A Walk between the Clouds

Chapter Fourteen: Ghosts

Please don’t come to my grave and cry.
My body rests here, but I did not die.

I am now free, with each passing season, .
To watch and protect you, not needing a reason. .
Our friendship survives, and our love will endure. .
My loving essence remains; of this you can be sure. .

My love may be seen in all flowers that grow. .
My smile is as bright as the sparkle of snow. .
My voice you can hear in each gentle wind. .
My strength you will see in the trees as they bend. .

Please don’t stand alone and cry. .
I am still by your side. I did not die. .

It was February 10, 1970, and the clock on the radio indicated that it was 2:31 a.m. I turned my head toward the crib in the corner of the bedroom where my four-week-old daughter was sleeping. My first thought was that I had abandoned my peaceful deep sleep because she was making her wake up and feed me noises. A quick peek in that direction assured me that she was still asleep. I glanced at the pillow next to me and saw my husband snoozing peacefully. Still, I was convinced I had heard something. As my eyes began to focus, I noticed an adult figure standing in the darkened hallway, just outside our bedroom door. Thoughts sprinted through my mind. Who is this in our house in the middle of the night? Am I dreaming? Is it a burglar? Should I scream out for help?

“Who’s there?” My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and I realized that it was my longtime neighborhood friend Joey. “What are you doing here? And … how did you get in?” I questioned in a whispered tone as I pulled the blankets up to cover myself.

Joey had been the boy next door during our high school days. He was also one of those kids who had been blessed with both incredible good looks and a loveable personality. As kids often do, we used to make jokes of his Italian heritage, which had bestowed upon him his black hair, flawless dark olive skin, light blue eyes that always had a twinkle, and a beautiful smile highlighted by his sparkling white teeth. The amount of attention he received because of his physical appearance embarrassed him, making him shy around most people. The last time we had visited with each other, seven or eight months earlier, was just before his Army unit left for active duty in Vietnam.

“Joey? What are you doing here? When did you come home?” I was growing more curious by the second. He would never have just popped in without calling, let alone break into our house in the middle of the night. He was much too polite for that.

“I came to say good-bye. You’ve always been my special friend, and I love you.” I laid there staring at him as he stood in the darkened doorway. I was hearing his words, but I knew that I was receiving them silently and unspoken. Had he spoken to me in his normal voice, he certainly would have awakened my sleeping husband, and he had not moved. Okay, I thought, he’s whispering. After all, it’s the middle of the night, and here he is in our house only a few feet outside our bedroom.

“What?” I whispered again as I sat up gently on the bedside. It was my intention to talk to him in the living room so as not to wake the entire house, although the baby was due to scream for a meal in about an hour. When she was hungry, no one slept!

“I have to go. Remember that I will always be here for you.” And then as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. I walked into the hallway and proceeded to check the other rooms in our small house. No one was there. The house was completely empty, and the doors were all locked—from the inside. Okay, Patricia, you are losing it, I thought. I knew this was not a dream, and after all, we were just talking to each other. I also knew that I was wide awake and had been looking straight at him. Logic told me that whatever it was that had just taken place was some sort of hallucination. It had to be because there was no way for this to be possible. His military squadron had shipped out months earlier. I slipped back into bed and laid there thinking about this oddly strange event. “Weird.” I could not go back to sleep after that and continued talking to myself. “But he was here.… And we did talk to each other. What’s happening?”

The remainder of the morning was as normal as can be with a one-month-old and a twenty-two-month-old. I was busying around in the kitchen when I heard the reporter on the midday news say something that truly shook the ground I was standing on.

Local resident Joseph Michael Bloom, son of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph N. Bloom, was killed overnight in Vietnam. The helicopter in which he was a passenger crashed shortly after take off. Details are sketchy. We are following this story closely and will bring you additional information about this latest war tragedy as we receive it. Stay tuned.

I could not believe what I had just heard. Almost immediately my telephone began ringing with many calls from our other friends. I thought that this was just not possible. I prayed that it was not true, but it was! This was my first encounter communicating directly with the spirit world, although at the time, I had no idea of what was happening. This was a bittersweet time for me. I had just given birth to my second beautiful daughter, and now I had lost one of my best friends to a war that had already taken two of my former classmates. I wondered how I could ever tell anyone that I had both seen and talked to Joey on the same night he was killed thousands of miles away. My mother was the only person I felt comfortable talking to about this incredible event.

For many years, I did not share this story with anyone except Joey’s parents and my mother. And even then, I told them only that I had recently had a terrible dream that this was going to happen. I was still living in the shadow of my mother’s death visions, and was truly not ready to accept that this gift now belonged to me—I was afraid.

That was the only time in my life that I was actually able to see and talk with someone on the other side. I believe that I no longer see spirit in human form because of the intense fear I experienced after seeing Joey. I have now become more of a mental intuitive and do, from time to time, feel the presence of friends and relatives who are no longer in physical form. Although, I now sometimes think that at this stage in my life, it might not be so bad to be able to visit with them again in person.

How much do you know about ghosts? When this first began happening to me, I found myself with many more questions than plausible explanations. Many years have passed since Joey’s February visit, and his was not my only ghostly encounter. Since then I have had several more spiritual visitors pop in—just not in their physical forms. Ironically, now I seem to be the one that is called upon to provide answers and explanations. The following is a short list of the most frequent questions I am asked.

• What are ghosts?
• How do you talk to them?
• What is the difference between ghosts and demons?
• Are angels, spirits, and ghosts the same?
• Can they harm us?
• Is there such a thing as a ghostly possession?
• If you see a ghost, does it mean that someone is going to die?