Comment: Hello everyone..I’m new around here. I haven’t read all the stories (a lot) but I LOVE OBARA and her stories. Here is one that I would like to share, after reading about her spiritual visitors. I’ve had a few, but I love this one.
When My Grandfather and Friends came to Visit
I remember dreaming of my grandfather’s passing. The images were that of a narrow road in Jamaica, rain falling so hard the roads were flooded and the water ran the color of brown clay. I was standing and watching a procession of men in black suits, white shirts, and purple sashes across dem. The band lead the procession and I was watching from a plaza (payza) with wooden flooring, outside.
I enjoyed the dream although I was crying. I awoke to share it with an elderly lady in the house…she told me to stop, drink water and put a nutmeg under my tongue for a while then come back and relay the dream. Afterwards, she said someone died and I said it has to be my grandfather-maternal (didn’t know he was sick). Made a phone call and it was true.
After the funeral in Jamaica (couldn’t attend) I was in bed, watching Arsenio Hall show (late 80s), after a while I turned the t.v. off (didn’t like Johnny Carson that came afterwards). Fell asleep. In my sleep I saw a glare of light and woke up. I looked in the direction of the light…there sitting on the bookcase (turned down for cleaning) were three elderly men- my grandfather in the middle.
I looked real good to make sure I was seeing right. The men turned to me- my grandfather said “yu nu have nu manners, we a watch t.v. and yu turn it off. turn it back on”. I turned on the t.v., pull the sheet over my head and went right to sleep. That t.v. stayed on for almost two months and I didn’t look over in that direction at nights to see if they were there watching it.
My grandpa would always say that I’m a “a rude little pickney”; but he would sit me on his lap and feed me, bring me anything from the bush that I love, give me things to eat when I shouldn’t be eating. But papa always enjoyed seeing me off to my paternal grandparents when it was time for me to go to their house during the week. He would tell me to tell my other grandfather hello and to tell him that he wasn’t bald yet. An ongoing banter between them (both Indian mix with a shinny bald spot that leaves hair on the back and sides) and me as the messenger.
My mother is the favorite, “belly wash” for papa and my grandma (age 100). My mum kept her vision and promise for the family when she migrated (the older ones neglected to do when they migrated decades before). Being that I am the child of his favorite and I wasn’t able to attend his funeral, I believe he made sure to visit me. No one else in the family has a papa after passing story- but me…so, it look like ‘coolie man’ loved his little “bad brute’ grand-daughter after all that he couldn’t leave this plain without me hearing and seeing him. I described his companions to my mother and she knew who they were right away. She said the three of them together was a must. Another passed last year and I know with him that it is now the four “Musketeers”. Whom ever gets my papa as a guardian please to treat my papa right.
**It turned out that the procession in my dream was similar to his funeral. My mother had a popular band leading the funeral procession with onlookers asking which dignitary passed…she was proud she said to say “my father”. Papa, was a quite, simple man who went to his fields to toil for his family. Bless yu papa xoxo
Thanks Obara. I feel some relief in sharing this.