Do you sometimes wake up at any hour of the morning and feel you sense something though you’re not quite sure what. I do. It’s like a dream that jolts you awake and you’re not sure just what is real and what is going on and then you question are you imagining, were you dreaming or did something touch the air, the space, around you. Actually it can happen to me at any time: it’s a little more startling when I’m sleeping and suddenly wake up. I’m not frightened in any way because I don’t sense anything bad or wrong. I simply sense something and I like to believe it’s Mom – maybe Dad too. Now that they are together again, I like to believe they are both with me at that moment.
I don’t know whether you believe in psychic, paranormal, stuff: maybe you do, maybe you don’t: I do. Perhaps with that belief it makes it easier for me to explain that sense of ‘otherness’ I have sometimes.
Our apartment has a wonderful view of the inter-coastal, the boats docked by us and the ocean. We’re not on the ocean but when we stand on the balcony and look out it appears as if it’s across the street. Even though there is a skyline of other condos in our southward view much of that rising skyline changes with the private homes across the waterway in front of us - northward. My mentioning this is because we have a comfortably sized room between our kitchen and balcony where Mom loved to sit on the couch and so purely enjoy the view. (When she sat inside, she always had the TV on.) Mom’s aide, Elaine, who helped take care of her for over five years used to take her to the pool initially and/or just outside for a walk or at times just sit quietly out in front of the condo: it got to the stage where she couldn’t balance to walk and she became wheelchair-bound. Elaine took Mom outside most days until taking her out of the apartment – other than to the doctor – became inadvisable: her dementia started taking over more and more. Living with and trying to manage her as her dementia intensified is for another time: maybe, probably.
I briefly mentioned our apartment and Mom’s cozy favorite spot for a specific reason. Unless Mom was sitting in that room or my sister and brother-in-law were visiting, the TV in there was not used. And, after Mom passed I kept the remote on top of a multi-CD holder on a small shelf beneath the chest-table the TV sat on. In other words, it was out-of-reach and pretty much out-of-sight unless someone specifically looked for it and moved it.
After Mom passed and for a considerable time, I lived alone in the apartment. Some months later, I woke up – as I do several times more often than not during the night/early morning - around 3:00 a.m. and thought I heard some soft voices in that room. Carpeted as the apartment is, I quietly tip-toed to the kitchen and saw light and realized the TV was on. I was a little taken off guard but then smiled slightly and thought Mom was letting me know she was there with me. Could it have been something electrical? Who knows. What I know is that it has happened about 4 maybe 5 times since Mom passed: sometimes the TV was on with a picture and sometimes it was on just snowy. The last time this happened was this past March 12th, my birthday. A few others things have happened but that too is maybe for another time.
My biggest regret in my life is not having had children: had I, I would say to them, “I believe that if I should die, and you were to walk near my grave, from the very depths of the earth I would hear your footsteps.” Emotions expressed by Benito Perez Galdos; and, heartfelt feelings I know both my parents would have borrowed and said to me my sister and brother.
Loving and being loved is boundless, timeless and inexplicable when it transcends our lives and the ethereal lives of loved ones who have passed. This is what I believe, and it is what I wanted to share with you.