What I Believe, Part 2

Beyond the sense of spiritual guides and physical displays of spiritual activity in my home, I do believe it is possible to communicate with those who have died. My grandmother, who died in 2000 at the age of almost 92, often spoke of her own experiences -- seeing spirits, knowing when someone would be born or when someone would die, and having vivid dreams of visiting her mother in a heavenly place. Her sister also had similar experiences of her dead husband coming to see her and being prevented from speaking with her. As a young girl, I felt these stories were partly normal and partly fantastic. I was just glad I was not experiencing these dead people, myself, but completely believed the information my grandmother was telling me.

She would often visit me in my Long Island home and I used to say to her that when she died she should come and stay with me forever -- in spirit. I don't have any crisis apparition stories to tell (where she would have appeared to me at the time of her death), but as is reportedly the case with people who have passed trying to communicate with their families and friends, there have been interesting signs that lead me to believe she is around. Often, people report smelling a scent associated with the person, or hearing a song, or seeing that person's name in an unlikely place. After my grandmother died, my mother would smell my grandmother's favorite scented powder, even though my mother had given away all that powder when she died. My grandmother loved perfume and covered herself heavily with scented powder or lotion. The scent of the perfume was so strong in my grandmother's old bedroom that my mother was sure she was there. Now, my mother smells cigarette smoke and has seen a mist in the room. No one else will smell the smoke at the time my mother smells it.

For me, the signal that I gave my grandmother to let me know she is around is to let me hear her favorite piano music "Claire de Lune". She used to play it on the piano, and when I made a video of her life, that was the song I used as the introductory song. It is very interesting that I hear this song in many iterations in so many unique situations.

I broke my wrist and my mother had to come up from Florida to help me for a couple of weeks right after my grandmother died. I said to her in my mind, "If you are with us, play Claire de Lune when my mother and I are together." While driving me home from the doctor's office one day, my mother said she did not like the radio station we were listening to and asked me to change it. I said, "Okay, I'll put on the classical station" not even thinking about Claire de Lune. I was chatting away when my mother said, "Oh, listen, they're playing Claire de Lune." I was amazed! I had not even told my mother about the request I made to my grandmother before she came to stay with me.

After that, Claire de Lune was my signal. When I got a Fulbright to go to Germany, I was so grateful and astonished at having that experience. I thought it would have been so wonderful to be able to tell my grandmother about it. On the plane ride home, while watching the movie, Oceans 11, the song came on during the scene of the fountains at the Bellagio Hotel. Since that time, almost every time I go to Europe, I hear that song. The first time I was in Hungary, my friend was changing channels on his television when we saw a woman with a harp preparing to play. When she began playing, it was Claire de Lune. One time, I mentally told my grandmother how amazing it was that I was in Budapest every year -- the home of her parents -- and I said, "Hey, I haven't heard the song!" The next evening, I was walking down a Budapest street that I had not been on before and I noticed a comedy club. Thinking I should go there sometime, I walked past and inside was someone playing the piano, and the song they were playing was Claire de Lune. I even asked her to call me on the telephone (I had read that people claim to have gotten phone calls and messages from dead relatives -- so I asked her to call me). The next day, I got a message on my phone at work and there was no one on the line. Only the song Claire de Lune playing on the other end.

Only one time did I wonder about not hearing the song in Hungary and instead I heard Ravel's Pavan for a Dead Princess, which we played at her funeral, because it is one of my favorite pieces of music, which I hope will be played at my own funeral. (I know, morbid, but I am, after all, a princess).

My last story regarding Claire de Lune relates to a dream I had recently in which I was at a party and saw my grandmother there, sitting in a large upholstered rocking chair, as she always had in life. She was animated and laughing and nibbling on something (probably a mint). A woman at the party said it was funny that the rocking chair was moving on its own. Astonished, I said, "No, my grandmother is there!" The woman did not see her, and at that moment, my grandmother became transparent to me with a bright white light around her. She kissed me and laughed that the woman could not see her. I then partially woke up and said in my head, "Was that a dream or a vision of my grandmother?" And then I asked her to give me a sign if it was really her. When I got out of bed I went in to my living room and turned on the television. It was tuned to a PBS station on which a special about Victor Borge, the pianist, was on. At that moment in the program, he began to play Claire de Lune.

My brother has more vivid visits -- in his dreams -- from dead relatives, who bring him messages or show him they are still around and in good "spirits".

More later...