Woo-Woo Stuff


Heaven visited me

Heaven visited me (Photo credit: kevin dooley)

Back in October, I wrote a blog post “Out of the Blue” https://melissacrandall.wordpress.com/2013/10/16/out-of-the-blue/ where I talked about the death of my friend Kristen’s mother.  And I promised that if anyone was interested, I’d ask Kristen if I could share the “woo-woo” story that took place at the precise time of her mother’s death.  Well, several people were interested and I was finally able to reconnect with Kristen tonight to ask and she said yes.  So, here it is…

Kristen and her husband Jeff and their 2-year-old daughter Roslyn were driving from their home in Washington, DC to North Carolina where their families live when she got the call  that her mother Laura had been found unresponsive and taken by ambulance to the hospital.  They were still driving when she received word that her mother had died.  Naturally, both she and Jeff were upset, but Kristen says she’s was “insane” with grief, crying hysterically.  Meanwhile Roslyn, in the backseat, slept through all of it, every bit of the noise, until the moment her mother calmed down.  At that instant, she woke up and said, “Where Gi-Gi go?”

Kristen and Jeff looked at each other.  “Gi-Gi” was Roslyn’s name for her grandmother.  She and Laura had a special bond, something they’d enjoyed almost from the moment of Roslyn’s birth.

Then Roslyn dropped the bombshell.  Pointing overhead, she said, “Gi-Gi go up!”

Say what you will, it’s hard not to believe that somehow Laura found a way to tell Roslyn what had happened.

Kids know things.

Another friend (oddly enough, another Kristin) told me about when her great-aunt Eloise was dying.  Kris’s daughter Olivia was just a little kid, potty-training age.  They were in the bathroom, taking a break from the vigil at Eloise’s bedside and giving Olivia a chance to practice her new-found potty skills.  Seated on the toilet, Olivia craned her neck to look out the window, tilting her head this way and that to look out.  There wasn’t anything going on outside the window, so Kris finally asked her, “What are you looking at?”  Quite matter-of-factly, Olivia replied, “Angels knocking on the roof.”

There’s more out there in the world than we realize.  Occasionally we’re allowed brief glimpses, the feather-touch of an experience difficult to explain.

One final story:

Nearly 25 years ago, my niece Leslie succumbed to Cystic Fibrosis.  We were gathered at her hospital bed when the doctor said that he “thought” she was gone and that the oxygen tube in her nose should be removed, but if he saw any agitation he would put it back immediately.  My sister, poised on the edge of that horrible drop called “child-death” could not bear to remove Leslie’s oxygen.  But my brother-in-law Bob, in a moment of great bravery and compassion for which I will always admire him, said, “I can do it,” and he reached out and set his daughter free.  In that instant, I heard Leslie’s voice in my head shout “YES!” and a pulse of immense energy surged through me, past me, and up through the ceiling.

Some who’ve heard that story say it was my imagination, the wishful thinking of an overwrought mind, but I know what I know.  I was very sad that day, yes, but peaceful, wanting only for Leslie to be released from the prison of CF.  Without desiring it, I received an enormous gift that day…as Kris did via Olivia…as Kristen and Jeff did from Roslyn.

Woo-woo?  You betcha.  But that doesn’t make it bad.

 

Advertisements

About Melissa Crandall

A million years ago--round-about the first Ice Age--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and science fiction media tie-in novels. I'm happy to say that I've since branched out to include fantasy, horror, essays, and narrative nonfiction. This site will keep you up-to-date on my adventures in writing. I live in Connecticut with my husband--who frequently wonders what he got himself into by marrying a writer--two cats named Tuna and Gypsy, and a semi-neurotic Australian shepherd named Holly.
This entry was posted in children, death, Paranormal and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Woo-Woo Stuff

  1. Michelle, I remember you telling me that story!
    I had two further experiences of Leslie – one at your house when Lucas was 11 days old and the other at my apartment in Troy. I like to think she’s still out there keeping an eye on us from afar, having a blast, doing her thing without the CF hanging over her head. Will always miss her, just as you do.

  2. Michelle Perkins says:

    We all need to experience these things…it’s sad that some (not all) of our most self claimed “educated” and “open minded” individuals can be so closed minded to things of this world and things not of this world. I choose to believe. I don’t have the answers to all of society’s problems nor can I explain all the God things that happen in life but I do believe in it all. That’s why it’s called faith, not proof. Just because there isn’t a scientific explanation doesn’t make it any less real.

    As for my Woo Woo moment, it also centered around the death of my sister, Leslie. Both of my son’s have Cystic Fibrosis. When Leslie died I was pregnant with my youngest, Lucas and Anthony (Tony) turned 3 about a month after her death. At the time of Leslie’s death we were in the process of building a house that she was never able to see. We moved in the house 2 months after her death. The day of her funeral the foundation for the house was poured.

    One evening after the birth of Lucas I was in the kitchen with Tony doing our routine “shots and chasers”. That is what we referred to his medical regimen which at that time was taking Ceclor on a daily basis to prevent serious infections. To make the routine seem a bit more fun I would pour his bright pink cherry smelling liquid Ceclor in the medicine cup and then give him a cup of orange soda to follow. Orange soda was and is both boys favorite.

    As I was preparing the shot and chaser Tony said to me…”Mommy there is Aunt Leslie”. I just looked at him, she had never been in the house, Lucas was a couple weeks old and sleeping in his swing. Tony just matter of factly made the statement. I said to him, “Where Tony”? His response was just as matter of fact again, “she’s right over there by the door”. That would have been behind me by 2 feet. I looked over my shoulder and shamely I admit I had some anxiety. I didn’t see anything but then again I have been trained not to as an adult. 3 year olds don’t understand that death means you can’t see that person anymore.

    I envy 3 year olds and how they are so untarnished by society and it’s expectations and what is real and what isn’t. I missed a moment to see my sister, I wish I was 3.

  3. Interesting and touching stories. I agree with you, there’s more out there than we know about or are willing to believe.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s