Approaching 50: A Journey Through Loss, Survival, and the Paranormal

 Approaching 50: A Journey Through Loss, Survival, and the Paranormal

As I approach 50 myself in a few weeks, I feel compelled to share my story.

My grandparents were pigeon flyers, and they owned their own coal business. My mother was a very empathetic woman who worked hard, and her hobbies included painting and drawing. I had been living at my grandmother's house for a few years when my grandfather passed away in the 1980s.

One summer night, my mother dropped me off at my grandmother's house after coming back from the local pigeon club, where we took a few racing pigeons to go on a lorry to their destination to fly from. Little did I know that just ten minutes later, she would return, finding it very hard to breathe.

Although it was not just my mother’s sudden death that would haunt me; I would witness two other family members die in front of me, which set me on a path of depression and fear. Going back to that night, it was the most devastating experience of my life. Watching my grandmother's grief each day was heart-wrenching.

I had no knowledge of the medical world, CPR, or first aid at that age. All I knew to do when my mother's breathing worsened was to get my grandmother's Ventolin machine, a sort of oxygen machine that required adding Ventolin when it ran out. This was back in the early 90s.

Even though my grandmother was trying to keep herself together by calling emergency services, I was desperately trying to help my mother. Eventually, she fell into my arms. I saw her turn pale; her lips were turning blue, and all I could do was wrap her in a blanket until the ambulance arrived. They worked on her for about half an hour before taking her to the hospital, but she had already passed. My grandmother felt it, and so did I. The things you sense when someone is dying are indescribable.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were placed in a small room while the doctors continued to work on her. When the doctor finally came in and said they had tried their best but that she was gone, my grandmother broke down. Although we both knew deep down, the confirmation made it even worse.

In the early hours of the morning, we eventually started heading home. Other family members had arrived, but I couldn't sleep. I often heard my grandmother crying and telling others over the phone that you don’t expect your children to die before you.

A couple of days after my mother’s passing, I felt her presence one morning as I was waking from sleep. I distinctly heard her voice saying, "Please look after your nan." I visited her about four times in the chapel of rest, becoming obsessed with seeing her lie in her coffin. I was trying to make sense of it all and what life would be like without her. All these feelings poured out of me in tears.

When I rang one of my cousins to tell her the news about my mother's death, she was in shock and upset. She said she wanted to share something with me, hoping it wouldn’t upset me. She mentioned that one night she was playing with a Ouija board with some friends, and my mother’s name came up, along with the date and time of her death.

The day of my mother’s funeral was surreal. I had a strange surprise when a bird flew down from the chimney into the living room. Luckily, the fire wasn’t lit. It turned out to be a completely black budgie. When we caught it, I was bitten, but I was used to bird bites; the pigeons would peck hard if they were nesting babies. I took the budgie into the bathroom, filled the sink with lukewarm water, and closed the door, hoping it would have a bath.

Meanwhile, my grandmother and I prepared for my mother’s funeral, which was attended by hundreds, with our front lawn surrounded by flowers. After the funeral, I came home to find that the colorful budgie—green and blue—looked beautiful after its bath. I often wondered if that budgie was some kind of message from beyond or just a coincidence that I happened to have a budgie.

Since I didn’t have a cage, I couldn’t keep the bird as much as I wanted to. One of my aunties was there; she had owned birds like this before. I asked her if she wanted it, and she was very happy to take it, especially considering the story behind this budgie. We would often ask how the budgie was during phone calls, and I was delighted to hear it was doing well.

In the weeks and months that followed, my grandmother’s grief was often evident when I returned home from school. You could tell she was crying some nights, and I would hear her upset. The pain was unbearable. About two years later, after my mother’s death, I was still living with my grandmother.

One evening, my grandmother came home from a bingo night with some relatives, complaining of a headache but smiling, saying she got lucky and won some money. She asked if I wanted a hot chocolate made before going to bed. I said yes, and after drinking it, I went off to sleep. However, something unusual happened to me during that sleep.

It was my grandmother sitting by the side of my bed. I found it strange because she had gone to bed before me. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or half-awake, but she had this white light around her. She told me, "You will sleep until 11 a.m. tomorrow. When you wake, you’ll find me gone." I remember her holding my hand, and I stared into her eyes, thinking this was just a bad dream.

When the alarm went off at 11 a.m., I woke up to my dog barking frantically. I went to check the house and let the dog into the garden. No one was downstairs, which was unusual because my grandmother was an early riser. I walked into her room and, to my shock, saw her lying there—dead.

Experiencing this was shocking; I froze, not knowing what to do but cry. My grandmother was very precious to me. I still managed to ring an ambulance when I got myself together and then ran out onto the front lawn, crying, until the emergency services arrived.

Again, I was at a loss, wondering what would happen to me now that I had been left behind. I became scared, pondering what my future would hold. That night when my grandmother passed, little did I know this was my very last night there after a good few years.

Eventually, I went back to live with my father. I had lived there in my early childhood years, but my mother wanted to split with him, which led me to live with my grandmother. It was a very abusive environment growing up, but I don’t want to delve into that part; I think I’ll save it for another day. I only lived with him for about three months before I had enough.

Eventually, I got to live with a family friend of my grandparents and my mother. He was a very kind man who knew of my nan’s and mother’s passing and often did favors for my grandparents, so I got to know him well. I lived with him for a few years before meeting my husband.

During my time living with him, I had the opportunity to play cards and go to whist drives. He taught me how to cook many things and did what a normal father would do. Although I had a real dad, he didn’t want to know me at all, which is why I left. I knew there wouldn’t be a future there.

I don’t want to go through our life together too much; I only want to discuss his death. The day he died in front of me was another devastating loss. As this was happening, I experienced a shared death experience that will always remain personal to me.

Strangely enough, my mother came to me in a dream one more time. She told me to look and go to her grave. When I did, to my shock, I discovered someone else’s gravestone on top of my mother’s grave, which she never had. I had to get that sorted out due to a big mistake.

These experiences of loss led me to explore the paranormal. I found myself looking up near-death experiences (NDEs) and ghost stories, watching documentaries about the afterlife. I learned that the other side can communicate back if we listen hard enough. Everyone I’ve lost has appeared in my dreams. I believe the other side can communicate when we are asleep, offering us solace and connection beyond this life.

Through everything I’ve endured, I have learned not to fear death. My experiences have shown me that death is simply a transition. One day, I will look forward to meeting all my loved ones once again, embracing the idea of reuniting with them in the afterlife. This belief brings me comfort and hope as I navigate the challenges of life.