« oh happy day | Main | Jesus loves you »
October 31, 2005
Last installment - I see dead people
The last installment... I see dead people
On the last day of fifth grade I was to spend the night at Rhonda Pier's house. She lived on a farm out in the country and since we had to pick-up our report cards from school the next day we instead spend the night at her grandparent's house. They lived in town in a little 1940's bungalow with a screened in front porch and in the living room, there was a couch which folded out into a double bed.
We were very excited to get our report cards because if our grades were good enough, my mom was going to take us to the brand new McDonald's for a treat. Ok look, we lived in a town so small that we didn’t even have a stop light at the time, so Mickey D's was a big deal.
Anyway, that night at Rhonda's grandparent's house we had a grand time. We danced on the front porch, while listening to a little old radio. I specifically remember dancing to Centerfold by the J. Geil's Band. We played board games and laughed like 11 year old girls are wont to do.
Eventually we exhausted ourselves and crawled into bed. Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up because I heard someone calling my name. At the foot of the bed in a sort of misty haze was my dedo (Serbian for grandfather). My sleep addled brain was trying to make sense of the situation. I didn't understand how he could have been there, he didn't know Rhonda or her family and besides he lived in California at the time.
I couldn't figure out why he was wearing the outfit he had on. He was very "old country" in his dress and I only remember ever seeing him in the typical black shoes and pants with a wife beater t-shirt and a white button down shirt over it. In this moment he was wearing a brown suit, white shirt and brown bowler type hat. He was talking but I couldn't hear what he was saying, it was fuzzy and garbled. I kept saying "What, what?" Then he said, clear as a bell, "It's all right, don't cry." And then he was gone.
I freaked out. I woke Rhonda and frantically told her what had happened. She was still half asleep and assured me that it was all just a bad dream and that I should just go back to sleep. I lay staring at the ceiling for what seemed an interminable amount of time before falling back to sleep.
We woke early the next morning and had pancakes and sausages while waiting for my mom to pick us up. I was still thinking about dedo when my mom showed up. I rushed down the front steps to the sidewalk to tell my mother all about my "dream". She barely had a second to get out of the car when I had already spilled out my story to her. I could see she had been crying and when she heard my words she started to cry again. She calmly told me that my uncle had called in the middle of the night from California to tell her that their father, my dedo had passed away.
I didn't understand.
I didn't cry.
We still picked up our report cards and went to McDonald's like any normal day.
Then several days later my mom and I flew to San Francisco, where we were picked up by my uncle's friend who drove us to my aunt and uncle's house in Sebastopol. All of my aunts and my baba (grandma) were there. It was the first time I would have to go to a funeral. At first I was enjoying myself because my aunt and uncle and cousin lived up in the mountains in a fancy "log cabin" and they had chickens, dogs, cats and horses, which I got to ride. And it was only a few days until my 12th birthday so I was having fun even if all the adults seemed very sad.
Then we had to go to the funeral. I didn't want to go up to the casket. I had never seen death before. My uncle took my hand and went with me. My dedo was there but not. And strangely he was wearing a brown suit, white shirt and a brown bowler hat. I said goodbye.
It's been twenty-two years, I still miss him dearly. And sometimes I feel guilty because I've never cried. But I know it's all right.
Posted by bugg at October 31, 2005 01:56 PM
Comments
Death has a way of warning us. I remember when a close friend of mine died, I was out to dinner with a boy and I got a page from my friend Erica. I got up from the booth and went to a pay phone to call her back (pre everyone-and-their-brother-has-a-cell-phone era). I knew, the minute I dialed her number that something bad happened. In fact, before she could even say anything I said, "Dana died, didn't she." How could I have known that, except that it made it easier on Erica because she didn't have to speak the words herself.
Posted by: melanie at November 1, 2005 02:30 PM
HOLY SHIT! That's crazy!
Posted by: Armaedes at November 2, 2005 02:00 PM
Melanie - I know what you're saying. It's not the only time I have that kind of feeling come over me but it's the only time I've ever had a visit from someone.
Armaedes - Somehow though it seemed perfectly normal. I miss being able to comment on you blog, sigh. When you diasbled anonymous comments it also removes "other" and you know I'd fall into that category. Your blog to today crapped - uh I mean cracked me up.
Posted by: bugg at November 2, 2005 02:37 PM
soooo freaky! these types of visitations are often family members who have just passed and are saying goodbye. so sad, yet so amazing! i only wish...
Posted by: ms bees knees at November 4, 2005 04:06 PM