I Swear You Will Be Fine

I was talking to your mum the other day about psychic mediums and how they say that they often notice their ability to “see” these special things from a very young age. I then said that the ship has clearly sailed for me because I’ve never had experiences “interacting with the other side” or have seen anything out of the ordinary. And then I thought about a memory I had recalled shortly after you passed.

I still remember this scene clearly to this day. I was six, sitting on my dad’s lap at my grandma’s house and everyone was chatting away. Sitting across from my dad and me was a man in a full white outfit – a white cotton-type top with long sleeves, and a white cloth/towel tied around his lower half. I had never seen this man before, but then again at six, I had not seen many people and just assumed he was a friend of my grandma’s. He was looking around, sitting and smiling mostly at my dad and I. He repeatedly tilted his head to the side and smiled at me, like he was trying to play with me or make me laugh. And I, already the introvert I was, kept shyly smiling and looking away. He continued like that for a while, smiling and tilting his head at me, never chatting with anyone else. Soon after, he got up, waved goodbye to me – I gave him a small wave with a big smile now because he had been so friendly with me – and walked out of the house. He walked out so casually that you’d think he was just going to the next room. When my dad finally noticed me smiling and waving, he asked me who I was waving to. And I just casually pointed to the door and said, “That man who was sitting there, he keeps smiling”. My dad looked at my mum, at my grandma, and everyone started questioning me. “What man?” “There was no man there?” I was confused and kept telling them that I was playing with the man who was sitting there for ages. I even acted out what he did – with the head tilting and smiling and waving. I could even describe his face – thick mustache, slim build, not wearing shoes. Then, my grandma took a photo album out and I quickly identified the man, pointing to him standing beside her in an old family photo. I said that it was him and told them again that he was sitting there for so long, but wasn’t talking. I noticed my family looking at each other in disbelief, but I was so specific with my description of him that they had to believe me. That day, I learned that the man was my grandfather, who had passed on decades ago. I wasn’t at all scared that I had just met someone who wasn’t supposed to be walking the Earth anymore. I was quite happy to have met him actually; he seemed nice. Unfortunately, that was my only instance of ever seeing anyone from the other side. Very unfortunately, I have not seen you, and I don’t think I will.

We often talk about you being here with us – you could be sitting with your mum in the car or walking with me to school. We talk to you as if you’re right here with us, and you’re always a part of the conversation. Most of the time when I am alone in my room, I can picture you leaning against the wall watching me do whatever it is I’m doing. I look up at the nearest empty space around me, where I think you’d be sitting, and I talk to you as if you are right there. I like doing that… imagining your expressions, the way you’d be standing or sitting, the things you’d say.

My memory of seeing my grandfather makes me think maybe we aren’t mistaken at all. I think back to how I saw him walk out of the house so casually, and I realize that maybe death really is just the next room. Maybe it isn’t this scary, dark place where you go and never come back to Earth again. Maybe it’s just a short walk from where you’re most comfortable. Maybe it’s simply a quiet doorway, a thin wall, or a few steps right beside us. Maybe death isn’t about not being here, but a different way of being here. I think that’s why we can feel you; you’re just in the next room, a thin wall away.

When it is my turn to go to that same room, I will walk in familiar and unafraid, and I’ll be pleasantly greeted by my favorite person in the whole world.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha