A couple of weeks ago, Brooke and I stopped by my parent’s new condo. They had their friends over visiting so we stayed for a short time talking.
Somehow we got onto the subject of sharing stories of strange happenings once a family or loved one has passed.
Stories that give you goose bumps.
We were about to leave and I wanted to share the story of the light in Brooke’s bedroom the day we buried her daddy.
I asked my mom to take Brooke outside, so she couldn’t hear. My fear was if she heard it, she would be afraid to sleep in her room.
I share my experience, we say our goodbye’s and we head home.
In the car Brooke was furious with me. Feeling I wasn’t being honest with her about something causing her to leave the room. I explain to her that some conversations are not for her to hear. She was very upset with me and she wouldn’t drop the subject.
In frustration, I told her it was a story about her daddy. That sometimes I feel his presence.
She point blank says, “I feel his presence, too!”
I am caught off guard. I ask her, “What do you mean you feel his presence?”
Brooke said, “I smell him in my room sometimes.” Whoa, I ask her why she never told me this before? We are a no-secrets household!
Brooke shares with me that it has happened only a couple of times where she will have a really good dream and wakes up happy to the smell his cologne filling her room.
She said that if you smell his ruby ring hard enough, you can smell him, but that the smell in her room is much stronger like he is right there.
My heart hurts for her that she smells his ring to smell her daddy.
She said she isn’t afraid at all, that it makes her feel good.
I’m glad she finds comfort in this.
I admit, sometimes it rattles my nerves.
