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We Have to Look for the Signs

Story ID:8803
Written by:Michael Timothy Smith (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Caldwell Idaho USA
Year:2013
Person:Those gone
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I wrote this for a call out from Chicken Soup for a book titled, "Messages From Beyond". I received
the email from them regarding the topic on March 10, 2013 and thought I had plenty of time to
write a story for it.

I was wrong. The deadline was March 30.

Oh well, here is what I wrote for the book. It will become just another story in my collection.

We Have to Look For the Signs

Not long after my wife, Ginny, lost her first spouse Harvey, she sat at her
computer in her lonely home. Her son was out. It was just Ginny and her cats. She read
her emails and felt something flip the hair at the nape of her neck. She reached up to swat
what she thought was one of her cats away.

Her hand touched nothing.

A few minutes later, she felt it again and told her cat, who normally slept on the
back of her chair, "Stop it!" Then she noticed the cat across the room. She wondered if
her recently deceased husband was signaling her.

Ginny also had light switches being turned off and on when she was alone in
the house. She’d be in one room and see the lights turn on or off in another.

Were these signs?

A half a year later, my first wife Georgia passed away. I met Ginny in an online
Yahoo group for young widows and widowers. She was from North Carolina. I lived
hundreds of miles north in New Jersey.

We struck up a friendship.

During the few months we talked online or on the phone, Ginny had a dream.
She dreamt she was standing in a meadow full of wild flowers. It was a warm spring
day. In the distance she saw a familiar figure approaching her. It was Harvey.

Harvey walked up to her, put his arms around her in a warm embrace and
whispered in her ear, “It’s going to be OK.”

Then he was gone.

Ginny knew it had been Harvey, but his hug felt different. Everyone hugs in a
certain way. The hug she received in her dream was not Harvey’s hug.

It wasn’t long before she started to make frequent trips to New Jersey to stay
with me for a few days.

On her first visit, Ginny and I sat on the sofa. Above the TV stand, sat a snow
globe with the famous buildings of Manhattan towering over a landscape of false snow.
I bought it for Georgia, when I lived in New Jersey waiting for her and our son to
move from Ohio. It played the melody of "New York, New York"
Ginny and I sat on the sofa. I reached out and hugged her. "I'm so glad you
trusted me enough to come to Jersey.

At that very moment, the snow globe, which hadn't been wound in several
years, began to play.

During another visit, I hugged Ginny in the kitchen. Over her shoulder,
I watched a magnet on the refrigerator, slowly slide to the floor. The magnet had
been there for months without moving.

After her first visit, she told me, “Mike, I recognized you at the airport right
away from the pictures we shared. I wasn’t nervous, because I knew you so well from
our long conversations on the phone.

“Mike, when you hugged me that first time, I knew I was where I was supposed
to be.” She then told me about her dream of Harvey meeting her in the meadow. “Mike,
your hug was the one I felt in my dream. Harvey gave me a clue to my future. You
were my future.”

During some of Ginny’s visits, there were times when I had to work and my son
was in school. Ginny spent the day alone in my duplex. While reading a book, she’d
often hear strange unexplained noises, which we didn’t hear when my son or myself were
present.

We decided she was possibly on edge from being alone in a strange house by
herself. The noises continued whenever she was alone.

Five months after we first met in person, Ginny and I went into New York and
were married by a Justice of the Peace.

That evening, Ginny and I stood in our dining room. I reached out, took
her in my arms, kissed her and thanked her for becoming my wife. “I’m so happy,
Baby.”

As we hugged, the door leading downstairs, which had been wide open, slammed
closed with a bang so loud, Ginny and I both jumped.

I looked at Ginny, “Hun, I think that was Georgia sending a message telling me
she knows I am happy again and was leaving. She no longer had to look out for me.”

It was a joke at the time, but now I think I could have been right. Ginny never
heard a noise after that day.

I do believe lost love ones contact us in small ways. We just have to look for
the signs.”

Michael T. Smith