Updated: Dec 16, 2021
One night, when I was three years old, my Mom was changing the sheets on their bed while my Dad was working the swing-shift at the electric company. While smoothing out the sheets, she was drawn to the far corner of the room where a pink mist was beginning to form. She looked away to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but then focused again on the corner. The pink billowy mist was larger and then more details began to appear. Mom saw my Great-Grandma Rosie standing in the middle of this beautiful soft cloud of pink. GG-Rosie had died two days before and mom had attended her funeral that very day.
Well, my Mom was a psychic -medium and had seen and talked with spirits since she was a child, but this was the first time connecting with someone she knew and loved. Her first “mama bear” reaction was to check on us -- the kids. My sister and I shared a room across the hall from Mom and Dad so she came in, made sure we were sleeping comfortably, and then went down the hall to check on my brother.
Once she knew we were all okay, she went back to her room, and Great-Grandma Rosie was still there. Standing straight and tall with a slight smile on her face and then she slowly became embraced in the soft mist and it disappeared.
This was a story we grew up hearing. Not that Mom saw a ghost as that was nothing unusual for our family. The story -- the message -- Mom wanted us to understand was that she saw her Grandma standing straight and tall. Rosie had suffered most of her life with osteoporosis and died as a fragile 89-year old with what was termed at-the-time as a dowager’s hump. Mom only knew her as being severely bent over. This experience shared through the generations was an opportunity to teach us that when we die, we don’t’ take the maladies of our physical body with us, and we continue to connect through the energy of love.