I'd lived in my current house for 3 years when I met Francis who lived in a house across the street. My daughters' father helped us meet. He had been outside one night, on the 4th of July, and saw her standing in her driveway. He and I had decided to stay home that night due to the age of our daughter, at the time, and the hour that the fireworks started (and also because of the grueling traffic that makes getting out of the parking lot across from the park take an hour every year).
Cody came in the house and told me the neighbor could see the parks’ fireworks display from a spot in her driveway, through a clearing in the trees. It was a nice warm night and I decided to check it out.
She was pleased to meet me and said she watched the fireworks this way every year. Her husband, who also seemed to be in his 50's, was inside watching TV. We enjoyed the show while talking about the age and size of our houses and the previous owner who had lived in mine. Apparently he had a habit of passing out on the porch and had a touch of tourettes.
I told her how much I appreciated her husband each winter for using his snow plow to clear everyone's driveway after he finished theirs. Because of him, I felt I'd found the best neighborhood to live in on the planet. He never asked me if I needed it, I'd just look out my window and they he'd be.
However, the baby monitor soon called me back into my house and I didn't talk to Francis again after that day. We waved hello sometimes but that was it.
A few months later I was getting out of my car while returning from an errand when another neighbor across the street (I met when her tree fell in my yard) called my name. I went over to chat with her and she asked if I'd seen the ambulance on our street that morning. I hadn't and she said someone had died at Francis’ house. Another neighbor came out too and joined the speculation as to which one of them it was. Neighbor number 3 was certain it was the husband. She saw it all happen outside of her window. Neighbor #2 said she'd check in with Francis since their yards touched and she chatted with them more regularly.
Later that day neighbor #2 confirmed the husbands passing and we all stood around sharing our shock and disappointment. "He was so nice", we all agreed. Neighbor #2 said they might offer to do yard work for Francis since he usually did it all. Neighbor #3 considered taking her a meal. They both said they'd attend the funeral. I never spoke words with him, but since I'd met Francis that night on the 4th of July, something in me felt I should attend the viewing so that she'd know I knew at least.
Neighbor 2 texted me all of the information for the funeral and viewing . His name was John. I hadn’t known that.
I was pretty accustomed to going everywhere with my partner and baby but asked if he wouldn't mind keeping Aya and letting me go solo. I didn't think it was anything the baby really needed to be dragged out to and I wouldn't be gone longer than an hour.
He agreed and after having dinner at a quick chain restaurant, I drove the short distance, alone, to the funeral home.
On the way there I felt a familiar feeling on my head. I get what I call "tingles" fairly often. I know it's a psychic thing but I'd never really been able to figure out anything much about it. One time I'd tried automatic writing to connect with my guides to see what the tingling meant and they said "we want to talk to you" but I didn't know if it was just me thinking that or really them so I took it with a grain of salt.
However, for the first time I wondered if this tingling had started up because John knew I was on the way to his funeral. It felt like I was onto something there and I decided to silently ask what he would like for me to share with his wife, if anything. I had three thoughts enter my head and then I arrived.
As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I started crying. I never cry, at least I not at this point in my life. In fact, my oldest daughter never saw me cry until she was 7 and I'd just had a premature baby who I hated leaving in the NICU. But now I was here, crying real tears for a man I'd never technically met. And I had no idea why.
As I got out of the car and walked towards the building I was feeling more self conscious. I don't know these people! What was I thinking!? Everyone here was friend or family and then there was me, a total stranger, who was visibly crying (and my face gets very red when I cry).
Once inside, I grabbed a couple of tissues from the first box I saw and scanned the room for the other neighbors. No one else was there that I recognized except Francis. She was standing about 10 feet from the head of the coffin and she had a line of 8 people waiting to give her their condolences. I didn't know what else to do so I joined the line.
The line moved slowly and I had plenty of time to watch the slideshow loved ones always make for funerals. It was now obvious to me that they had never had children, they were very happy and were old high school sweethearts with lots of good memories. I was now weeping.
The slow line gave me plenty of time to agonize about why I had ever thought this was a good idea. I felt so awkward. I was crying abnormally hard.
Finally, it was my turn to greet Francis.
"I don't know if you remember me but I'm your neighbor who watched fireworks with you. I don't really know why I'm crying but I think John gave me a message for you while I was on the way here and I don't know if you believe in that stuff." I looked on hopefully, my eyes leaking buckets.
She said she did, that she was "very intuitive".
'Oh thank god', I felt slightly less terrified.
I told her again, through blubbering tears, that I didn't know why I was crying, that I knew "this isn't ME" but that I was empathic. She said there was a lot of love in the room and I must be feeling it. I agreed (but now I notice tears happen anytime I channel recently departed people for a loved one).
I finally gave her the three messages. "First, John says he loves you very much. He also wants you to know that he's here, like RIGHT HERE, right now..." and I felt the need to be very emphatic about this as if he was standing next to her and not over in the coffin that was in plain view. "... he will stay with you until after everything settles down and help you get it all sorted."
I second guessed myself at this point because to me those messages sounded so text-book and cheesy but she immediately went into a story about how she'd spoken to him in the bathroom before the viewing started and told him to stay with her because she needed him to give her the strength to get through it. She insisted that it was no accident that I was there and she was so thankful that I'd come.
I was so moved that this awkward, cockamamie situation I had fallen into was exactly what she would find comforting. I gave her a hug and offered to analyze her dreams if he showed up since I knew they'd be visiting each other while she was sleeping.
I wept all the way to the door and back to my car. Within two minutes of driving away the tears dried completely.
... Several days later
I got a card from Phyllis in the mail. She'd actually put postage on the envelope even though I can see her front door from mine. She thanked me and told me how wonderful I'd made her feel. Later, out on the street, she flagged me down to do it again.
She told me a story that “for years” her husband complained on a regular basis whenever he would get home from work. There was a busy main road close to our street that a flock of geese would regularly stop traffic on. He complained because he would have to wait for them to cross the road before he could finish his commute. She said she used to tell him he was making it up because there were so many businesses in that area and she'd never once had this happen. I agreed that it sounded surprising to me too because I'd never seen anything like that either.
In the few days since his funeral, however, she said it had happened to her at least three times on her way home from work.
"He's sending signs that he's with me", she said.
I was touched to hear this story and agreed that he'd surely had a hand in making that happen at the right moment so she'd know he was with her. A funny way of doing it too: “told you”!
That same week, I was stopped by a flock of geese crossing in the same spot she mentioned had happened to her and her husband. In my 4.5 years in this house, this was the only time it ever happened.
In my car, waiting for the herd of geese to cross, I smiled.
....and told John, "you're welcome".