It was 1991 as I recall. An unknown member of my extended family sought to gather the clan by organizing a family reunion. I was contacted by this person, a second cousin, and invited to attend. This was a bit unusual as our family had scattered across the country long before the invention of the personal computer and the internet. I would like to say that family members were not prone to letter writing and had lost touch, but that would be untrue. Actually, we were/are the fighting Scots-Irish, and familial battles were apparently commonplace, with anger, belligerence and grudges carried to the grave. Generations came and went. In short, I attended the reunion but knew no one.
And so I travelled from Virginia to Ohio to meet the folks. It was a very brief gathering but pleasant enough. I met an unknown first cousin, Nona, and her husband, Larry (names changed). We seemed to get on well enough and we agreed to meet in the future. A pleasant relationship developed and continued over the years, even though I spent significant time abroad.
With the passing of time Larry and Nona's health declined, and it became necessary to spend significant amounts of time caring for them. We came to know each other pretty well under the circumstances, and I shared some of the details of a near-death (like) experience I'd had in 1989. Larry listened but wasn't quite convinced. He didn't think me a liar, but couldn't quite believe the things I described to him.
Larry's health dwindled away as months became years. Numerous hospitalizations made clear to all that his condition was non-survivable. Larry, most of all, knew his personal clock was ticking. That clock stopped at 1:37AM on a day in May 2016. Larry passed on in an Ohio hospital with his eldest son at his side, playing his dad's favorite music on an IPod or smart phone.
That same morning I awoke in my Kentucky home unaware that Larry was gone. The day was routine except that I found my digital wristwatch had stopped. Later in the day his son called to tell me that Larry was gone. He was with his father at the moment of death, which was, as stated, 1:37AM. A medial doctor later confirmed the time of death, although the official time was a few minutes later.
My watch stopped the instant of Larry's death. I had recently put a new battery in my watch and doubt this was a natural stoppage. Even if my watch failed on its own, what are the chances of it stopping at that particular instant? To be certain of the time of Larry's death I double checked to confirm. It was a "dead on" match.
I think Larry stopped my watch. His message to me was, I believe, "I'm alive, I made it and I'm OK." The dead, it seems, are not nearly as dead as we tend to believe.
Let's take a few moments and put a bit of frosting on this cake. About the time Larry's health was taking a serious turn, a friend and neighbor, Carlos, was going through the same thing with his older sister, Pearl (names changed). Her health became worse and Carlos made a number of trips to help his sister with various things. Near death several times, she eventually passed and Carlos attended the funeral. Shortly after her funeral his cell phone began to receive messages from Pearl's cell phone. There were at least three contacts and he showed them to me. There was nothing of substance, just static, gibberish or silence.
Carlos is a workman sort of fellow, a bright guy but not a reader. He has no paranormal interest and is not a religious man. He came to me with his phone and was clearly distressed over his sister's apparent contacts from beyond. He was convinced he was being contacted by the dead. Face to face and eye to eye he told me those very words. Carlos was being contacted from the grave.
None of this is dramatic or new news to some who visit here. I do believe, however, these are good examples of contacts from the recently deceased. I remain convinced that life does not end with physical death.
I don't think it's a trick of recent memory, not after all these months. The timing seems significant. In just over a week from today, it will be the anniversary of her passing. Perhaps she was indeed saying "hello", letting you know she was there.
But it doesn't seem as if your friend senses her presence though, which could be why she reached out to you. Sometimes, these happenings could be intended for us to pass on a message of comfort to loved ones, who might not be as receptive. You will know in your heart the right words to say, when the time is right.