10-19-2015, 11:10 AM
[SIZE="5"][COLOR="Purple"]Yo... those are all great stories! And Seeking... its great to hear of an experience from someone from a different culture than my own. So, I'll now share another of mine...
My Dad passed away in July of 1983. I was 13 years old at the time, and my mother and I were devastated. It was quite a shock. Well, the following month Mom joined a widows' support group called To Live Again. They met each Wednesday evening. Well, this one evening in August of that year, she left as usual for her meeting. About a half hour after she left, I was alone in our house. I was in the living room, basically just feeling sorry for myself when, very lightly in the air, I could smell my father's favorite cologne. It was very light... faint. Almost one of those things that you think to yourself, Nah... I'm just imagining it. But then, over the next few minutes, it grew in intensity. It grew to be so strong that I had to get up and investigate. So, I went upstairs to my parents' bedroom. Mt father's things had yet to be packed or given away; in Mom's emotional state she didn't have the heart to do so yet. The aroma was really strong in that room. I opened Dad's top dresser drawer where he kept his aftershave and colognes, thinking a bottle may have either broken or come open somehow. But... nothing. Everything was intact. It was at this time that I felt a sudden sense of calm... comforting. I knew then that it must have been my Dad. In a quivering, shaky voice, I said, "Dad...?" At that moment, the smell of Dad's English Leather intensified for a few seconds. And then, it simply vanished. I stood in the bedroom stunned at what had just happened. When Mom arrived home an hour later, I was again in the living room waiting for her to return. As soon as she stepped over the threshold of the door, she stopped short with a look of confusion. Then she came in slowly and looked at me. "James... have you been in your father's cologne?" I looked at her with a sad smile. "No Mom. I wasn't." And I told her the story of what had happened. "Well," she said, "it seems that your 'ol Dad is keeping an eye on things after all." She looked in no direction in particular and said, "Jack, we do miss you so... but I guess you're watching over us, as you said you always would."[/COLOR][/SIZE]
My Dad passed away in July of 1983. I was 13 years old at the time, and my mother and I were devastated. It was quite a shock. Well, the following month Mom joined a widows' support group called To Live Again. They met each Wednesday evening. Well, this one evening in August of that year, she left as usual for her meeting. About a half hour after she left, I was alone in our house. I was in the living room, basically just feeling sorry for myself when, very lightly in the air, I could smell my father's favorite cologne. It was very light... faint. Almost one of those things that you think to yourself, Nah... I'm just imagining it. But then, over the next few minutes, it grew in intensity. It grew to be so strong that I had to get up and investigate. So, I went upstairs to my parents' bedroom. Mt father's things had yet to be packed or given away; in Mom's emotional state she didn't have the heart to do so yet. The aroma was really strong in that room. I opened Dad's top dresser drawer where he kept his aftershave and colognes, thinking a bottle may have either broken or come open somehow. But... nothing. Everything was intact. It was at this time that I felt a sudden sense of calm... comforting. I knew then that it must have been my Dad. In a quivering, shaky voice, I said, "Dad...?" At that moment, the smell of Dad's English Leather intensified for a few seconds. And then, it simply vanished. I stood in the bedroom stunned at what had just happened. When Mom arrived home an hour later, I was again in the living room waiting for her to return. As soon as she stepped over the threshold of the door, she stopped short with a look of confusion. Then she came in slowly and looked at me. "James... have you been in your father's cologne?" I looked at her with a sad smile. "No Mom. I wasn't." And I told her the story of what had happened. "Well," she said, "it seems that your 'ol Dad is keeping an eye on things after all." She looked in no direction in particular and said, "Jack, we do miss you so... but I guess you're watching over us, as you said you always would."[/COLOR][/SIZE]
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