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Echoes from the Ages:
Talking Story with Crystal Skulls
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"Joe" and Grama
I have had a companion in spirit with me all of my life.
I call him 'Joe.' He was my imaginary playmate
when I was a kid. But unlike most children, my "friend" never faded away. By the
time I was a teenager, I knew that none of my friends had a "friend."
This really scared me and I ended up going to see a psychiatrist, to get him to help me to be
'normal.' But
that is another story. This story is about a series of strange events that happened right
after my Grandmother died. It’s also a story of how I lost my faith for a time, and
how, with the help of my Guardian Angel, Joe, I
regained it.
When my Maternal Grandmother died, I was devastated with grief. We had been extremely
close. The day before her death, I paid her a visit. I could see that she was getting
ready to pass over. I went home, and I stayed up almost all night, letting go of her,
ritualistically. I felt that I must do this so that I would not hold on to her and delay
her passing.
At about 6:30am the next morning, Joe came to me and told me that she had passed. I
felt so alone and helpless. He said to me, "Give your Grama to me, Sherry, I'll take
care of her". I knew he meant that he would help her with her transition. He told me
that she was with a sister named Maryanne. I had never heard of a sister with that name,
but was too upset to argue. I can still see myself looking in the bathroom mirror,
brushing my hair, thinking, "Here I am, combing my hair as I do everyday, and my
Grandmother is dead. Nothing will ever be the same again, and I am just combing my
hair". This was the first time that I realized fully that life goes on, with or
without us.
My Grama had made a final request of me that was outrageous and she had me make a
death-bed promise that I would carry this request out. I did promise her, knowing full
well that my Mother would never let me do as she had asked, and rightly so. I felt great
guilt over this. I focused on this feeling instead of the real issue of my sadness and
grief.
The next night, I woke up at 3:11am. (Grama was born on March 11, 1911.) I had dreamed
that my arm was on fire. I was just terrified and sure that my Gram was angry with me for
not carrying out her final wishes. I didn't sleep for the rest of the night.
The next day, I went with my Father to pick up Grama's ashes. When I held that box I
felt the utter lifelessness of the contents. Never before had I ever felt something so
completely devoid of feeling. There were no subtle energies coming from it; nothing of my
Grama was here. I felt an emptiness enfold me as I realized that everyone and everything
that we know, love and work for passes away, eventually. It truly is "ashes to ashes,
dust to dust ". For the first time I became aware that for me, life is only an empty
existence without my faith. And I felt my faith wavering.
The day of her memorial dawned beautifully. We were to drive up to San Francisco in two
cars, meet at the Pier and go out on a small boat to scatter her ashes in the water near
Angel Island, in the Bay. My friend, Leslie, drove us, since I was in no shape to do so.
Another childhood friend, Bill, went with me, as I stood on the pier, waiting for the rest
of the family to find parking spots and join us. About 45 minutes passed, and no one came.
I was holding this box with my Grama's ashes in it, standing in the middle of a Saturday
crowd at Fisherman's Wharf, feeling the total desolation of the bereaved. I once more
realized that life without my faith was not worth living. I felt that I couldn't go on
without it, and I couldn't imagine how I could restore it. With no belief that I would be
heard, I decided to claim the Bible's promise that if we are truly in need of a sign and
ask for one, we will receive it. Although I was very earnest, this was not a
prayerful request; this was more like a challenge to God.
Bill and I were getting worried, since my normally prompt family was still nowhere to
be seen. We were afraid that the boat might leave without us. We decided to try and find
the Captain of the boat and tell him to wait for us. We walked around, checking all of the
places that we could see where there were boats and pier numbers. No boat. We couldn't
even find the Pier that we were supposed to be at. The crowd was pressing around us and I
began to feel panicky. At one point, we almost got on the wrong boat for someone else's
Funeral. Finally, we walked around to the back of a restaurant, intent on finding a
someone, perhaps a worker, to help us.
All of a sudden it became still around us. A man approached us and walked right up to
us, looking directly at me. He came up to me, and said "My name is Joe. Sherry, give
your Grama to me; I'll take care of her". I was in shock, Bill looked like he was
about to faint. I handed the box to the man. Just as this happened, my family arrived. We
looked at each other in amazement and we all followed the man onto a boat.
