Kenny buried his dad today. Too many years have passed between us, so I missed the visitation. The obituary said he passed on Tuesday, the same day I was with my aunt at the pain center. A man walked through the door with his wife who needed therapy for her back. He sat in the cold waiting room with me, reading the newspaper. I couldn't help but notice how much he looked like Kenny's dad. This was the second man that day who had reminded me of Mr.G. I took my aunt home and never gave the coincidence another thought until I read the obituary.
Death reports itself differently for everyone but always connects first with a whisper. When my sixth sense was taking baby steps, a woman told me not to question but to simply pray. Pray for the person you were seeing in your mind's eye and to leave it alone. I like that.
Just this Saturday, Jody, an old high school friend dropped into my living room to tell me everything was fine, not to worry and that all charges would be dropped. When she was alive, she worked with prisoners and had a passion for helping the needy. I thanked her but she was gone as quickly as she had come. Goose bumps chilled my legs. My husband at that moment was driving to pickup our son who had been attacked in a parking lot the night before. We had worried in agony about his whereabouts, finally getting a call that he was in jail.
So don't be too scared of dead people. I'm getting more used to them!