White Horse
One of my favorite memories are memories of signs of loved ones that have passed still being there. I was close to my grandparents. I had always stayed with my grandma and grandpa when I was little. I lost my grandfather when I was about 8 and my grandmother had passed when I was 11 years old. Loved them dearly. Beautiful people! The day after my grandmother passed though, our family had come from Illinois to stay in good ole’ Bedford county. Ha! They weren’t used to seeing my dad’s cows and horses, but loved it none the less. We were sitting on my grandmother’s porch talking and eating food. Celebrating our loved ones home going. The morning had gone. She would’ve wanted it that way. Happiness. Not much bothered her so she always kept a smile. My aunt went to the side of the porch to pour out her drink and she tilted her cup but I didn’t hear anymore drink hit the ground.
“What a pretty white horse!” She said. It was like she was froze. She never seen a horse before? I didn’t think anything about it until I snapped out of it. White horse?
“Diane, we don’t have a white horse. Mine are all dark brown. You sure?”
He got up from his chair and looked. Everyone grew quiet.
“I don’t see it.” He said. “Right there”, my aunt pointed. My dad shook his head. Then, my aunt said it had ran into the woods again. We had never had a white horse. We didn’t even have any white cows. The white horse my aunt seen was awfully mysterious, but I had wished I would’ve seen it. Of course, it may have only showed itself to her for a reason we would never know.
One of my favorite memories are memories of signs of loved ones that have passed still being there. I was close to my grandparents. I had always stayed with my grandma and grandpa when I was little. I lost my grandfather when I was about 8 and my grandmother had passed when I was 11 years old. Loved them dearly. Beautiful people! The day after my grandmother passed though, our family had come from Illinois to stay in good ole’ Bedford county. Ha! They weren’t used to seeing my dad’s cows and horses, but loved it none the less. We were sitting on my grandmother’s porch talking and eating food. Celebrating our loved ones home going. The morning had gone. She would’ve wanted it that way. Happiness. Not much bothered her so she always kept a smile. My aunt went to the side of the porch to pour out her drink and she tilted her cup but I didn’t hear anymore drink hit the ground.
“What a pretty white horse!” She said. It was like she was froze. She never seen a horse before? I didn’t think anything about it until I snapped out of it. White horse?
“Diane, we don’t have a white horse. Mine are all dark brown. You sure?”
He got up from his chair and looked. Everyone grew quiet.
“I don’t see it.” He said. “Right there”, my aunt pointed. My dad shook his head. Then, my aunt said it had ran into the woods again. We had never had a white horse. We didn’t even have any white cows. The white horse my aunt seen was awfully mysterious, but I had wished I would’ve seen it. Of course, it may have only showed itself to her for a reason we would never know.
SUBTLE CONTACT
Not often am I spooked or scared out of my wits. I analyze too much for that. I do, however, believe that there are spirits out there who love to comfort us more than frighten us.
I never met my maternal grandmother. Unfortunately, she passed away before I was born, before my brother was born. (He’s ten years older than me). My mother was not even married yet. From what I know, she passed from an aneurism. I wish I could’ve met her because from hearing about her, she reminds me a lot of myself. We both play piano at church, she taught in school, and I am currently aspiring to be a teacher.
My family often visit the home where my mother grew up. It’s in the very very quiet country area of Wythville, VA. The only neighbors out there are deer and things that eat deer. One night, I had settled myself on the couch in the den. My parents had been asleep upstairs for quite some time. I turned off the tv and begin to drift off. I flipped my wrist over once more before completely giving in to the heavy feeling of my eyelids. 1:15 a.m. Yep, time to go to sleep. You know that feeling you get when you’re ALMOST dreaming? The kind of feeling right before you jolt yourself awake? I was getting there, but got stuck? I guess you could say stuck. I couldn’t move, yet I knew I wasn’t asleep and wasn’t awake either really. I could feel a tingly feeling on the side of my face. It felt like someone had gently swiped a dandelion down my face. And then once it ceased, a heavier sensation started from the top of my head down to the side of my face, to under my chin. This time it felt like a hand. And then there it was! That jolting feeling. I felt like I was falling and sat straight up. Looking at the light the moon was casting in on the floor, I rubbed my eyes. I went to walk into the kitchen for water and on my way the moonlight touched something else; ever so softly illuminating a picture of my grandmother.