My Deceased Mother's Touch

Name:            Linda
Email:           puffmuffin@hotmail.com
Location:        Home
Type:            Ghost
Date:            Monday, October 09, 2000
Time:            11:34 PM

To start at the beginning, I was 11 years old. It was 6 days short of my 12th birthday, and 3 days short of my mother's birthday. On April 9, 1977, my mother passed away from cancer. On April 11th, was her viewing. I remember there were many friends and family present.

When I came up to see her for the last time, I had tears, but just could not cry at the time. I stood there in front of the casket for maybe several minutes, as others brushed passed me to get their last glance. Finally, before I left to sit back down in the pew, I took my right hand and touched her left cheek, leaving it there for a minute. I could feel her cold rigid skin, as I struggled not wanting to believe she had really died. She had suffered for almost a full year (6 days short) from her first symptom of bone cancer...on my 11th birthday. The next day, her birthday, she was buried. It took me a long time to cry (many months) because I was taught by her, that when we die, our bodies go to Heaven, a happy place. Happy that she no longer suffered, I felt I and my younger sister (9 at the time)really needed her.

Sometime many, many months later, I lay in bed wide awake, supposed to be sleeping, when my sister and dad were fast asleep. For many nights before this, I'd cry almost nightly, praying to God to bring back my mother, or let me see her one last time. On this night, not thinking about it, but on other things, something came to me. I believe it was her spirit that came to let me know in a way, that I was loved, and being watched.

My bedroom was at the end of the hallway. As I lay there in the dead of night, the hallway floor was creaking, as if someone was walking. Now this house was only 6 years old. The floors didn't creak unless someone walked across, and even then, not always. The house was too new. We'd lived there 5 years already. I sat up in bed and called out my sister's name. No answer. Then I called for Dad. He was snoring. I found it strange the floor would creak. I layed back in bed. The creaking then continued right to the end of the hallway, my bedroom, then silence. I was scared, so I closed my eyes. Seconds later, I felt the imprint of a dead cold hand touch my left cheek. At the time I was afraid to open my eyes, but wish now that if I had, what would I have seen? My mother? The touch lasted several seconds, then disappeared. I waited a minute, but was so afraid that I hid under the covers. I must have been there several minutes, before peeking out. Nothing but darkness of the night. I turned my light on, and went to check for my dad and sister. They were fast asleep.

That never happened again, even though I prayed it would. I wanted to see her again, and vowed I wouldn't hide next time. Chance never came. But I knew my mother was there.

What happened over the following many years only seemed to reinforce the thought that she was there. Two years later, my dad remarried. Our stepmother, was cruel, vicious and abusive. It wasn't long before we figured out she married my dad not for love...(I'll leave that thought as it is). After 13 years of marriage to my real mother, there also was 13 years of marriage to this stepmother. She also suffered almost a year of throat cancer, then dying on April 9. The same day as my mother. She was buried on the 13th, gladly not on the 12th which was my mother's day.

Throughout all this time, I often dreamed that she was in our attic. As if there were a secret passage from the tiny kitchen pantry, a secret stairway to the attic. The wall, when I checked, always felt very cold, even when the kitchen was hot, like in summer. The only attic entrance, was in front of my bedroom, through the ceiling door (no stairs.) I saw and spoke with my mother many times in my dreams...in the attic. I didn't always remember what she said, but she had a very peaceful aura, which extended to me, felt even after I woke up.

A year later, my dad remarried again. This time to a wonderful and beautiful lady. I love her dearly like my own mother. Shortly after this marriage, I saw my mother one last time, in the attic. She revealed to me that she was going now, and would see me again, but not here. Now, when I dream of going to the attic, she is no longer there. And the pantry wall is no longer cold. It is the same as the other walls.

This, was only the beginning of many different experiences I was to encounter. I will be sending them separately, as they fall into other categories, from out-of-body experiences, to a real Vision.