Abbie's Gift (17 page)

“OK” said Abbie, “but I’m not sure how this will sound. At first, it was as though I could hear his voice telling me he loved me; it was clear as crystal, the day of the funeral. I often tell him I love him as I’m falling asleep, that time when you’re neither asleep nor awake; I’ve heard him respond then, and it was so comforting.  If I relax I can somehow transport myself to him; it’s wonderful, but at first it was difficult and strange, unsettling even, but now I’m getting used to it”.

“So you’re saying it’s just like vivid memories?”

Abbie realised she could not admit the true nature of her experiences, “yes she replied, “that’s it, but it’s so true, real and intense”.

She continued

“I didn’t tell you this, but a while ago I went to the woods, it was where we went and scattered his ashes, and I saw him there. He came to me and told me everything was all right and not to worry”.

“That’s lovely’ said Rose.  “Do you think he has moved on yet?”

This took Abbie by surprise; she felt on uneasy ground. “No I don’t feel that he has yet”.

“Well” said Rose, heading again for the kettle, “I have to say it: he needs to and so do you”.

Abbie just about managed to raise a smile, but she didn’t speak. It surprised her to think her own mother had experienced what she had in some way, and that it had hurt just as much too.

“How long then before this pain is manageable, in a way that means I can function normally?”

“I don’t think it does get any better to be honest, you just somehow find the ability to live with it”.

“Has anything like this ever happened to you before?” Asked Rose

“No never, nothing at all. “How about you, mum, apart from what you said about dad?”

Rose smiled, “As a child I recall I had a pet rabbit, I guess I was 5 or 6 years old maybe, anyway it died and a friend and I buried it in the garden. That night I woke up in bed and it was there on the bed, the rabbit, I’m convinced of it. When I told my parents the next morning they didn’t believe me, telling me it was just a very vivid dream. Even today though I know it wasn’t a dream at all”.

Abbie felt this new sense of openness with her mother was somehow going to be a huge benefit to them both in all aspects of their relationship.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner about dad?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Peter?”

They looked at each other with renewed understanding, and both nodded and smiled.

“Of course it’s not the easiest thing to discuss”, said Rose, “and of course many people don’t want to discuss this type of thing”.

“I miss dad”, began Abbie, “the seven years seem to have passed so quickly but sometimes it seems like it’s been forever”.

“I think that too, time is odd isn’t it? The way at different times of life it seems to alter; as a child, even an hour can seem an eternity whereas now for me a day passes in an instant, and it seems to speed up as you get older”.

“Thanks mum” said Abbie smiling.

Rose looked at Abbie, “You know it’s been a while since I went to the cemetery, would you like to come with me?”

“Yes, of course, why don’t we go tomorrow?”

By mid-morning the next day, the sun was shining brightly through the branches of the trees and casting long shadows. The cemetery was silent apart from the sound of some crows in a nearby tree, and the quiet was suddenly disturbed by the bell of the church as it struck on the hour.

The graveyard was a mix of both modern stone masonry and older Victorian designs; row upon row of old, dark, curved tablets of stone, monuments to those long deceased, with the occasional stone cherub clinging to a cross looking on mournfully. In the centre there was a peeked tower of such elaborate design that was almost church-like, signifying the idea that it was possible to buy a place in heaven by spending lavishly on an earth-bound memorial.  Over by the church wall were box-like tombs that sat above the ground. As a youngster, Abbie had often feared seeing the lids open, allowing their occupants to emerge to terrorise and torment.

Once at the grave they came to see, Rose and Abbie stood for a few moments in silence, observing the headstone that informed those inclined to pause and read, that here lay Eric, beloved husband and father.

They put some flowers in the stone urn; the blooms, bright and cheerful, seemed out of place in this grey, bleak landscape of stone and misery, but somehow they seemed to brighten and lift their surroundings.

The wind blew a stiff cool breeze, and Abbie began to feel a sense of unease. At first it was glimmer of mental tension and then a knot in her stomach, then strangely it was as though any confidence in herself was being sucked out of her body and into the ground below her; she was unable to stand still and deliberately moved her feet, as though breaking the connection with any dark forces below her. She took a deep breath and deliberately moved away from her mother. The sense of heat in her body began to rise and she was aware of her cheeks flushing and had to undo the top buttons of her coat, allowing herself to try to cool a little.

The crows in the nearby tree gave out a sudden shrill squawk and took flight. Abbie turned and as she did so, again thought that she caught a glimpse of something human, flesh-like, moving amongst the nearby grave stones behind her. The wind stirred the dead leaves on the ground, whipping up a cloud of dust and debris. She continued to look around her but realised that of course once it was aware its presence had been felt, it had vanished as quickly as it arrived.

They walked back to the car. Rose somehow seemed smaller to Abbie, and she put her arm around her shoulder.  It wasn’t until Rose sat in the car that she allowed herself to cry.

As Abbie drove slowly down the narrow cemetery path, she glanced in her rear view mirror and for a brief moment she was again sure that she saw a flesh-coloured small human-like shape move between the upright stones. Then, the car rounded a curve to the left on the path, and the rear view in the mirror changed to trees and shrubs rather than old, cold stones and demons.

In Rose’s household, even as a child she had been taught that tea was the elixir for all ills, and it still today was used for its soothing, warm and calming effect.

For Abbie, the new feeling of togetherness and understanding with her mum was very comforting.  She decided to call Kate who, by chance, was free to come for tea that evening.

As Abbie was getting the food ready, she realised she felt glad that her friend was able to visit her, rather than wishing she’d leave her alone as she had done for some weeks.

