Nick and I have opposite approaches to light.
He likes low lighting. He has several lamps with black shades. Two of them are kind of transparent fabric, and one of them is opaque, with gold inside for a warm glow.
He'll sit in a room with just a table lamp - the dark-shaded gold glowy one - for light.
Whereas I will walk into a room and immediately turn on all the lights, in the way that some people walk into a room and turn on the TV or music, because the absence of sound bothers them.
I can't live with out light. Bright, bright light. The brighter the better. Mood lighting for me means ALL THE LIGHTS ON.
Romantic, it is not.
We have the aforementioned table lamp, which is a table with a lamp built in, in the living room. It sits next to Nick's big red chair, and it's great, because Jordan can shake the table but there's no danger of the lamp falling off.
So this lamp, which has two bulbs with separate chains, has become kind of persnickety lately. One bulb will flicker, then go out. Then go on a few minutes later. It does this randomly and repeatedly.
You can adjust it and it'll stay out. Or it might come on immediately. And then go off. And then come on.
Which I decided was my dad messing with us. Personally, I really like this idea. It's along the lines of how I wonder if Jordan catches glimpses of him sometimes.
I told Nick about this, who said the more likely explanation is that he wired the lamp himself, and maybe the wiring is loose or something. So he tinkered with it over the weekend.
Last night, J was asleep, and I was reading in the living room. Nick is out of town, so it was really quiet, but in a nice way.
And the bulb started flickering. Off...on...off. So I asked, "Dad? Is that you?"
And no, I didn't get a flicker in the affirmative, which would've freaked me out. But in any case, I just started talking to my dad, telling him how much I missed him. I didn't expect to start crying, but there I was, sitting in that big red chair, crying, talking to the lamp.
I was really glad it was night and the curtains were closed.
Yes, OK, maybe it's wiring. But maybe it's not.
Do I sound crazy?
Last night, someone told me "The only people who are crazy are the ones who think they aren't." So, you might be crazy but I think that is a really nice way to remember your dad.ReplyDelete
Nope, not crazy at all. You had a conversation with your Dad, he just wasn't in the form you are used to. Even if he isn't talking back, I am sure his energy is around you and aware of your feelings for him.ReplyDelete
On another note, I am stealing Yankee's comment about crazy people. It's so true! The ones with tinfoil hats are always perfectly certain that they are sane, and no one else is.
Totally not crazy. My brother died 8 years ago when I was 21, and I still talk to him sometimes. A few times a year he shows up in my dreams when I'm going through a really stressful time. I love it.ReplyDelete
If you are, I am! A long story, but let's just say my Dad talked through the smoke alarms:my house, my sister's and my Mom's p/t home in Florida.ReplyDelete
Nope, you don't sound crazy at all. I talk to my son because my husband and I are pretty sure LBM is the reincarnation of his grandmother. He sits just like a little Japanese woman would. >.<ReplyDelete
Not at all crazy, Sometimes I am sure Mum and Dad do something to let me know they are around. Dad passed 25 years ago and Mum 14 and I still talk to them almost every day. And yes I still cry when I do more often than not.ReplyDelete
Totally not crazy. My best friend's dad had a clock that he loved. After he died, it sat on a shelf in our kitchen. One Thanksgiving, out of nowhere, while I was in the kitchen cooking, the alarm on the clock went off. I immediately looked up and said "Happy Thanksgiving Ray!"ReplyDelete
I also totally believe that babies can see things that we can't. Jess used to stare at a spot over my head every time we were in the bathroom. I always wondered who was watching over her. (My grandma, I hope!)
I'm sure your dad is messing with you!
Crazy, no. Going through a difficult adjustment, yes. Consider this: there are plenty of people that talk to graves and the person isn't really in that spot--just bones. So, talking to a lamp, just as good. I believe he hears you, whether he "flickers" or not. I talk to my Dad, especially as I'm driving. It helps.ReplyDelete
No - you aren't crazy at all. One time, I was sure my gran was in my bathroom. I turned and looked into the mirror just to make sure her reflection wasn't there. I could just feel her presence somehow.ReplyDelete
Not crazy at all. Whatever gets you through, babe. xoxoReplyDelete
My husband and I are the same way with lights.ReplyDelete
I know a woman that lost her husband in a car accident, and her son does the same thing. Her TV has also started to come on in the middle of the night. I want to believe their spirit is around somewhere, so even if they can't mess with lights or turn on TVs, they can hear you. So no, not crazy.
Not crazy at all. xoxoReplyDelete
That sounds crazy -- but in an entirely sane, altogether normal way.ReplyDelete
Even if it's the wiring, I really do think your dad can hear you.ReplyDelete
Yankee - I like that very much. I'm certain it's true, in fact. Thank you.ReplyDelete
Susan H - You so made me laugh with the tinfoil hats. Oh, that's great.
Tia - I dreamt of my dad the other night, but I think that's the first time in about a year. I woke up having forgotten he was dead.
kayare - I believe it's possible. I really do.
Moue - The imagine I have in my head is adorable. Completely adorable.
Go-Betty - I think it's lovely that you still talk to them daily. I don't, but it's not that he's not a presence in my life. I think it's good to recognize that.
cla517 - I love that you said Happy Thanksgiving to the clock. And that you agree my dad is messing with me. I do believe babies can see things we can't. I bet it was your grandma!
lacochran - Yah. I think I'm fine and then out of nowhere it wallops me. But the talking in the car seems like a cathartic thing to do.
Keenie Beanie - I bet she was. I do.
Wendy - Thanks. Hugs to you.
Lisa - I totally believe that. I think spirits are energy and they can mess with electricity and why not the TV?
Hillary - Hugs to you, lady.
Dana - That makes me feel good.
Kate Bee - I like hearing that. Thank you.
Not one bit.ReplyDelete
Perhaps if you hugged the lamp it would be a weeee bit crazy, but even then, I would still think you were the bee's knees.
I like the idea of your father coming through to you via rays of light. There couldn't be a more perfect medium for him to do so, I don't think. This way, he shines through, and what a wonderful vessel in which to do so.ReplyDelete
You're so not crazy. Before my Grandpa died, I was never a believe-in- signs kind of person. Since then there have been what seem like so many though...and they have all happened where he took his life. I know they're probably coincidences, but I like to think that they're his way of saying he's okay and finally at peace.ReplyDelete
And the crying thing? It seems to come out of nowhere for me, even 15 months later. I may or may not have cried on a bench during my lunch hour this week for no reason, other than that I really, really miss him.
I don't think you're crazy. You talk to lamps, I talk to cats.ReplyDelete
I don't know if you'll see this comment, but sweetie, I don't think you're crazy. This is the time of year when people talk to their beloved dead (all over the world, not just places that have Halloween). So this totally makes sense to me. The fact that he is appearing to you through the lamp? That's just logistics. :)ReplyDelete