Sometimes (lately) I see my Momma. It always comes as shock.
At a time when I least expect to see her.
Sometimes it’s just her voice I hear, but it’s loud and clear…like the time I was getting ready to open one of the shed doors and she said, very strongly, like she was standing right next to me: “Linda, Be aware! Pay Attention”!
It was so strong, so loud, so real, I even answered her—“Of what, Momma?”
As I turned toward her voice—of course, she wasn’t there.
Momma died in 2000.
Or I’m washing my face, or my hair and I look up into the mirror over the bathroom sink and I see Momma…right there her smiling face covering my face, then it fades.
It always startles me. Then I think, it must be that I am looking more and more like Momma.
Or I’m doing something, peeling potatoes, washing up the dishes, scrubbing the floors on my hands and knees as my arm and hand move back and forth I suddenly see Momma’s hand(s) as she did those things I am now doing.
It’s rather shocking because my hands have dented and bent knuckles…one caused by a hit from a basketball when I was in high school…Momma’s hand never had knuckles like mine.
Another time I was walking out to the hen house and I could have sworn I saw Momma coming down the long, long lane toward me. I almost ran toward her, then the strange apparition was gone.
Faded away. As if it had never been.
I can’t explain these visions or feelings, or things heard; they are like wind blowing through the treetops, the changing lights in the smiling sky…but last night as I lay down to sleep, I felt Momma kiss my forehead just like she used to do when I was a small child.
Thank you, Momma, I love you too!
From my world to your heart,