In the days leading up to my fathers death I experienced a deep foreboding that something terrible was about to happen. The best way I can describe it is a feeling of doom - not quite like any other.

On the Friday I found my father as bright as a button, almost excited and he had a lot of errands that he wanted me to run for him. I remember calling in at the bakers and purchasing some individual Eccles Cakes as he had a weakness for them. Later, when I returned from executing the errands we had a cup of tea with the cakes and he asked me,

“What is the matter?”

I was going away that weekend, not far, just to the coast. I told my father that I did not want to go, that I had a feeling something was going to happen. He told me to go and have a nice time. I left him still feeling uneasy.

Later in the day, my ex-husband came home from work and asked why everything was not packed and ready to go? I explained to him that I did not really feel in the mood to go but he told me not to be silly and that the children were looking forward to it. I packed with a heavy heart. Just before we left, my father called and asked why we were not already on our way? I then spoke with him just over an hour later to let him know that we had arrived safely.

“Good. Have a nice time.” He said and finally “I love you ”.

Now, my father never told me he loved me, he was not very demonstrative that way. I would ask of him “Do you love me?” and he would answer the requisite “Yes.” To demonstrate his love, he would give me some money to ‘treat’ myself rather than a cuddle. His saying “I love you” hit me like a bolt out of the blue. I did not sleep well that night and in the morning I insisted to my ex-husband that we return home. As you can imagine, he was annoyed with me and so were the children but within half an hour we were on our way.

I remember when we reached a certain point on the motorway I knew for certain that my father was dead. When we reached home my ex-husband picked up the telephone and dialled my father’s number but there was no reply. I remember saying,

“There will be no reply, he is dead.” At this point, my ex-husband stormed out.

I calmly got into my car and drove the short distance to my father’s house. Before I put my key in the lock I knew what I would find and I found my father in his bed just as if he had closed his eyes and fallen asleep. Everything was in complete order. I have no doubt whatsoever that he knew he was about to die.

Perhaps he knew enough about his own body to know that he had but a short time to live and I had ‘picked up’ on this? I do not know, but I can tell you that the autopsy found that despite his previous ill health he was medically sound and suffering no illness at the time of death.

That evening I broke my heart; I threw myself prostrate on the bed and cried like a baby. I felt nothing but overwhelming grief. Now, a sceptic might say that what happened next was part of the aura of a migraine, maybe so. I shall describe exactly what happened as far as I am concerned and you can make up your own mind.

I suddenly stopped crying, mid-sob when I heard a very low, soft, humming. I looked up and there, in the room, about one foot from the bed and about four foot off the floor was an orb about 12 inches across. The orb was the brightest thing I ever seen; a complete ball of light which although the light was fiercely bright did not hurt to look at and I did not need to narrow my eyes or protect them from the brightness. With the light came a feeling of complete love, peace and reassurance. I watched it for what seemed a number of minutes and then it was gone. I was left with a feeling of peace and reassurance.

Make of it what you will but I wiped away my tears and carried on living.

Labels: Death, Father, Light, Loss

Posted by Miladysa at 2:44 PM 3 Comments

Labels: Father Death Life Absolution

Posted by Miladysa at 7:44 PM 1 Comments

In 1974 I became aware of what my father would later describe as my mother’s ‘Gift’. My mother was still living at this time but it was never mentioned, never discussed. I only came to learn of it properly many years after her death when I was troubled and my father spoke with me.

My mother had an elder sister whom, when younger, had been a professional model and had later married a member of the American Air Force. The marriage had taken place in America and I do not recall ever meeting my American uncle although my Aunt kept in touch with my mother and made a few visits ‘home’ over the years.

One day when my mother was in the kitchen my father and I heard an almighty crash. My father immediately ran into the kitchen and returned with my mother who was visibly shaken. He was calming her and poured her a glass of sherry. This was quite unusual in itself because my mother rarely drank alcohol and never during the day. My mother kept on repeating my Aunts name over and over and saying
“Something terrible has happened, something terrible, she needs me.”

My father looked concerned, this was unusual as he was always as cool as a cucumber and I mean always! Within minutes the telephone was ringing, a long distance call from America; it was my Aunt and she was crying, her husband had died.

My Aunt returned from America, purchased a cottage nearby and became inseparable from my mother. In the early hours of one April morning I awoke to the sound of my mother crying and my father comforting her. I went to see what was wrong and found them making their way downstairs, I followed. My father made my mother a cup of tea and then made a telephone call; there was no answer from the other number. My mother softly said,
“There will be no answer - she has died.”
My father looked worried and replied
“We do not know that for certain yet - it might be something else.”
I asked what had happened and my father answered,
“Your mother believes something has happened to your Aunt, we shall have to wait and see.”
Within minutes the police arrived, my aunt had been found in her parked car outside her home, she had suffered a fatal heart attack. My aunt was 40 years old when she died.

These were 2 events I remember witnessing although I later heard similar tales from a number of other people. As I time went by, I began to have similar experiences but thankfully rarely involving the death of someone. These experiences frightened me and one day I discussed them with my father.

Now, my father was a very interesting man who had lived a most unusual life. To some degree he was what could be described as an eccentric but then, so could everyone in my family! When he was younger, my father had lived with indigenous peoples in some of the world’s deepest jungles. On occasion, he had been in contact with people who had had very little (if any) prior contact with the outside world and he had lived with these people as one of them embracing their cultures.

My father had an explanation for many things but explained to me one day that,
“There are more things in heaven and earth Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy ”. Apparently my mother had what my father referred to as a ‘Gift’ but that this had frightened my mother terribly. My father believed that I had inherited a similar one although mine appeared to be different in many ways to my mothers.

It was very strange to be told something like this from my father as he was one of the world’s biggest sceptics. He did not believe in G*d yet, he was calmly telling me this as if it was an every day thing to say. My father reassured me and informed me that in other parts of the world this kind of thing was considered normal and would not be given a second thought.

Apparently, when I was younger I had told my parents about my dreams and I had often dreamed of events that my father or mother had experienced before I had been born. My father described this as ‘inherited memory’ and said this could also explain why I may feel like I had visited somewhere before on my first visit to a place etc. Ghosts (although I am not aware that I have seen one) and unexplained noises my father believed were events that may have been recorded onto a building, place or item of jewellery etc. Much like a film recording. Some people he believed were able to ‘play’ the film.

My father taught me not to be frightened of my Gift but to accept it and this advice I have followed to this day. I have never encouraged the Gift but have learned from experience never to ignore it.

Posted by Miladysa at 2:01 PM 6 Comments