Late this past summer, I lost my cousin in a tragic motorbike accident. She wasn't yet 40 years of age, and left behind her three beautiful children and loving husband. She lived here, in Oregon, where I have been living with my own family for a year and a half. She had lived five hours away, so we were unable to see each other during the few opportunities we had. I've always stayed in touch with my cousin's youngest sister, "R." Still, all the siblings have shared a special place in my heart. Perhaps it increased many years before when they lost their father in a dreadful accident. Some of my uncle's children still felt cheated out of experiencing a long life with him.
When my cousin "T" passed, I was unaware of it that evening. I was awaiting an update, the last I knew she was in critical condition. When it got late, I was feeling too uneasy to go to bed. I went to check my email in the office, as my husband went to bed. While on the computer I kept getting distracted by the abnormal discomfort my dark hallway gave me. From the desk I could see the hallway through the open door on my right. I thought I saw movement but I rationalized it by thinking it was my husband walking to the restroom. At that moment I noticed a new email in my inbox. The email was from "R".
The email "R" had just sent stated the restlessness she was having. It stated her deep sorrow, for she had returned home that evening, from pulling the life-support and watching "T" go. My beautiful cousin was dead. After I quietly cried, not wanting to wake the kids, I then remembered the dark hallway. With my hands still holding my face, and looking toward the screen, out of the corner of my eye I saw movement again in the hallway. Someone was walking back and forth.
I turned and saw nothing. I called lightly to my husband. The door to our bedroom was open and I could partially see the bed. I couldn't see much, but I saw my husband's feet. He was asleep. I fought off my fear, as much as I could, and went to my bedroom. I shook my husband awake, asked him to stay in the room with me while I shut down the computer, and not to ask any questions. Loyally my husband got up and stood close by while I got ready for bed.
Later, after recollecting this night, my husband shared with me what he experienced. He thought he saw a dark figure in the hallway as he stood waiting in the doorway. He (wisely) chose not the share this with me that night, since he had figured something had already scared me. He knows all of what I have experienced in the past, and is aware it has potential to upset me.
My husband stood in the hallway as I emerged from the bathroom. I passed him to check on our nine month old son, who just started to fuss. I went over to his room to find him quietly sitting up in his crib. He was staring at the right end of his crib, which is the flat side of the connected dresser. There was nothing for him to stare at. I figured he was half asleep and just in a daze, so I laid him back down to rest. My husband turned to walk into our bedroom when I started walking toward him.
Before I entered our room, I peered down the hall into the living room. There was an unusual shadow by the kids play area. I quickly entered my room. I didn't want my mind to start thinking what it could be, but it didn't stop the tugging sensation I felt inside. The only way I can explain the feeling, was that it was like someone was trying to get my attention, and my spirit was still hearing it, no matter how much my logical thinking blocked it out.
After being in bed a few minutes, I felt a presence enter the room. I felt the despair, the sadness coming in waves from this presence. I looked up to the left corner of my ceiling, as if I centralized where this feeling was coming from. Suddenly, I heard I woman sobbing. It didn't come from anywhere in particular, it sounded like it was all around me. My husband didn't hear it since he already was asleep. I knew it was only meant for me to hear. The sobbing only lasted for a few seconds. The cry sounded like the most sorrowful cry someone could have. I heard the extreme pain within it.
Just then, I heard my son fussing again in his sleep. At that same time, I heard on the baby monitor, my 2 year old tossing in her sleep. I ignored the shadow in the living room as I went to my son's room. Once again my son was sitting up in his crib, staring slightly up in the same direction as before. I felt uneasy, as if someone was just in his room. The fear dissipated and was replaced with my lioness instinct of protecting my young. I said a quick prayer over my son and his room. I went next door to my daughter's room and did the same. I sensed they would sleep peacefully the rest of the night, which they did.
As I returned to my room, I looked back in the living room over by my children's play area. There was no unusual shadowing at first glance. In that instant, a darkness started to form above the play kitchen. At first it was small and ovular, about a foot long and suspending in the air. It then widened and stretched down to the floor. As it seemed to struggle to form into the shape of a person, I started to pray over it. I didn't sense any evil, but I knew it shouldn't be there. In my prayer I asked for it to leave my children alone and leave my living room. In a flash the shadow was gone.
I returned to bed, yet only few more minutes passed and I heard the sobbing again. It scared me, although at the same time it made me feel deeply saddened. I knew who it was. I suppose I finally allowed myself to accept who it could be in my house. I didn't understand why she would come to me specifically, but I knew it was "T."
I realized my cousin was not asking for help, but just expressing her deep sorrow. Even though she had lost her life, she must have felt mournful because she lost her children. She wasn't haunting my children and their toys, but just trying to show me, as a mother, how sad she was to "lose" her children. For the first time actually communicating to something from beyond, I spoke to her somehow. I suppose it was through the voice of my own spirit that I spoke to the looming shadow on my ceiling. I asked her to let go, to keep going where she needs to be. I was sure her children knew that she loved them, and I would tell them if they questioned it. A wave of calmness returned to my room, I knew for good.
At the funeral I saw "T's" children. I saw the sadness in their eyes, but behind that I could also see the "knowing-ness". There was no doubt in their minds of their mother's love. She never failed them in showing her love. I looked up at the vast blue sky as we stood around her casket. My cousin was there, her love for her young children interpreting into the warmth of the sun. I sensed she saw her children and the peace they carried beyond their current sadness. I just hope it was enough to allow her to go into the light and wait for the day to see them again.
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