Death, The Ultimate Wake Up Call

Just about that time, I saw a woman approximately 21 years of age walking up the front walk onto the patio. At first, I did not know who it could be. So, I made the statement in a frustrated tone saying, “Who is that woman walking up to the picture window.” It was obvious that she was not going to make a 90⁰ turn to ring the doorbell. It seemed as if she would attempt to look through the living room picture window, in front of her, at us. Her walk was a slow and deliberate movement as if every step was carefully taken. Her steps were smooth and almost silently harmonic. It was as if her steps were in sync to a walkway that was provided her, which was not congruent with the patio walkway up to the picture window. It appeared that she and her immediate surrounding was distinct from our world even though the background was still the lawn and patio environment. I had the thought that if the wind blew, trees, leaves and everything would be tousled except this lady and her immediate environment. It was actually mesmerizing to watch instead of frightening. Everyone turned to see what I was talking about except Frank. He stayed focused on his cooking in front of the range. Uncle George said, ”I don’t know who she is, but she appears to be peering through the picture window at us.” At about the same time, I said, “ Oh my God, it’s Genell.” Dad said, “ Oh God, she looks like an older version of Genell.” My sister had a golden hue around her entire body. The image was as a soft golden pastel picture in three dimensions. Genell’s curves were very soft, not sharp like definitive lines. Since Genell was almost thirteen when she died and already well developed, I recognized her beautiful shape. Her facial features were soft and not too distinctive, like a picture that was just a little out of focus. My Uncle George knew in an instant that not only was this Genell, but the whole image was unworldly. My father’s house was large and it took Uncle George several seconds running to get to the den, as he knocked over the kitchen chair he had been sitting on. My brother’s religion did not allow him to believe in spirits or ghosts. So, he immediately said, “ That’s the work of the devil.” However, I said in an agitated tone, “Genell, what do you want now?” The look on my sister’s face changed from peace to disappointment. It was as if she knew she was not welcomed, even though, my comments were not stated loudly enough for someone outside to hear. Genell’s face expressed hurt. I remember feeling immediately ashamed by my reaction. I jumped up following my Uncle to the den adjacent to the living room. As we entered the den, he left by the side door of the den, which entered onto the carport located at the side of the house. I went to the front door of the den that entered onto the patio. When I pulled open the door, she had already disappeared. I ran onto the patio facing J.C. on the lawn. J.C. looked up and said, “ Mom, you have seen Aunt Genell, haven’t you?” I said, “Yes, did you see her?” J.C. said, “No, but you look like you have just seen a ghost.”