Discussion in 'General Forteana' started by gattino, Apr 12, 2017.
Sorry Gattino sad sad time. Hope that, wherever she is now, it came as a bit of a release to her.
Sorry for your loss, Gattino.
Look after yourself Gattino.
My condolences to you and your family, Gattino. Take care.
She is free. Hope you can fly with memories.
Sending much love and support Gattino xxx
My condolences ... focus the good times now before all this
Sorry for your loss, Gattino.
Thank you all, belatedly, for the condolences.
The funeral is on Friday.
As with my brother's death last year my instinct on this board is to only discuss any fortean aspects. But as with my brother the absence of anything immediately dramatic, as read in a hundred books (moment of death visitations, the dying reaching out, mists and lights from the body etc etc) is disappointing in terms of the conviction such things would leave on the witness to them. Even her apparent lucidity and referencing my dad and going on a journey with him etc wasn't directly experienced by me, so I'm relying on my imagination as to how lucid it actually was. It did however fit into the general accounts of these things, as it convinced me I needed to tell my siblings to come to the house that day. She passed that evening with us all around her.
Curious to me, convinced as I am of the casual reality of precognitive dreams, but I didn't even dream about her death or anything related on the nights either before or after the event.
Some curiosities. No great meaning inferred, but worth noting. The afternoon of her last day as I went the chemist shop for a prescription I cut through a passageway and there was a child of 8 or 9 lying flat on the pavements, sprawled out, face down to the concrete. He/she looked up a few times. As I neared I thought "he'll get embarrassed and get up". But they didn't. Instead as I got close he/she raised their head and explained "I'm pretending to be dead", then put their face back to the ground. There was no one else around.
Next morning, after the death, a very large pigeon was lying dead, again face down, in our back garden. No signs of mawling. It was just dead. That afternoon as I again passed through the alleyway where the child had been the day before, I came to the lamp-post in the middle of it and looked up to the sound of a robin (see my previous board postings for the personal and wider symbolism of this bird with dead loved ones) landing on the top of the post above me. I stood there for a minute or more looking up at it.
I'll repeat I'm not suggesting any of these things are remotely spiritual or paranormal. They make no sense if htey were. But they were curious.
The more concrete borderland stuff has been in the form of other people. Each time I tell the "down the road with Gerry" anecdote the person will reply with one of their own. The lady next door said when her dad was dying he was waving at her invisible mum, and pointing her out to the daughter. My friend's mother in law apparently replied to "we'll see you tomorrow" with "I won't be here tomorrow" and died that night. A sister in law who works in the hospital spoke of someone who had true terminal lucidity and became mentally and linguistically "normal" for several hours. Less reassuring perhaps was friend of my mum's whose sister and brother in law (Trudy and Terry) who reported that the former had said on her deathbed "There's Terry. He's got a wig on.". Er...(and no, he wasn't bald before he died)
All my sympathies, Gattino. So hard to lose one's parents. Just hope she is in a nice place with your dad. The anecdote about the child playing dead is rather unsettling and quite weird.
There is one additional oddity.
It's important to note that in arranging the funeral,the pub used for the function afterwards at my brother's wasn't available so this time its at a small hotel, which we went to check out. There are lots of stairs up to the front, which concerned us for a moment but were shown the downstairs large room we booked was accessed from street level by going round the side and through an attached marquee to the side door of the room. This was on Friday of last week.
So two night ago, I picked up the little digital recorder I occasionally record dreams in to. I wanted to listen to the recording I thought I'd made of the unimpressive psychic reading I had a month or so ago. Because he had very definitely described in diplomatic terms the trauma of a death coming up. I wantd to listen to exactly what he said. But the recording wasn't there. Either it had never taken or I had deleted it to make room when I decided he was crap. Instead I found myself listening to a dream recording I made, and had forgotten, dated 4th April.
It references my mum being ill/in hospital (she had been for a few days at that point so nothing psychic there), my aunties, and most especially my dad. It talks of large numbers of people passing through this "really big hotel room" and a shortcut through a door "to the champagne tent outside". Going round hte outside of the building to get there. And most curiously of all...my dad in it begins old, walking along and then getting faster till he's running and I'm trying to keep up. I say on the tape that he has a vision of "my mum..or is it HIS mum my dad's mum?..reaching out to him" and he "starts to rejuvenate, becoming a young man (it didn't look like my dad actually did when young, but resembled an acquaintance with the evocative name of kristian). "He's so full of life now and wants to go out and live" I say. I also refer to him gasping at the size of the hotel room, he can see mountains beyond.
As I say this was a dream recorded several weeks before my mum died, let alone any funeral was planned.
Extraordinary parallel in the book Final Gifts.
It is easy of course to attach meaning to events surrounding a death which one probably would take little notice of in normal circumstances. However , having had similar experiences at the time of the death of both my parents and my wife , I no longer dismiss these things as merely fanciful. I am convinced that at these times we are caught up in something beyond the purely emotional. What it is I have yet to learn.
On that theme the one incident I omitted as it seems so contrived, and induced gallows humour at the time. While she was dying, us all sitting round watching her waiting for the breathing to come to an end, the tv set behind us (it was in her room and we became completely oblivious to it being on) started belting out a song during an advert (for ketchup I've subsequently learned). It was Nilsen's "If living is without you." The entire truncated lyric employed in the ad was "I can't forget this evening, and your face as you were leaving , but I guess that's just the way the story goes...I can't live if living is without you, I can't live, I can't live any more."
Ah Gattino- don't think I could have held it together at that point...
Actually it had the opposite effect..it broke the tension as so ridiculously dramatic I instinctively turned to the tv over my shoulder and said "oh F*** off!"
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