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Here Comes Treble: ‘Close Encounters’ - or - Just My Imagination

...It would be good to know that those we love, who leave us behind in this world, continue to live and love in whatever the next may be...

Isabel Bradley tells of experiences which seem to be well beyond the realms of coincidence.

My father died just over sixteen years ago. I remember the moment he went as vividly as if it was yesterday. He’d had a stroke, then lain in the hospital, utterly incapacitated, for ten long days. As a school secretary, my official starting-time was seven-thirty, so I’d been at work for twenty minutes when I felt what can only be described as a ‘butterfly touch on my soul’. An indescribably beautiful feeling of love. Twenty minutes later, my mother phoned to tell me Dad had passed away at exactly ten to eight.

Did he visit me, so to speak, on his way out? I like to believe so.

That was many years ago.

Recently, I had another encounter with a passing spirit. I think.

In the late nineteen-seventies, I had a mother-in-law whom I now realise I loved more than her son. Her name was Lucy. For a while she and I were particularly close and shared all sorts of confidences. One of the things she told me was that she always grew sad when she heard the well-known and beautiful Bach-Gounod arrangement of ‘Ave Maria’. The opening motif and accompaniment of this work is by Bach, while the tune is by Gounod.

“Every time I hear it on the radio,” Lucy said, “I have news within a day or two that someone I was close to has died.”

It is many years since Lucy and I spoke or corresponded. Just over a week ago, at about four in the afternoon, I heard the opening notes of the Bach-Gounod ‘Ave Maria’ on the radio, and that conversation flashed through my mind. “How is the old girl?” I wondered, “I hope she doesn’t hear this, it will distress her…” Then the music turned into something completely different, and my thoughts left her.

Next day, my daughter, Lucy’s first, much-loved and lauded granddaughter, phoned me. After chatting a little, she said, “Granny Lucy died yesterday afternoon, just after four o’clock.”

Had Lucy tapped me on the spiritual shoulder in a final gesture of farewell?

I like to think so.

Why me? Maybe I’m just receptive to the spirits of those leaving this world for the next. Who knows? Maybe, it’s all my imagination.

It would be good to know that those we love, who leave us behind in this world, continue to live and love in whatever the next may be.

Until next time … ‘here comes Treble’

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by Isabel Bradley


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