Why are we here? We all have a purpose. I would like to say it is to love one another, to care about one another and most importantly to realize we are all one. Of course, a lot of us do not realize this until we become aware that we are on a spiritual path. I was a Spiritualist before I knew what is was to be a Spiritualist.
I was always open to the unexplained -- intuition. I thought it was because I was a mom, you know those gut feelings you get about your children and family. One of the first experience we had as a family was shortly after uncle Thomas left this plane of existence. I had the opportunity to see him a couple of days before he died. I told him if he could come back to please visit me.
I’ll never forget it. One night I lifted my head from my pillow and saw the left side of his familiar clothing – light blue jeans and a white shirt with a collar and three buttons up the middle. I knew it was him. It felt like him. I saw him. In a second he was gone because I realized it or thought about it. I tried to get him back, to no avail.
But his presence remained for at least six months. Little things like cupboards closed. He was always closing cupboards when he was over at the house watching the kids. Lights on or off and sometimes it felt cooler in the house, like someone adjusted the thermostat. It was never too cool in the house for him.
Then, one night while drying off from my shower, I noticed a 3-inch picture of the Joker rolling paper man sketched in the condensation in the mirror that was just above the faucet of the sink. This is significant because he smoked marijuana and he also had a piece of artwork -- the Joker's head made out felt glued to another sheet of felt -- that was hung on one of the crates of record albums he left us. I was amazed. I called for my 10-year-old daughter. She came in, closing the door promptly. At first she couldn’t see it. When she stepped into the bathtub and looked at it from my angle, she too was amazed. It was gone in a flash. This continued for months. I washed the mirror where the image would appear many times, even scrubbing with a sponge. It always came back. I showed anyone who wanted to see it. People came over, I turned the shower on and the image appeared. It was like an attraction at a circus. Everyone was amazed. Unfortunately, I did not take a picture of it. I do have plenty of witnesses, though.
After the first appearance of this phenomenon, I took my son, four years older than my daughter, aside and told him that I thought uncle Thomas was in the house. He agreed hurriedly and told his story about uncle Thomas’ recliner that was in his room. When my son went to school in the morning, the chair sat in it’s normal state. After school, he found it reclined, like someone had sat in it earlier in the day. I was the only one home and never stepped a foot in that room.
Time passed and I decided to ask my daughter. She thought uncle Thomas was around us as as well. Her story includes an old typewriter of his and how it started typing one night.
We all got used to uncle Thomas being in the house. We spoke to him sometimes. He spoke back with the image in the bathroom mirror. It became a comfort, especially so soon after he passed. Eventually, the phenomena started to lighten. It was sad to know he was going onward. And then, finally one night about six months into the happenings my husband at that time and I were watching television. Out of the corner of our eyes we saw the ceiling fans start for a minute and then stop. We stopped trying to explain the phenomena away. To us, uncle Thomas waived good-bye.
Please share your experiences with me on Facebook or send me an email at LoriCarter@aol.com.