Gather round the fire, my friends, and let me tell you a tale, a family story that flew from sister to sister today.
My mother died about 4 years ago, breaking my father's heart. Their's had been a deep love match, married since 1955 and still flirting till the end. By the time my mother died (Parkinson's disease), it was apparent that Alzheimer's was grabbing hold of my father. He mourned hard for about a year, saying he wanted to be with her. Then the Alzheimer's took over, and while he's still at home and mobile, with round-the-clock ladies who cook for him and make sure he's safe, he doesn't really quite know who we are.
This morning, when the morning carer came to take over from the overnight watcher, the overnight lady, a new hire, asked if my Dad usually had visitors later at night. "Uh, no, why?" The night lady then said that around 10:30 p.m., she saw a woman in a blue-and-white house dress come from the kitchen, walk down the short hall to my parents' bedroom, and get in bed with my dad. Then, blink! the woman was gone.
The blue-and-white dress is the clincher for me: That had to have been my mom, she wore that housedress constantly. She went to bed at that time every night.
Now, I've never seen any kind of apparition, so I'm surprised at how this story made me feel. I'm not spooked by it at all. Rather, I'm happy for my Dad. What a comfort, to still be able to sleep with his beloved. I like to think that on some level, her presence gets through to him, and makes him happy.