I have been thinking of things that have happened in my life that I could not explain, until now. Some of these things I have mentioned in posts, just feel I should document them as a proper submission.
When I was 15 I had an experience that I found very strange. I woke up one morning in October, this was in 1999, and I could not stop thinking about a specific boy. This is not the type of experience where, ooh she's a teen, she must have a crush on him. I knew him through my cousin, and the few times I saw him, he hardly ever acknowledged me, so there really was not any love lost between us. I could not understand why this boy was in my thoughts, constantly, for an entire day. That night I got news that I had strangely expected. That same boy had shot himself and was brain dead.
Fast forward to 18 November of 1999. This date I will never forget because it was my cousin's birthday. She and I had been sitting in our favourite "hang out", her mom's Toyota Corolla, and we were, as usual, listening to Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody was playing. She got a little pensive and told me that Carl (the boy who shot himself) appeared in her dreams, and he kept telling her he was going to come and get her. She did not seem afraid. She stated it as undisputable fact. He was going to come and get her.
On the 13th of December I had rode my bicycle to my cousin's house to get a CD that she had borrowed. I was in a hurry because I had not told my mom I was leaving and I did not want to get in trouble. When I got to their house, it must have been after 10 that morning, she was skipping around the house, in such a happy mood. She grabbed me and gave me the tightest hug, and then disappeared down the passage (I was thinking she probably went to go and get dressed, because she was still in her nighties by then) and I grabbed the CD and left. I did not say goodbye. On the morning of 15 December my mom took my sister and I to work with her. It was school holidays after all. I had woken up that morning and the first thing that popped into my head was my cousin. She honestly dominated my thoughts the entire day. By lunch time we were headed for a mall close to my mom's work, when she received a phone call. I remember watching my mom. Her hand started shaking and she said repeatedly "you can't be telling me this, this can't be true". I knew, down to my soul, I knew what she was going to tell us. My cousin had died in her sleep.
Her funeral was on Monday 22 December 1999, I had insisted on going to the undertakers and saying goodbye to her. I felt so guilty for not saying goodbye when I went to go and get the CD. When we walked into the room where her casket was, I was hit by the smell of the flowers placed on top, and when I saw her lying in there, I broke down. My mom squeezed my hand and told me I had to say goodbye, and I just couldn't. At the funeral service I remember thinking "just knock, wake up and knock on the coffin so we can open it and we will all be happy". But she never knocked. In the past 13 years, every so often, I catch the smell of those flowers. It envelops me for a few seconds and then disappears completely.
Last year, my gran (dad's mom) lost her fight with cancer. The morning of 17 May 2011, I was standing bent over the basin in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, when I heard my gran say my name. Clear as a bell as if she was standing in the doorway right behind me. She was over 500kms away from me at that point. I looked around and there was no one there, and I knew I just had to wait; I would be getting a call soon. At exactly 1:40PM that afternoon, I got a call from my mom. Gran was gone.
This is a part of this gift that saddens me. Being at my gran's funeral and, as the undertakers drove away with her after the service (she was cremated) having my little sister collapse in my arms, it was heartbreaking. Except for the boy, who I do not know why I even had the connection with him after his death, the two women were exceptionally loved in our family. They enriched lives, they lit up rooms with their smiles and laughter, they were special. And I loved them dearly.