Guest Writer, Robin...Her First Encounter With The Other Side.

My friend Robin, who I met through a mutual friend over on Facebook, recently had a loss in her family. Her Grandmother had passed away recently, and she went home for the funeral.

The following from my Guest Blogger, Robin is her story. And a first for her. And because of this, she now is a believer of the Supernatural. At least where ghosts are concerned....

Robin's Story


Last Tuesday my grandmother passed away. She had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s two years ago and her physical health was failing. Still, it was a surprise to hear that she had passed away so suddenly. I made arrangements to fly from New Jersey to Texas on that Friday to be there in time for her memorial service and funeral that Saturday. The service was beautiful and I was amazed, but not surprised, to see how many people came out to pay their respects to my grandmother.

It was a busy day, with friends and family coming from all corners of the U.S. to celebrate my amazing grandmother’s life. On Saturday, after the funeral and luncheon, my sister-in-law and her children, my cousin and my other cousin’s wife and son left to go back home to be ready for school on Monday. On Sunday, my aunt and her husband left and it was just myself, my brother, cousin and parents left at my grandmother’s house, along with my grandfather.

My grandparents live on 50 acres in West Texas. They live in the country, surrounded by scrub brush and cedars. We routinely see turkeys, foxes, rabbits, armadillos and numerous birds. When the lights go out in the house at night, it’s so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face. There are no streetlights, nothing to throw off an ambient light for you to see by. There are flashlights all over the house so that you can see to get to the bathroom.

Because there were so many of us left in the house, our sleeping arrangements were a little weird. Being the only girl, I got the front bedroom with the double bed, nearest the bathroom in the hall. My parents were sleeping down the hall in the room with the twin beds. My brother was in the living room on the couch, which wasn’t that uncomfortable (I slept there the second night I was in town). My cousin was on the caretaker’s bed in the master bedroom with my grandfather in his bed.

On Sunday night, the first night I was in the front bedroom, I was sleeping soundly. All of us had worn ourselves out doing chores around the house for my grandfather. In the middle of the night, I woke up. I looked to the left of my bed and saw someone standing there. I thought maybe my brother had gotten lost on the way to the bathroom (remember, it’s super dark out there). I mumbled a, “Whatcha need?” and watched as the silhouette of the head turned towards me. I was straining my eyes hard to see who it was, but couldn’t quite make it out. The person never said a word to me, just turned to look at me. At that point, I realized that it was my grandmother.

Her hair, what I could see, was perfectly done and she was dressed in clothes, maybe the clothes that she had been buried in, but I couldn’t see clearly enough to tell. She exuded a sense of peace and happiness that all of her family was under her roof again.

I also knew that she had already been to see my grandfather and my cousin and brother and was leaving my room to check on my parents. She looked at me for a moment (I could tell by the way her head had turned) and then she turned around and left the room, right through the door. She had had knee surgery a few years back and walked in a gait that my grandfather called, “a hitch in her getalong,” and I could see enough to tell that she was walking that same way. She left through the door and I haven’t seen her since that night.

I told my mother about seeing her and she told my grandfather and he was calmed by the idea that she was at peace and pain-free after she had been through so much. But the story doesn’t end there.

On the Wednesday after the funeral, I was scheduled to fly out to come home. As I was getting ready to go through security to catch my plane, I called my mother to tell her that I was going to get out on time. She said, “I wanted to tell you before you got on the plane that your sister-in-law called (the one that had been at the funeral) and your niece woke up last night and your grandmother was in the room with her.”

Now, you might think that this is a child that is just repeating what she had heard, but we hadn’t told anyone about me seeing my grandmother. No one.

I sent a text to my sister-in-law asking about it and she said that she hadn’t seen my grandmother, but on Wednesday (the day after my grandmother died) she had been crying. She said that she felt a hand on her cheek and then my grandmother saying, “Hush now, sugar. I’m fine, I’m at peace. Quit that crying now.” Lord, if I can’t hear my grandmother saying that!

I’ve never been a big believer in spirits still walking the Earth after death. I never thought that I would actually see one. But, if I had to choose to see one, my grandmother would have been it. It helps all of us to know that she is at peace and happy and out of pain.

I know that when my grandfather, whom she was married to for 65 years, passes away, they will go together to wherever they need to go. They will walk hand-in-hand, happy to be together again.