Hands up if you can see dead people.
Or if someone ever “dreamed” you. Not dreamed of you, but – as we say here – dreamed you. Meaning that someone who has passed on pays you a visit in your sleep.
Some people consider it an honour when a deceased loved one pops in to see them. Others are highly offended when a person who they were close to has been gone for a while and hasn’t seen it fit to come back to say “hi”. Me, I’m fine if I never see the person again.
Well that didn’t come out quite right.
My father has been gone for years and while I’ve often thought of him, they’ve clearly been recollections – not revelations. My sister on the other hand has been visited by him a couple of times and the conversation has been decidedly one-way because he was the one who had something to say.
Another family member has been visited in her dreams by both a grandparent and a parent and both times she believes that the stopover was to assure her that they were doing okay. That’s probably because when she saw them in her dreams they were hale and healthy. But why wouldn’t they – be doing well, I mean? They’re out of all this mess aren’t they?
One relative claims to receive some of her visits while she is still awake. Now if I’m going to receive one of those, I’d really prefer to be prone and unconscious during that call, because I’d sure as hell be prone and unconscious after it.
Whenever she receives those visits though, she’s always convinced that the individuals concerned are trying to send her a message – one which, luckily she seems to recognize in time. She has no problem heeding warnings and following instructions from people she used to know but who now reside on the other side of the curtain.
She also happens to see “people” who she never knew when they were here – but who clearly belong over there. However a harsh word and a withering stare are normally enough to send them skating back over. Apparently her reputation has preceded her. It seems that apparitions are scared of her mouth too.
Not all of us can see them when they come over. It’s said that people with long lashes are good witnesses, but luckily I dodged that bullet because years of wearing glasses have caused mine to curl. But I had to admit that my ears were working quite well when the floorboards creaked in a house with wooden floors when I could swear I was the only one at home.
When both of my children were babies, something in the ceiling always made them smile and I knew it wasn’t gas. We were living in the house formerly occupied by my husband’s grandmother so I knew who they were looking at. Their proximity then, to that line between life and death was probably what made it easier for them to “see” what I couldn’t.
I’m not sure I’m really looking forward to becoming a vision – but there’s always a bright side. It will probably be my newfound ability to freely eavesdrop on any number of private conversations.
So maybe it’ll be worth it?