It turned out that this man was the Captain of the boat and he was puzzled as to why he
had said these things to me. He wasn't sure how he had known my name. It just "came
out of his mouth". But, being a practical man, he shook off his "spooky
feeling" and took us out onto the Bay. As all of us sat in the cabin, he took Grama's
ashes out and was going to put them into a silver urn, but it had disappeared. We all
began to laugh, since the cardboard box was much more suited to my earthy Grandmother than
a silver urn. Then, Captain Joe reached into the ashes and brought out a medallion, which
she had been cremated with. He told me that he didn't know why he was doing this, but he
"knew" that she wanted me to have this. He told me that my Grama loved me and
would never be angry with me for anything, for long. He said repeatedly that she loved me
more than anything and would never want me to feel bad at not being able to do something
that she had asked me to do. Throughout his dialog, he continued to say that he didn't
know why he was telling us these things and apologizing to us. He begged us not to tell
anyone that he had given the medallion to me because it was against the law and he would
be in trouble. But he said that he felt that he must do this. I took the disk and looked
at it; there were numbers on it. As morbid as it was, having this medallion really did
make me feel closer to her.
Captain Joe began to tell jokes. This was something Grama often did. It was really
strange and normally would have been quite inappropriate behavior for a man piloting a
family to a loved ones' last resting place. But somehow, it wasn't as strange as it
sounds, and none of us were offended. Rather, we were struck with wonder. We all knew that
somehow she was using this man to let us know she was okay.
Captain Joe took us out to Angel Island and cut the engines. The wind had come up and
we were in rough waters, but suddenly it became very still. A bird flew above us as we
scattered Grama's ashes into the sea that she so loved. We all felt a peace come over us.
It is hard to explain, but each of us felt her presence in a strong way, including Captain
Joe. At one point, my Father started to get very sentimental and morose and the boat
rocked violently three times and then all was still, again. My best friend, Leslie, said
it was "like someone had put their finger on the bow of the boat and pushed it three
times." We snapped out of our grief, all of a sudden, and began to feel better --
almost light-hearted. We started back to shore.
When we were nearly back, Captain Joe said that he wanted to buy me a drink. This was
an uncomfortable idea and I hesitated. Everyone else came along, so we went into a nice
restaurant and had a Coke. He was very shook up, saying that in all of his years and maybe
5000 trips with people's ashes, he had never felt any sort of presence of a dead person
before. He was mystified as to the way he had acted, embarrassed and overwhelmingly
curious to find out what had happened. He had recently begun to feel an emptiness in his
life; his job only seemed to intensify it, because he took grief stricken people on these
trips day after day and there seemed to be no point to his life -- or anyone
else's -- anymore. He
had gradually lost his faith in a higher power and was just coasting along. Captain Joe
seemed desperate to maintain a contact with me to somehow continue the experience. He
thought that I could shed light on his behavior. I tried to explain to him that he had
been utilized in a complex series of events to help me with my lack of faith after Grama's
death. I ventured to say to him that he must have been open to it at some level or it
wouldn't have happened. I asked him if it were possible that this experience was an answer
to a request for a sign that he had made. I told him about my "Guardian
Angel", Joe, and all that had happened. I explained to him that it was Grama and Joe,
who engineered this experience in order to help me regain my faith.
We all said goodbye and headed for home. We thought that the experiences were over. But
there were a few more revelations to come.
Several days later, Grama's sister told us a curious story. We found out that
they’d had a sister named Maryanne who died in infancy when Grama , as a two
year old, had pulled a pot of boiling water down on top of her, causing serious burns
which ultimately killed her. My Grama felt a horrible guilt over having caused her little
sister's death. In those days, it was common for many children to die in early childhood,
and we knew that there had been several siblings that died prematurely. But none of us
could recall her ever mentioning the sister's name, or the exact circumstances of the
death.
A few weeks later, I was at a dinner with my Mother, talking to some friends about
Grama's death. A woman we knew slightly interrupted us with a startling story. She worked
for a local crematorium and had a strange experience of her own. It seemed that she had
cremated a woman on the very night that we were talking about, at about 3:00am. She
remembered the cremation quite clearly, and said she felt a little "chilled"
when she handled this particular body. She'd never forget it. Why? She was born in 1911
and her name is Dorothy Smith---my Grama's name.
I spoke to Captain Joe several times after the incident. He was a changed man. No
longer did he do his job without a thought as to the spirit of the person that he was
carrying. He had found a beginning point to explore his own faith. He said that he had
come to feel that his Guardian Angel was with him always, guiding him back to a safe
harbor.
I had received my sign. I received comfort, as well as a continuing sense of wonder,
from the experience. The numbers on Gram's disk continue to "speak to
me". Most of all, I was reminded again, that God does not turn away from us;
we
turn away from Him.
To read more about
"Joe"
[ Home ] [ Up ] [ Angels Love ] [ Bear Medicine ] [ The Importance of Being Grounded ] [ Spiritual VS Psychic ] [ The Gifts ] [ Giving or Getting a Reading ] [ Joe & Grama ] [ Seeing the Light ] [ Stop The Karmic Dance! ] [ Spiritual Exercises ] [ The Wall ] [ Emptiness ] [ Experiences with Crystal Skulls ]
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JOY... NO GAIN!
