shot of sass, served on (n)ice

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Spiritual presence

I'm not sure if this is the type of story Niki was looking for when she assigned this week's Special, but it's what immediately came to mind and I haven't been able to come up with anything else. I'm not sure how well I will be able to retell it; it's such a sensory experience...but, enough with the excuses. . .

When I was in the 8th grade, my grandmother moved into the house next door to us (it was actually fellow bar maid, Ashley's grandmother's house prior to my grandmother occupying it, ironically enough). I was going through the moody teenage years and tired of my family, so I would stay at her house most nights. One night, I come over and the TV sounded oddly -alarmingly - loud, even for her. I normally would call out to announce my presence, but I didn't for some reason. I walked through the house, quietly taking things in and feeling a weird sense of alarm or just knowledge in the air that something was amiss. I found my grandmother on the floor in the kitchen. She had died of a heart attack. While making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (that always gets me for some reason - that the loaf of bread and PB were still open, the knife on the floor). After running to her side (in a strange slow motion, fast pan away like in a movie, I was suddenly watching from outside the kitchen window, not actively participating) and making the call to my parents, not knowing exactly what to say, hearing my mother's desperate cry to my father, just his name, but there was so much emotion, like she was pleading, that he'd somehow be able to come over and fix what I had just told her, we were sitting on the couch, crying and suddenly, in between my parents, the tears stopped for me and I felt this rush of warmth and peace. I can't really explain it any better, but I knew it was my grandmother saying goodbye and telling me it would be ok. That I would be ok. It was only an instant and like nothing I've ever experienced before, but it's still a source of comfort to think back on. I know this post is a little. . .revealing, but it really is about a positive experience for me. A powerful encounter and something I really believe in.

6 tips left at the bar:

mendacious said...

i love your telling of this moment.
though i've lived thru nothing of that sort, i was at borders one day and this old woman was being a smart ass and causing trouble in a mischievious way, and then a moment or so after she or, i can't remember, somebody walked by and i distinctly remember smelling the scent of my great-grandmother- so strongly. and that's not normal for me... and i told my mom about it and she said it was her birthday that day. i am glad your grandmother took the time to circle back and give you the warmth you needed at that moment.

Miss Thystle said...

what a great, comforting story.

Karen said...

Andria- I know that warm feeling of peace you are talking about. I've felt it a few days after my sons died and I was crying myself to sleep. It's unexplainable- but sooooo real. I knew in that moment that they were okay and that they would always be with me, in some way...

penelope said...

Wow...

niki said...

Beautiful.

Megan said...

I have never heard of the warm feeling of peace, but I definitely believe you (and Karen). How wonderful.