NO ROOM FOR IT’S ROOTS Part 3

Sometimes I’ll see someone like they’re standing right in front of me, but I only see their face.  A perfect circle of golden light about the size of their face surrounded by darkness.

These people are always so happy.  And beautiful beyond belief.  Each time I think that one is the most beautiful of all, but they’re all absolutely, totally, flawlessly, perfectly beautiful.

I bought a book written by a man who was elderly when he died.  When I started to read it, suddenly there he was.  He had no age, was very handsome, laughing and happy.  I got his message clearly: “She’s reading my book!”  Now that made me laugh.  Why would he be so thrilled that an obscure person was reading his book? Was I the only person on the planet reading it?  Or was it that I needed to read it badly?  Don’t know.

When my daughter was killed the city people were using her side kitchen door which everyone used so we sat on the patio next door waiting.  I’ll skip over everything to this part – after being there a long time suddenly there was a circle of light on my shoulder.  It surrounded my daughter’s face.  Her head was lying on my shoulder and her eyes were closed.  Later someone took me home, she was still with me, in the same position.

I knew I wouldn’t sleep but I went to bed anyway.  I lay there watching her sleep.  Even though her head was close to mine I could still see her face.  Just before daylight she opened her eyes.  I watcher her eyes, saw the puzzle in them, saw her remember what had happened to her, watched as a tear flowed out of each eye.

She seemed to realize she had her head on my shoulder and sat up.  She was very close and I could see her like I always had.  I could see the struggle on her face – she knew she wasn’t here any longer, yet I was the first person she saw – from there.  I had talked to her about seeing dead people, and she figured it out.  In her eyes came the beginning of understanding, then the entire thing vanished.

She stayed with me for a few years.  Even when I couldn’t see her I could feel her presence.  I had kept some of her things and was going to have to move to a bigger place.  Each time I thought about an apartment she would place a hand on my shoulder.  I learned she was telling me that wasn’t the right apartment.  I finally found the right one.  I was writing an email to a friend of hers, telling her I wouldn’t be able to go there as I would then live in a place that my daughter had never been.  Didn’t think I could stand it.  Suddenly there she is – in my new apartment.  It was like a cut-away with a wall missing.  She was walking through the rooms.  Then she stopped in the hallway, turned and looked straight at me.  I stopped complaining and moved.  She went there with me.

Another time I was sending an email to someone about her dying and there she is in front of me, dancing around, kicking her legs, throwing her arms around, and saying, “Yeah, I’m dead!  I’m dead!”  She was so funny.

I missed her presence one night and wondered where she was.  Then I saw her.  My younger son was sitting at his computer.  She was standing behind him, her hands on the back of the chair, looking over his shoulder at his computer.  She visited all of us.

She stayed with me a few years, with my breaking heart.  When her murderer was sentenced to prison she was jubilant.  Almost immediately she showed me her back which meant she had to go.  She came over and kissed my forehead, then turned away again, then came back again and again to kiss me again  She knew when she came back here she would be someone else so this was it.  I don’t think people ‘recycle’ this fast normally, but I had already been shown that she was coming back to us.  She was laughing and happy because of that.  For me it was bittersweet.

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