My grandmother was intrigued by the paranormal, and she opened my eyes to the reality of things we can’t see. I grew-up meditating, and exploring what she called “the metaphysical mind.” We both loved first-hand stories of paranormal encounters, and we promised each other that, no matter who went on ahead first, we would give the other a sign as proof.
I’m incredibly sad to say that she went ahead first. I know that is how nature intends the natural flow of life and death, but I wasn’t ready to lose her. She began her journey into the next 8 years ago this August, and I’m still not alright. And loving to the last, she gave me the proof I needed so badly. Yes, she really did, and this Bitch knows for a fact that we go on.
She moved across my room the day of her funeral. While unmistakably her form, she was rippling air. Imagine a still pool when one drop hits its surface – but air. She moved across the upper half of my room, moving left to right. She turned her head to look at me, and I couldn’t even return the gaze. I sobbed and sobbed with my head hung. I knew without a doubt she was giving me the sign we had agreed on. I spoke to her without thinking, and said, “You don’t have to stay. I know we go on. Come for me when it’s my time, please. I love you so much.” And when I finally looked up, she was gone.
I haven’t even really had dream visits of her since then. I’ve heard so many people talk about loved ones visiting them in their dreams, but that hasn’t been my experience. I hope that it’s because she kept our agreement, and I spoke to her with my whole heart. I hope that it’s because she is doing as I asked. I hope she is waiting for me.
So when I think of taking my life, it isn’t with fear. I know that there is happiness on the other side of the veil. I know she is there waiting for me. I just don’t know what holds me back from the edge. I want to want to do it, and yet I don’t. More proof that I’m one fucked-up Bitch. I can’t even make a decision as simple and as complicated as that one.
How pathetic I am.