. Twitter Stories
.Current Affairs
.Incarceration Stories
.Meeting Celebrities
.Memorable Encounters
.Natural Disasters
.Short Stories

The world wants to know your story



The Embarrassed Spirit

When I lived in San Angelo, Texas, and was in graduate school, I was part of a poetry-reading group that met once a month. Many of us liked to workshop our poems and read them aloud to each other, “testing” the rhythm, the words, how it flowed, etc.

One day I was excited about reading a poem I had written for my grandmother, who had died several years earlier. I was really proud of it, and I submitted it, along with several other poems, to a magazine. It was accepted just a few months later and published.

Shortly after this, I experienced what I feel was not a “dream,” but a “spirit visitation,” which took place while I was asleep. In came several of my “deceased relatives,” filing by me, all looking very much like I remembered them, even wearing the same style of clothing, or a particular dress or suit I had liked. The only difference was, they all looked quite younger and healthier than I remembered, but I still could clearly recognize each one of them.

Finally, my grandmother came by, and she was difficult to see; she seemed “darker” than the others, and she had her head slightly turned away from me, and her shoulders were pulled down, hunched-over. She did make very quick eye-contact with me, but then she “shuffled” aside, and they all left.

When I awoke, I instantly realized that my grandmother, who had always been a very modest, quiet woman, was trying to tell me that she was “embarrassed” about being talked about and discussed so openly among the other graduate students in my poetry group! I also got a clear feeling that she wasn’t so happy about being “published” without her consent!

I just had to laugh at this one; I talked to her after that when in a meditative state and explained that I was simply rejoicing in her life, and that no one thought anything about it, other than she was a remarkable woman who just happened to be my grandmother – and, I also reassured her, since I knew this kind of thing mattered to her – that none of the “neighbors would talk!”

She’s never “stopped by” again. Maybe she’s still holding a grudge!

Article views: 4220

Your StoryLeap Username

Your StoryLeap Password

Don't have username / password? Click here to create account

Your Comment

To avoid spam robots from submitting this form, please solve the simple math problem below


Digg del.icio.us Reddit StumbleUpon Facebook Google Newsvine YahooMyWeb TechnoRati


. A Shift of Time
. Lost
. Life In Mono
. Federal versus State Time
. Georgian Gambit
. Barack My World
Subscribe to our newsletter

Subscribe to StoryLeap RSS

  Home | Terms of Use | Privacy Policy | Contact
© 2007 StoryLeap - All Rights Reserved


Web Design by blackDot.ca - Web Design Toronto, Web Development & Marketing in Toronto  blackDot.ca