She had lived longer than any of us thought that she would. When my great grandmother died, she had set a record for a living longer than anyone else in my family, and still, her funeral was one of the saddest days in my childhood life. Even though we knew it was coming, that fact did not ease the pain. You can say whatever you want about the blessing of someone dying in their sleep of natural causes, but loss is loss, plain and simple.
I had never been to a funeral before. Some of the family didn't believe in God, so they compromised and held the service in neutral setting of a large funeral home. I didn't really understand what death was. You see the sweet hands of the old woman who used to hug you with those hands, hold you on her lap and feed you chocolate -- the woman who was always so happy that her face would light up as soon as she saw you, the woman who made you feel like the most special little girl in the whole world, and then when you see those same hands, that same face lying on her stone-like figure inside an open casket, you can't even believe it's real.
I walked up to her coffin alone, straining up on my toes a little to see over the side better. I reached out to touch her hand and shuddered, pulling it back because she was so cold. I said the only thing I could think of to her, "Goodbye. I love you." And then I went back to sit down.
The rest of my family was so busy talking amongst each other and some crying some just generally lost in their own experience that I was left alone. I sat there, sad and confused, unable to understand what was happening and with no one who was able to explain it to me.
Then I felt the softest touch of a warm hand on my left shoulder. I was so happy, thinking that someone had come over to try and make me feel better. I turned around instantly to look up into the eyes of whoever it was and say thank you.
But the second I turned around, no one was there.
Not only was no one standing next to me, but there was not a single person within a 100 yard radius of me in any direction. Besides that, the person who touched me had felt like they knew me. It was not the touch of a stranger. I turned and looked up at her body in that coffin, and I could her a very subtle whisper almost like her voice inside my head, saying:
"It's okay. I'm just not there anymore."
And I literally felt like this:
Source: Giphy.com
I almost laughed out loud. It was like a special joke between me and her, that she was still here, but no one else could see her or hear her or feel her. But I could. I knew the truth, that she wasn't really gone. She just had to move on, and the last thing she wanted was for me to feel sad about it.
My second experience with someone who passed on was even more unexpected and happened when I was a teenager.
At the time, I worked many hours in a job I hated in the food-service industry just because it was the easiest way to make money. I had a boss who was tougher on me than anyone had ever been. He never once praised me for anything that I did, no matter how hard I worked. Every day it was nothing but criticisms and complaints flying from his mouth in my direction about how I wasn't doing good enough. If I was lucky, he might be silent and just give me a disapproving look. I never saw him smile. He was so strict that everyone on staff was terrified, and he would send you home in a heartbeat if you so much as showed up late for your shift once and he could get someone else to cover your butt.
I just accepted that he was just a mean-natured old man, and that's just the way he was, and no one was going to change that. Therefore, I tried to ignore him as much as possible and stay away from them. I made sure to work extra hard when he was around like everyone else. As soon as I would leave work every day, I was more than happy to forget about him and my job completely.
One day, I went to work in the morning, and there was a sign on the door saying we would be closed for the day. I was shocked because we never closed, not even on holidays. I walked inside and the atmosphere was heavy with gloom. The people that I worked with who were normally joking around and trying to help wake each other up in the morning were all silent.
When I asked what happened, they told me that our boss was getting ready to go to work that morning, took a couple of steps out the front door of his house, and then he had a heart attack and died almost instantly right in front of his house.
All of a sudden, I felt guilty that I'd hated him so much. I had never even had a single pleasant conversation with him, and now he was dead and I had no more chances to resolve things between us. Part of me wondered if he was going to hell, or where he was. I thought maybe he could still see us, so I still decided to do my job well that day anyway, just for the sake of his memory. And then it hit me:
I thought that I had always hated him, but it wasn't really true. I was just annoyed that he kept pointing out every little thing I did wrong like he had nothing better to do. But deep down, I knew he was just doing his job, and he was actually making me much better at my job. Part of me was actually grateful to have him around because it made me so much better in the end. But it was too late to tell him that now.
That night, I was having a pleasant dream when suddenly my dead boss decided to crash it. He literally walked into my dream and interrupted it completely to get my attention. All the details became very sharp, clear and focused, so it was much more than a dream. It felt as if I was in another dimension of reality, and I could see him and hear him just as clearly as I could in real-life. He came walking up to me and gave me a big Bear hug.
It made me cry.
And then he looked at me with a huge smile and said, "You don't have to worry about my soul. I'm doing great."
Then we sat down at a table, and he asked me everything about my future plans for college, what I planned to do in the next five years, he asked all about my family and everything. And I was able to laugh with him, joke with him and tell him everything that I've always wanted to say just as if he was my close relative.
His eyes were shining with white light when we spoke, and I felt a tremendous peace. And I gave him another big hug to say goodbye and wished him all the best, thanking him for everything. Huge waves of happiness filled me as I realized that he had lived a full life, and I just hadn't been able to see how much love there was behind his words and actions.
Even today, I still feel he was one of the best bosses I've ever had. And at his funeral the next day, it was amazing to hear how many other people had secretly felt the same way even though they had never admitted it before.
Thanks to @jerrybanfield for this contest!
If anyone would like to read other stories I'm working on like my latest comedy series, please check out my Steemit blog @JoyLovesToWrite. I'll be sharing some SteemPower there soon!