“Both my parents died last year – my dad in March and my mum in November. A week after my mum died, I was in the kitchen with my son, making breakfast. My son was just over 2 years old then.
He was at the table, facing the windows (no curtains, floor to ceiling style), and I was at the sink. He suddenly called out, ‘Opa and Oma are outside.’
I came running over to him and he was pointing to the window insisting Mum and Dad were standing outside looking in. He was speaking very clearly…there was no mistaking what he was saying, nor what he was meaning. I asked if he wanted Opa and Oma to be there, and he said, ‘No. They’re standing outside. We have to go to them. Open the door. Let’s go outside.’
So, of course, agnostic skeptic though I am, my heart was beating like mad and we dashed outside to see the twilight of dawn…and nothing else. My son looked around disappointedly, asking where they were.
Were they there? I don’t know. I hope so. Maybe they were behind him, and he saw the reflection. It does somewhat warm me to think they were together, and could see my son, their only grandchild.
There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophy…”
~Lana

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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