Earlier this winter, my friend, Gary, and his wife, Susan, spent a few days with me. It was a respite for them to get away from the Michigan winter. I met Gary during our freshman year of college in 1965 and Susan a year, or so, later when she attended Kalamazoo’s Nazareth College. We’ve remained friends ever since.
Gary stayed with me again last week. We golfed, reminisced, watched the NCAA basketball tournament, and brought each other up to date on family happenings. I maintained my limited social schedule while he was in town and invited him to join me on a couple of excursions. He declined and stayed around the house and read.
Gary and Sue have two daughters and four granddaughters. They’ve taken on many of the caretaker duties for three of their grandchildren. It’s probably not how they would have chosen to spend their retirement years, but I’ve never heard them complain. They’ve done what they believed was best for everyone. Ruth and I discussed their life several times over the years and were thankful that we weren’t confronted with the same dilemma. We did agree that if Brady and Eva needed similar assistance, we would have stepped forward. That’s what families do.
Gary and Sue are more involved with their religious lives than Ruth and I were. Both were raised Catholic just like me. They continued their religious training while I did not. As I’ve said before, Ruth and I were spiritual but didn’t follow a specific religion. When our three kids asked questions about God, we answered as best we could. When they wanted to join their friends at Sunday school, we took them. When they wanted to go to Summer Bible Camp, we signed them up. We didn’t deliberately point them in any religious direction. We discussed the Ten Commandments but were more inclined to promote the tenants of the Golden Rule.
Saturday evening Gary and I had a discussion of our views on religion, and we talked about our families, both their strengths and weaknesses. Time has taken the two of us on different paths. After our discussion, I went to finalize my Sunday blog and Gary read in the living room.
About twenty-minutes later Gary called out to me. I responded, but he didn’t hear. His second call sounded urgent. My first thought was he was having a medical emergency. I went to the living room and found him sitting where I had left him. That’s when he said, “This lamp has flickered on and off two different times.”
“It’s Ruth.”
His eyes widened and he said, “Ruth?”
“Yes. Do you remember when you and Susan were here before? We were talking about Ruth and that lamp flickered.” I pointed to the sister lamp on the other side of the room. “I told you then that it was Ruth. She was just letting us know she’s around. That’s probably what’s happening now.”
And then he said, “I want you to stay and watch.”
“Ok”
I asked him if he was frightened, and he said, ” No, but I am a bit unsettled.” That’s when the lamp flickered again.
We talked a bit more about my belief that Ruth lets her presence be known from time to time. I don’t look for it, but I recognize it when it happens. It started the night of her accident and has continued for the last six months. I rattled off a list of examples and asked if he wanted me to turn the lamp off. As soon as I said “Off”, the room went dark. The light was off. It wasn’t a flicker; darkness filled the room.
I stood and he sat. After about a minute he said, “Ruth, turn the light on.” He paused, waited a moment, and rattled off a second request, “Ruth, turn the light on.” The darkness remained. And then I said, “I don’t think that’s how it works. She does what she wants when she wants.”
We talked a bit more. I gave him examples of Ruth’s dad, Lou, interjecting into our life after he passed. I told him that both Ruth and I believed my friend, Jim, appears as a cardinal. I offered another observation of Lindsay’s dad, Larry, joining them after he died. He told them they’d see him as a dove, and shortly after he passed, a dove perched itself on a block wall adjacent their gathering around their Florida firepit.
“I don’t understand it, I just know it happened.” After about five minutes, I asked Gary if he wanted me to turn the knob on the light off. As I reached for the lamp, it came on by itself.
I checked the bulb to make sure it was secure. It was. There was no logical explanation for what we witnessed. The entire exchange lasted about fifteen minutes. We spoke in total darkness about half the time. While Gary found the experience to be “unsettling”, I didn’t. I’m a bit comforted to know her spirit lives on. I can’t see it, or hear it, but I believe in it.
Each time I’ve experienced her presence, there was an electronic connection. The night of her accident our smoke alarms tweeted from the time of her accident until the police arrived to inform me. Two days later our Roomba vacuum got stuck in the corner of our kitchen. It sounded its alarm while I spoke to my daughter-in-law, Kate, on my cell phone about the smoke alarm. Since then, the lights have flickered, I’ve received unexplainable messages on my television, I’ve experienced computer malfunctions while writing my blog, and my kids’ smoke alarms have tweeted during my stay with them. They have experienced similar mysterious electronic encounters.
And this past Saturday while Gary and I spoke in darkness, about to turn two-years-old, Jackson James had his first experience.
TBC