Visits From Beyond The Veil

For those of you who are not familiar with my writing, please allow me to give you a little update.

Many of my experiences centre around our late daughter, Angel. She passed away in 2012, in hospital, after a mammoth four year battle with a rare form of cancer. On occasion, she still visits her eldest sister, her (now) teenage daughter, plus my husband and I.

A few weeks ago, I had another clairolfactory (the ability to smell spirits) experience.

My husband was still pottering around the house when I decided to turn in for the night. As I climbed into bed, I unexpectedly got the strong smell of cabanossi. For those of you who don't know what cabanossi is, it is a thin sausage of smoked meat, almost like salami, but of Polish origin. It is expensive here, therefore a luxury.

Two nights later, my husband was asleep next to me, when I decided I had better use the bathroom before switching off my bedside light. As I walked into the loo, the delicious smell of cabanossi once again assailed my nostrils.

I hadn't bought any since 4th June 2012. The reason I remember the date so clearly, is because I bought some for Angel, two days before she passed away. We stopped off at our local Spar (supermarket) on the way to the hospital, which was +- 45 minutes drive away. I knew our darling daughter was very fond of cabanossi, and decided to give her a treat.

When we arrived at her hospital room, I stood at the foot of her bed, grinned, and waved a piece at her asking, "Where must I put it?" She opened her mouth and pointed to it, saying, "Put it there". I promptly obliged. I have a feeling, that was the last thing she ate. She went into a decline later that afternoon.

The incongruous aroma of cabanossi brought back bitter-sweet memories, and I just know I was visited by our Angel.

Something else inexplicable happened to my husband and I. We were both seated at our respective computers when we simultaneously heard the sound of something hitting the low window in front of us. It sounded like someone had thrown a handful of sand, or fine gravel, against the glass. My husband jumped up to investigate, but nothing/nobody was in sight. A few minutes later, the sound was repeated. This time I shot out of my chair to investigate, with the same result.

On reflection, it came to mind. Years ago, before the strip of garden in front of the window was fenced in, Zeus, my beloved black Labrador, used to dig a hole to lie in, in summer. Much to my husband's chagrin, it was right outside the computer room window. We always knew when he was digging, as the sand would hit the window in exactly the same manner, leaving sand all over the outside window ledge.

The absence of sand on the window ledge, this time, makes me wonder if we were visited by a phantom Zeus. This month is exactly three years since I had to have him put him down. Over the years since his passing, he has occasionally shown himself to me, both by sight and sound.