 300BC and is set 700 ft above sea level on the Sussex Downs.  In more recent times it has been connected to UFO’s, witchcraft and strange forces.  Walkers have been known to find things tied to trees, ribbons, corn dollies and such.  A cyclist reported on nearing the mound he heard a voice tell him to get out, which he did very fast never to return.

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Half way up the hill to Chanctonbury Ring.  The structure seemed to be formed around a rams head above the entrance.
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Chanctonbury Ring

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Happy Halloween 😉

 

Aunt Sadie

Aunt Sadie was always strange according to my father, but to me Sadie was wonderful.  The day she died I knew, I heard her voice first when I was sitting quietly in the conservatory.  I looked up and there she was at the end of the garden, stroking the pussy willow just as she always did.  She had been poorly and I knew she was dead, she wouldn’t have got there unaided.   She had no shoes on her feet, her red wavy hair was untied and she was wearing an emerald green dress I hadn’t seen in years.  It had never occurred to me before then that you could wear what you liked when you were dead.  Sadie has told me since that you can be any age you like too, but I’m jumping ahead of myself here.  Anyway that was the day I started to talk to dead people.

From a young child Sadie was my favorite person in the world, she didn’t act like the other grown-ups, she pleased herself.  My father, her brother, despaired that his sister might influence his daughter in some way.  Sadie was full of stories, she collected them and wrote them down in journals she kept by her bed.  She told me once that there was energy in stories and when you recounted an experience and turned it into a story with meaning you were helping the world turn around and adding your own sparkle to the stars.

There were times I will admit that I did get a little scared of Sadie’s eccentricity, like when she would start to talk to someone but there was no one in the room.  The temperature always seemed to drop a little on these occasions but Sadie told me there was nothing to worry about, like attracts like and if you were a good person then that is what you would attract.  After she died when she started to visit me I kept this in mind when she brought along her new friends.  It wasn’t long before I would meet these people without her being present, like when I was shopping in town and a lady waved from across the street.  It took me a minute to realise but when I looked a little closer I could see she was not quite there.  It is like looking at someone through a net curtain, you loose a bit of them, but can see them at the same time.  I can turn it off and on now.  I worried at first in case I would be disturbed in the shower but I can control it, although if anyone really wants to talk they will make something happen to alert me.  Like a dish falling over on the dresser, a book falling off the shelf that you know was tucked in securely or a window blowing open on a calm day.

I don’t mind the interruptions to my life so much now, it’s like having a whole new circle of friends.  Not like the friends on facebook and twitter but friends you actually meet in person.  What is more than that I have found my vocation.

Sadie’s funeral was perfect, just like she wanted it.  She told me just how it should be and to be sure, she was sitting in the room with the family when the priest visited, whispering instructions in my ear.  He asked that we say a little about Sadie’s life for the service.  My father was dumbfounded when I was able to recall events as if I had been there, but it did make for a great day.  Sadie was sitting next to me at the front of the church and clapped and cheered when I read the eulogy just right and as we had practiced.  Okay, there were some confused looks when I curtsied but I didn’t mind as Sadie was happy and it was her day after all.  The music too was perfect and Sadie danced with the others as the curtains closed on her coffin to the tunes she had chosen.

After Sadie’s funeral I started a small business of arranging services myself, they are celebrations of life rather than funerals.  I sit with the family and we talk to the deceased, ask them how it should be on the day.  Plans usually move quite quickly once I can provide evidence through the memories of the person, that they are in fact there.   I’m amazed at how quickly my little business has taken off and how my name seems to have got around without advertising.   What is important to me is that the real story is told and from the person who knows it best, who lived it.  What is also great is how people are able to express their love to each other and know it is heard.

I’m busy enough but as more people have heard about what I do they are realising the importance of involving the dying in their celebration planning before death.  I’m sometime invited along to help tell the stories, but not always.  People who feel they have little control over the end of their life are now able to take the lead if they wish in a small way.  Choose what flowers they like, have the very best photographs around and invite the friends they want to be there.

Sadie does still visit and she is always around if I need her but it is not as often now, she is getting on with being there.  She tells me it is wonderful and she is not seen as strange there, but not to hurry myself as I have work to do and stories to tell.