Magdalen Green
Fresh Blood
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2021
- Messages
- 5
Hello, I'm brand new here, though I've visited many times.
My dad very sadly passed away six weeks or so ago. It was in his sleep. I think in some ways he'd been subconsciously preparing: getting everything in order, and even making sure the hedges were trimmed and the garden was cleared the day before. But I don't think he was ready. Like anyone, he'd have wanted the chance to say goodbye to us all. The shock and the sadness are an extremely powerful combination; you can feel it in any room someone's feeling it.
I'm posting because I've noticed things happening that can't be put down to just a heightened alertness or wishful thinking. It's not events that I would otherwise have assigned no meaning to or forgotten. I would definitely have remembered them if they'd happened at any other time.
In moments of extreme 'feeling' - where you're slightly overwhelmed by the grief - these things happen. I'm pretty logical but also open.
I was in the kitchen a day or so after, in a moment of real focused grief, when the metal lid of a screwtop bottle of wine shot off with great force, bounced off a shelf, and 'pinged' the toaster. It was very odd, but it was just one thing, so later thought perhaps it was something to do with temperature. The blinds were shut, it wasn't sunlight, but maybe the dishwasher had heated up the surfaces or something (though it wasn't near the dishwasher).
The next morning, I walk into the kitchen, again in a moment of focused emotion, and the fitted rubber lid of a milk bottle shot up into the air maybe ten inches and landed on the counter, right in front of my eyes, just as I looked at it. It was in a different part of the kitchen and at a different time of day. Lids have never shot off things before in my house, and it hasn't happened since.
A couple of nights later, again in the kitchen - which is open plan and runs into the dining/living area - I'm with my wife looking at a picture of my dad full of joy as he lifts his first grandson in the air. We're about to cook, and have a jar of pickles next to us. My wife and I stare at the photo, and there's that heavy emotion again. She attaches it to an email to my Mum, and types as the subject line: Pure Love. As she finishes the word Love there is a loud tap on the lid of the jar. A very loud, noticeable tap. It surprises us because we'd been staring at the photo and the email. It felt deliberate, though of course we all look for meaning in things at times like this. But lids and kitchens are a common theme.
Then two nights ago my Mum is at her house and she's on the phone for an hour. We still don't know how dad died. The coroners are taking a very long time due to a backlog. A doctor friend is talking it all through with Mum and positing various theories. It's a bit like therapy for Mum, she's discussing it all, and once again the grief hangs heavy. She walks into her kitchen, when suddenly BANG. She sensed something falling next to her. She looks down, and there's something on the floor. It's a sort of plastic spatula or ladle. She'd never seen it before. I've never seen it before. It absolutely isn't hers. It looks a little 80s maybe. But it fell from somewhere.
So I stood in the kitchen the next morning and tried to work out where this never-before-seen thing could have come from. Maybe it was a previous owner's from five years ago. But where's it been for five years and how did it fall? It wasn't on the counter because it would have been seen at some point in the last five years! All the cupboards were shut. The windows are double glazed and were shut. If it had fallen from above the cupboards, how had it done that on its own? Plus, the doors are slightly higher than the units, meaning it would have had to have leapt over. In addition, Mum has lots of pots up there which would have blocked it if it had been right at the back and then somehow blown itself forward. As hard as I try, I cannot fathom how this thing that no one had ever seen before had fallen right in front of my mother. We're sending a picture to the previous owner to see if it was hers.
I wondered if anyone had experienced something similar at times of intense feeling. Or if anyone is missing a spatula.
My dad very sadly passed away six weeks or so ago. It was in his sleep. I think in some ways he'd been subconsciously preparing: getting everything in order, and even making sure the hedges were trimmed and the garden was cleared the day before. But I don't think he was ready. Like anyone, he'd have wanted the chance to say goodbye to us all. The shock and the sadness are an extremely powerful combination; you can feel it in any room someone's feeling it.
I'm posting because I've noticed things happening that can't be put down to just a heightened alertness or wishful thinking. It's not events that I would otherwise have assigned no meaning to or forgotten. I would definitely have remembered them if they'd happened at any other time.
In moments of extreme 'feeling' - where you're slightly overwhelmed by the grief - these things happen. I'm pretty logical but also open.
I was in the kitchen a day or so after, in a moment of real focused grief, when the metal lid of a screwtop bottle of wine shot off with great force, bounced off a shelf, and 'pinged' the toaster. It was very odd, but it was just one thing, so later thought perhaps it was something to do with temperature. The blinds were shut, it wasn't sunlight, but maybe the dishwasher had heated up the surfaces or something (though it wasn't near the dishwasher).
The next morning, I walk into the kitchen, again in a moment of focused emotion, and the fitted rubber lid of a milk bottle shot up into the air maybe ten inches and landed on the counter, right in front of my eyes, just as I looked at it. It was in a different part of the kitchen and at a different time of day. Lids have never shot off things before in my house, and it hasn't happened since.
A couple of nights later, again in the kitchen - which is open plan and runs into the dining/living area - I'm with my wife looking at a picture of my dad full of joy as he lifts his first grandson in the air. We're about to cook, and have a jar of pickles next to us. My wife and I stare at the photo, and there's that heavy emotion again. She attaches it to an email to my Mum, and types as the subject line: Pure Love. As she finishes the word Love there is a loud tap on the lid of the jar. A very loud, noticeable tap. It surprises us because we'd been staring at the photo and the email. It felt deliberate, though of course we all look for meaning in things at times like this. But lids and kitchens are a common theme.
Then two nights ago my Mum is at her house and she's on the phone for an hour. We still don't know how dad died. The coroners are taking a very long time due to a backlog. A doctor friend is talking it all through with Mum and positing various theories. It's a bit like therapy for Mum, she's discussing it all, and once again the grief hangs heavy. She walks into her kitchen, when suddenly BANG. She sensed something falling next to her. She looks down, and there's something on the floor. It's a sort of plastic spatula or ladle. She'd never seen it before. I've never seen it before. It absolutely isn't hers. It looks a little 80s maybe. But it fell from somewhere.
So I stood in the kitchen the next morning and tried to work out where this never-before-seen thing could have come from. Maybe it was a previous owner's from five years ago. But where's it been for five years and how did it fall? It wasn't on the counter because it would have been seen at some point in the last five years! All the cupboards were shut. The windows are double glazed and were shut. If it had fallen from above the cupboards, how had it done that on its own? Plus, the doors are slightly higher than the units, meaning it would have had to have leapt over. In addition, Mum has lots of pots up there which would have blocked it if it had been right at the back and then somehow blown itself forward. As hard as I try, I cannot fathom how this thing that no one had ever seen before had fallen right in front of my mother. We're sending a picture to the previous owner to see if it was hers.
I wondered if anyone had experienced something similar at times of intense feeling. Or if anyone is missing a spatula.
certainly an odd tale, ty for sharing.