Kate arrived shortly after 6 pm., and Abbie again felt a real sense of gratitude for the help and love Kate had shown her a few weeks previously. Abbie thought of Kate as the true definition of a friend; not someone who performs a function when it suits them, but someone who gives when there is need and seeks nothing in return.

Abbie felt that she wanted to be open and honest with Kate also, just as she had been with her mother, but didn’t know how best to proceed. What would Kate’s reaction be? From what Abbie could recall, she wasn’t into the idea of an afterlife or any spiritual dimension.

They chatted freely about nothing in particular, gossip that overall was of little importance, but made suitable mealtime discussion.

Kate so far had deliberately avoided asking Abbie how she was, giving her the space she had requested, and not wanting to pressurise her or make her feel obliged in any way.  Eventually, there seemed to be a suitable pause, so Kate asked “So what have you been up to then?”

“Well, yesterday, mum and I had a lovely time together; we talked a lot and it did us both good.  Then this morning we went to dad’s grave and took some flowers.  Did you know he’s been gone over seven years?”

Kate looked surprised, “time doesn’t hang about does it?”

“No, and according to mum, it gets faster as you get older, and continues to speed up!”

“Don’t” said Kate, gesturing for her to stop talking, “it’s too fast already!”

“Mum and I have something quite special in common; I never would have thought it”, Abbie continued hesitantly,

“What’s that then, you have to tell me now!”

“Well OK, but I’m not sure what you’ll make of it”

“Try me”, replied Kate, looking puzzled.

“She saw Dad after he died”

“Ok, and you mean that you did too?”

“No, not dad, Peter”.

“What! No way, you’re having me on aren’t you?”

“No I’m not, not at all, he was as real as you are to me now”.

Kate sat up straight, trying to take it all in.

Abbie continued, “actually it’s been a few times, it’s lovely and reassuring”.

“So he just appeared? Where, here in this house?”

“No, somewhere else.  Somehow I’ve been able to go to him, to see him spiritually”.

Kate looked alarmed by what she’d just heard.

“Hang on a minute!  You’re telling me this happened, but Abbie, you mean in your dreams right?”

“No, not dreams, visiting him in reality.”

At the start of this conversation Abbie hadn’t planned to reveal this, but somehow she had, so she’d now have to deal with the aftermath and her friend’s reaction.

“Okay…” said Kate slowly, taking a deep breath and sitting back while pulling her fingers through her hair.

“I’m not sure what to say, or what you expect me to say. You know I don’t believe in all that sort of stuff, I think that there must be a logical explanation”.

“So you don’t believe me?”

“No I do believe what you say: I accept that you did see Peter, and if that makes you feel good and comforted then that’s fine and what I want that for you, but I believe there is a different explanation. I don’t believe that it’s real, I think that somehow, and I can’t explain it, that it happened in your mind but seemed so real you genuinely thought it had happened in reality.  I don’t think you’re mad at all, just grieving and that’s OK”.

“Abbie”, Kate continued, looking concerned.  “Peter is not coming back, he’s gone.  Don’t get bogged down in this; if you do it will only leave you with more upset, and you don’t need that”.

Abbie felt her cheeks flushing.

“I know he’s dead, you don’t have to remind me”, she said, feeling embarrassed by her revelations and that she’d almost been put in her place for revealing what was important to her.

“I don’t want to upset you” said Kate taking her friend’s hand, “but be careful who you tell this to, eh, you don’t need any backlash.  I’m just looking out for you that’s all”.

“Ever the scientist, logic and truth eh?” Abbie said, managing to smile at Kate; somehow she sensed no damage had been done between them.

Kate winked at her and nodded at her, “That’s me, you know me so well.  But I’m here for you, if you ever want to talk about him OK? I’m not ever going to sit in judgment either”.

“Thanks, but I’m now seeing a professional about that sort of thing, remember?’

“Oh yes, how’s it going?”

“Ok I guess, only been once so far”.

“Did it help?”

“Don’t know really, maybe, early days though, I’m going back in few days”.

“Is he fit?” asked Kate grinning with anticipation of the answer.

“You’re terrible!” replied Abbie “I didn’t notice”.

“Yes, I believe that, Miss Athletic, fit and toned, but I bet he noticed you”.

“Don’t say that”, said Abbie with a dismissive wave of the hand.

“Will you tell him?”

“What?”

“What you just told me?”

“I don’t know yet, we’ll see how it goes, maybe, I don’t know”.

“That might be a good idea” said Kate, smiling

Abbie sensed one of her funny jibes was coming.

“Do you think he has straitjackets in a size ten?”

“Oh ha bloody ha, and for your info it would be an 8”

They both laughed together.

“I thought that you’d lost more weight?”

“Yes, it’s all the exercise, I’m more toned and firmed; you should try it, come with me sometime”.

“Erm, OK then, we’ll see”

“Ah so that’s a no then?”

They continued to laugh together, something they hadn’t done for some time, and it felt good.

Later that evening Abbie sat in the lounge, trying to put the pieces of her recent experiences into some perspective, but her mind betrayed her, flitting from thought to thought, and she was unable to find any real sense of focus.

It had been a few days since she had last written in her journal, so she spent some time describing recent events; this she found helpful as, once the words were clear in front of her, it gave her the focus she was looking for to help her keep some perspective.

Abbie now acknowledged the fact that she seemed to have attracted an admirer from another spiritual dimension - not quite a prince charming but a visitor into her world - but why? What had made this happen to her? Would she ever understand this?