Right after Herman’s death, I was very disturbed by what I felt was his spirit around me. It was a huge enveloping sensation. I fretted and chided myself. It must be the figment of the imagination of a grieving widow who could not accept the death of her husband. I paced my living room and angrily shouted up into the cathedral ceiling,
“Herman, if you are really there, show me, and in a way that I will know it is you”
A week after Herman’s death, I was invited to a Health Open House by my chiropractor. I had a sample Reiki session, which was pleasant enough, lying down, listening to tinkling music as the therapist moved her hands above my body. When I opened my eyes, I asked her if she had sensed anything in particular. She replied,
“I sense you are a bit stuck in life, and have difficulty moving forward, which is why I spent more time over your legs area.”
I immediately dismissed that remark, thinking that my chiropractor had probably told her that I was recently widowed.
For what ever reason, I then asked,
“Did you sense anything else?”
She hesitated and then said,
“I don’t know why, because it doesn’t make any sense to me, but I think I am supposed to give you a Marshmallow. Does this make sense to you?”
Indeed it did! Marshmallow was the name of my diseased Siamese cat, my favorite of all times. Tears welled up in my eyes. I am a huge cat lover, and if my husband ever wanted to get through to me, and convince me of an existence beyond this earth, this was the way to do it.