Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
I am inspired to write this post because Stacy Uncorked wrote The Haunted Clock. Stacy asks at the end of her post if we believe in ghosts or feel we've gotten a message from someone who has crossed over.
I don't really believe in ghosts, but I do believe angels are around us, helping us, all the time. And I do believe I once received a message from someone who had passed away.
My brother was 17 years older than I was and from the time I was quite young, he lived very far away. I rarely saw him.
He was relatively young when he died. He went to bed one night, fell asleep, and didn't wake up in the morning. Heart failure.
I didn't feel anything when he died, other than Oh, my brother died. It could have been anyone because I really didn't know him, knew very little about him, and what I did know, didn't care for. We had some family problems when my dad died and sadly, my brother and my mom never spoke again. She preceded him in death. Neither one would call the other when she was in the hospital and her death was imminent.
Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn.
So I didn't mourn the loss of my brother, although I felt very sorry for his two sons. I think they would have appreciated more time with him, especially because he didn't always treat them well. Maybe their relationship with him could have improved if he had lived long enough to become a more mellow old codger.
So anyhoo, the younger of his two sons was about to get married. I was working in a doctor's office. It was the day before I was going to fly away to the wedding.
I was near the front desk when the phone rang. Our new assistant receptionist, BEFORE she answered the phone, said This is Joe's Pool Hall. Who in the hall do you want?
I burst into tears, startling everyone of course. But I cried because I remembered that when I was little, my brother used to say that exact same joke every time the phone rang. I had never heard anyone else say it until that moment.
After the wedding, I managed to get the groom to myself for about five minutes and I told him what had happened. My nephew also remembered his dad making that joke when the phone rang, and he, too, had never heard anyone else say it.
At the end of the story, my nephew said, He just dropped by to say hello so you could tell me about it at my wedding.
The receptionist was the angel conduit.
And I cried, and finally mourned the loss of the only brother I'll ever have.
Infinities of love,