Unusual ghost-like encounters have been happening to me since my father past away in November of 1996. I was just a young girl then and ready to celebrate my sweet sixteenth birthday until this tragic event happened to me. Learning of my father's death and how he chose to take his own life was mind-numbing and came as an absolute shock to myself and my family. I had no time to grieve though I had to stay strong for my siblings and my family, even though I was the youngest of four. I wanted to stay strong for them throughout this unbelievably horrific time of our lives.
My father and I were very close. In fact, I was "daddy's little girl". I was very spoiled by him and loved by him. The bond between us was always so strong and so fun-loving.
The previous summer before my father died he took me to an art fair in our community where he bought me a necklace strung with gorgeous small stones and by thick twine. I loved it, even though it was a little heavy for my comfort, my dad bought it for me because he thought I'd like it. That fact alone meant the world to me. Just three days before he passed away, I picked up the necklace and it broke in my hands, the small stones flying everywhere. I thought it was very odd that it broke just like that! For it was strung so tight and with such strong materials! I was left very disappointed and sad, but took courage anyway and collected the beads and put them all in a beautiful glass vase to sit atop my nightstand.
Looking back at that now, I think somewhere that meant something. I think maybe it was a power or an energy that made that necklace break, as if a sign that his death was coming. And it makes even more sense that he got cremated. His ashes were put in a tin container into the ground. I remember touching the bag that his ashes were in before they buried him and it looked and felt like little pebbles. Those little pebbles reminded me of the stone necklace he had bought for me at the art fair just months before.
But that's not what this story is all about. That is only part of it...
The day after my father's funeral, I went downstairs to my bedroom to reflect and write in my journal on the computer about my feelings on my father's death. I pressed the start button, and back then, the computer technologies weren't as good as they are now. It took several minutes to boot up. While waiting patiently and thinking about nothing besides how I wished the computer would run faster, the strangest thing was about to happen to me. All at once, I felt AND heard a touch stroke the back of my neck in an upward direction. When I say I "heard" the touch, I literally heard a sound at the same time I was touched. The only way I can describe the sound is by one of my favorite movies, called "Ghost". If you have seen the movie you know the sound I am talking about when the ghosts in the movie tried to move objects, that powerful, loud second sound. That sound from the movie, ironically, was exactly what I heard to the tee. My hair was up in a bun and I had some strands hanging down in the back, so when I was touched I felt those hairs move right up the back of my head. I jumped up and shouted at the spirit who was around me and who touched me. I knew instantly who it was and that terrified me even more.
When my father and I would cuddle on the couch and watch television, he would stroke the back of my neck. It was his own little way of showing his affection to me, and it used to comfort me. When I was a young child it would sometimes help put me to sleep. So when that happened, I instantly jumped out of my seat and started yelling at my dad that I knew it was him, I knew he was here, and he was scaring me! I asked him to never do that again. I told him over and over again how much I loved him and how sad I am he is gone, but please don't do this to me. Don't show up like this again because it's too much for me right now. It was very frustrating because I just wanted to melt down crying knowing it was my dad with me saying his last goodbye, it was so unbelievably special and meaningful. Yet at the same time, I was petrified I had experienced it. I wanted to forget it altogether, but I couldn't sit still in my room alone after that. I ran to my mother and cried to her that dad said goodbye to me and touched me. I know she thought I was hallucinating at the time that my emotions were getting the best of me because of the tragedy, but I wasn't. This happened to me, and it's something I hold so dear to my heart... Forever and ever.
I share it with you because it's real. The spirit world is a VERY real and alive world! We just don't always see it that way.
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