Bright and early in the morningPop's been gone for almost 5 years now and we still miss him and always will. I printed out one of the last pictures of my dad and my son - taken a couple of weeks before he died.
In the middle of the night
Two dead men got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other
A deaf policeman heard the noise
And came and shot the two dead boys.
I remember my son, trying to see what was behind him. In hindsight, he was trying to see what was holding him up. God maybe, or perhaps just the desire to see my son. These series of pictures captured what he was trying to figure out about his grandpa.
Later after he passed but before we knew, I remember going into my son's room. He was in his crib sleeping very peacefully. I remember seeing shimmering twinkling lights around him. This 'cloud' of shimmer almost looked like someone was curled around him. I double-checked and rubbed my eyes a few times. I figured it was tiredness or high sugar.
My son talks about his grandpas and describes things they did, even though he never met some of them. He talks about the dog one grandpa had, who lived until he was almost 7 months old. So I guess that is a baby memory. He also talks about his other grandpas who passed long before he was born. It's uncanny when he tells us things. We try not to steer him with our questions about what he saw or dreamed about. He has one grandpa left, not by blood but by heart.
When my grandfather passed away (my dad's side), I remember seeing him looking in on us from the garage window. My dad ran into the garage trying to find him, even though he knew he was gone. I remember feeling his presence, not just seeing him. I can still remember his cologne and how his voice would call to me in a sing song husky voice.
Some of you think this is rubbish, and that's ok. For those who have experienced otherwise, you're not alone. We carry our family inside us and we hope after we're gone someone will care about us and carry our memories inside them. I believe that is why my son talks to his grandpas, why his dad does too, and why my sister feels pops presence when she sits in his chair.
Time is not an absolute, and it's not linear. It bends and folds into origami shapes that many of us have no concept of. I believe that souls find a way into those folds and brush against our time when we remember them. So if you have a long past family member, try talking about them to your children - even those who passed long before they were born, you might hear some interesting dreams and stories.
.:end:.
