About a month ago, I drove to a friend, Craig’s, house in Jackson. I planned to arrive between 5:00 and 5:15 so I was very cognizant of the time. I arrived at 5:05. Craig and I had a cocktail before heading out to pick up his dad, my friend, Ed. I was driving and as I buckled in, I took a quick look at the time because we had a schedule to follow. The clock said 4:31.
I asked Craig to verify the time and he said, “It’s 5:31.” I read the clock to him, and he said, “It must be Ruth.” I agreed. I’d spoken with Craig and his wife, Judie, about the several times Ruth has stopped by, so he was familiar with her visits. By the time I drove to the end of his driveway, Ruth corrected the clock.
Last Sunday, Craig and two other friends, Dave and Tom, came to my condo. We played two days of golf, and they spent one night. They unloaded their luggage Sunday morning, and we drove to the course. Craig rode with me, and after dropping him off, I parked the car. I wasn’t sure if we had time to hit the driving range before our round, so I took a look at the clock. It was running an hour early, just like before. I didn’t mention it to my three visitors.
After golf the clock was correct. I drove to pick up some pizza and the guys settled into their rooms. When I returned the condo’s fire alarm was chirping just like the night of Ruth’s accident. I had changed the batteries two days prior, so I knew they were good. I got out the ladder, pulled the batteries, checked to make sure they were secure, and replaced them. The alarm spoke just like the night of her accident. “Bad Batteries” “Bad Batteries”
I pulled and replaced them four times. Each time I checked them with a battery tester. Each time, the tester said they were “good”. After the fourth pull and replace, the chirping stopped. I told the guys that this was the same thing that had happened last September 27th.
I put the ladder back in the garage, and Craig stepped out on our back deck to speak with Judie on the phone. While he was talking, one end of a decorative set of beads that Ruth had fastened to the railing came undone and the string of beads fell to the deck. The zip tie had unzipped itself. Craig checked it out and zipped it back together. Neither one of us had ever dealt with such a tie unzipping itself. Once again, our thoughts turned to Ruth.
I’ve learned to accept these moments. I think she’s just letting me know that she’s close at hand. Over the years Ruth and I knew that her father had visited us several times. At first, we found it strange, but we learned to accept it as a part of our life. We were never afraid and spoke about the visits with anyone who showed an interest. Now I’m doing the same.
As I approach the end of my first year alone, I wonder how long these visits will continue. I’ve been told that if you’re open to them, they’ll last indefinitely. I find that comforting.