died suddenly on May 8th, 1993. We had often spoken about
which one of us might die first, and we had both agreed to
communicate with the one left behind.
coming home from the hospital after he was pronounced dead.
My neighbors were driving my daughter and me home. In the
car, there was a brief, strong smell of Bengay. My daughter
and I both commented on it, but our neighbors smelled nothing.
was alone in the kitchen, I said out loud, "Now, Ed, I know
we talked about communicating, but don't spook me, OK?'
visited New Mexico, Ed had bought a hat like the Mexican ranchers
wear. It was hung in the back hallway. After Ed's death, I
would find it on the kitchen floor, at some distance from
where it was kept. It had to come the length of the hallway
and around the corner to land in the middle of the kitchen.
This happened several times over the next few weeks, but only
when my daughter visited. No one ever saw it happen, but happen
it did. So I felt that he had kept his promise. The hat hasn't
moved now for a while, but I know it was Ed saying he was
my phone will ring once at night, often at one or two o'clock.
I do not pick it up because I know it will not ring again.
A phone call at night is usually bad news, but somehow it
doesn't scare me. I feel that it is also Ed saying hello.
These occasions will come in clumps, two or three nights in
a row, then months will pass with nothing, and then again
that one ring.
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Sept. 15, 2012