Memories of my Life
These are events that have happened to me. I cannot say for certain if you will find them enjoyable to read or if you will even believe them. I have
only edited for spelling, wanting the words to come as I pull the memory from my head. You may have trouble reading/understanding what is written,
feel free to ask for clarification if needed.
My first encounter with strangeness was at an early age. I remember being at my grandpas farm. I was playing outdoors at a very young age, maybe six
or seven. The day was warm and calm, blue skies and sunshine everywhere. I had picked up a leaf that was on the ground and was making tracks in the
dirt with it. When I stood up, a warm wind enveloped me. I just stood there, a little confused, too young to know what was going on. As I watched, the
wind picked up all the leaves around me and made them circle my body in the air. I watched as they danced around me, scared and excited at the same
time. It was hypnotizing, beautiful, and magical. I don't remember how long it lasted, I do remember my mother coming out of the house and saying it
was time to go. As soon as she stepped out of the house, the wind disappeared and the leaves fell to the ground. I felt a great sadness that I had to
go, I wanted to stay and play in the wind some more.
When I was thirteen, my grandpa died. He was an older man, around sixty when he died. He had come over from Germany with his family, been a farmer
all his life. He had a heart attack while driving on his tractor. My grandma was devastated. They had the kind of love everyone wishes for. And as I
look back, it was its own form of magic. Deep, life long, forever love, the kind that we all search for and long to have. My mother was devastated
as well, having been very close to her dad all her life. I remember the days leading up to the funeral, my dad never left her side. But there was
something different about him. His whole demeanor had changed. The way he walked , talked, even his eyes were different.
On the day of the funeral, I tried to get close to my mother, tried to hold her hand and comfort her. My dad got angry and pushed me away. I was so
upset I ran to my sister with tears in my eyes. Staying far away from the man I knew wasn't my father. He didn't act like my dad, and he spoke with a
slight German accent that he never had before.
Afterwards, at home, the family gathered around the table to share memories of grandpa with one another. I being the youngest and this being my first
experience with death, mostly just listened. My attention focused on my dad and wondering who he was throughout the conversation. After a few minutes,
my oldest sister stood up and pointed at my dad. Her eyes were full of terror as she yelled "You are not my father, your grandpa, your grandpa!"
All seven of us kids stood up and stared at the imposter, fear and wonder overtaking us. My father sat calmly at my mother's side. He never took his
eyes off of her while he calmly stated "that's right, this is grandpa, this is grandpa." He took my mom's hand in his, rubbed the back of his hand
down her cheek, then he was gone.
When I looked into my dad's eyes, he was back. The soft, caring eyes of the good gentle man I knew and loved. He looked up at all of us, then back
down at my mom and asked what happened. The last thing he remembered was getting word that grandpa had died. The last few days of his life were gone.
He said that it felt like he was in the most peaceful, loving sleep he had ever been in. That he had never felt so much love or serenity in his life
as he did when he was "gone". Not like he was dead, but more like he was in limbo, no white light, no darkness, just peace and love.
When I was eighteen and about one month from graduating high school, I got a sad feeling inside me. I was in my bedroom crying, for what reasons I did
not know. I grabbed a pencil and paper and started to write. I had to write, the feeling was so overwhelming, I had to get it out. I wrote about
death, a young girls obituary actually. I hated every word I put to paper, each one making me cry a little more. The next day I went to school, the
halls were filled with people crying. The school counselor was standing at the ready, for anyone who wanted or needed to speak with her. I had no idea
what was going on. It wasn't until I sat down in my first class that I found out one of my classmates had died the night before, a car crash.
I never told anyone about the obituary I wrote. It was about a young girl who died in a car crash. And that night I went home and burned the thing in
the fireplace. I was so upset, I never picked up pen and paper again until I was in my late twenties.
Driving home from work one day, I was feeling unusually down. I was so depressed, upset, that I couldn't see where I was going, the tears were flowing
from my eyes so hard. It was about an hour's drive through the city to reach my home. My life had taken a turn for the worse, I had never felt so
low as I did that day. Asking all the questions everyone asks when they get down or something happens to them. Why does it have to be this way? What
did I do to deserve this? Blah, blah, blah....
But this was more than just that. I was beating myself up pretty bad. I was stupid, ugly, my life had no meaning. What was the point of being here?
After about fifteen minutes of total self annihilation, I heard a voice in my head. "You will always be beautiful, that's my gift to you." I freaked
out, it wasn't my voice I was hearing, we all recognize our own inner voice. This was from someone, something else.
I continued driving, still crying, but not so hard now, as I had something else to think about. When I was about ten minutes away from home, I got
caught at a red light. I stopped and waited with the other daily commuters, and I hear a tap on my window. I look to see a man holding flowers. I open
the window and he holds out the flowers for me. "I just felt I had to give you these." I took the flowers, thanked the man and drove home to my
husband. When I got home, I hugged my daughter tightly, kissed my husband and told him how much I loved him, and thanked the powers that be for the
gift they had given me.
edit on 6-1-2014 by blend57 because: (no reason given)