A Sign from Beyond in a Pretty Blue Bag
On Mar. 13, 1999, my Dad called me to tell me that Mom died. Massive heart attack. Though divorced, they both resided in Ohio. I lived, and still do in Arizona. This news blindsided me, as I spoke to her the previous day, and she sounded fine.
I lived with my cat of 17 years, Pinky, in a nice one-bedroom apartment. Once I got off the phone with Dad, I went outside for a walk to clear my head a bit. Was walking through the apartment complex next door to mine, and came across a beautiful blue bag, sitting on the top of a dumpster. I’ve never before, or have since, picked up anything out of the trash, but the bag was really pretty, and my favorite shade of blue, so I got up on the dumpster, and retrieved the bag.
Ask for a sign
Returned home, and set the bag on the kitchen floor. Called my best friend, and told her the news; she said she’d come by. I took a quick bath, so as to clean my face up from crying, and while in the bath, was “talking” to my Mom, saying, “Mom, you’ve got to give me a sign, because I don’t know whether I should stay in Phoenix, or go to Cleveland for the funeral.” (Could not afford to miss work by going, and was not going to leave Pinky with just anybody, due to his age. Also, the friend that came over was leaving the next day on a business trip, so there went my only potential cat sitter.) Anyhow, as soon as I said those words to my Mom, I said, “Oh no, you can’t give me a sign, cuz you know you’ll scare me to death!” (I don’t like paranormal or ghostly stuff; usually too scary for me.)