When the Time Is Near
Articles Inspirational articles from Hay House authors
When the Time Is NearMy last days with Granddad.
Shortly before the time of his transition, I’d been on Granddad’s case for weeks to clean up the corner of the dining room where he kept all of his old newspapers, in what appeared to be random stacks.
Finally, one day he called me up and said, “Ay, Lis, guess what I’ve done? I’ve cleared the dining room so you and your grandmother can stop nagging me,” and he laughed. I went over that weekend, and indeed he had cleaned the mess up—it was so tidy! My grandmother was over the moon at the sudden change in his behavior, thrilled to have some space back in the dining room.
A week later, my grandfather went into the hospital with a minor chest infection, something that had happened before and never turned out to be very serious. It was a Friday afternoon when I got a call on my cell phone. Without even looking at the number, I told a colleague, “Oh, that’s my grandmother telling me that Granddad is in the hospital with his chest problem again.” That’s just what it was. When I answered, my grandmother told me not to worry, that he would be fine. Granddad just needed an IV for antibiotics and would be out by Monday.
On Saturday afternoon, I went to pay him a visit. As I walked from the car to the hospital entrance, I felt a peculiar heavy energy around me and knew that something was going to happen. I walked in to see my grandfather sitting up in bed with family and friends surrounding him, entertaining them with his endless jokes and even flirting with the nurses by winking at them—all of which proved to me that he was back to his normal self.
But still . . . something wasn’t right with me, and this feeling increased every time my granddad looked at me. His gaze was penetrating, as if he were looking through my body and into my soul. It was an incredible sensation. I still remember the moment I went to say good-bye and looked into his eyes one last time. It was as if his human consciousness stopped, and his soul, the true essence of him, took over just for a split second—but it was long enough for me to recognize what was happening.
At that moment, I connected with Granddad’s soul. His eyes were bright blue and crystal clear. As the saying goes, “The eyes are the windows of the soul,” which is so true. We looked at each other with a sense of total connection. He knew it was the last time he’d see me, and he held my gaze longer than usual, savoring the sight before him. I didn’t break that gaze either, feeling that I was communicating with him on a deeper level with no words needed.
At one point, I felt an impulse to say “I love you,” but since our family was not comfortable with emotion, for me to say those words would have alarmed everyone around me. And since by that time they all knew I was psychic, they would have wondered what was going on. Instead, I thought the words, and I could tell by his silent acknowledgment that he got my message.
I had never experienced such a powerful connection with a soul before, nor have I since, and I doubt I ever will; it was utterly indescribable. The energy around my grandfather was so clear, shimmering, and radiant. It was then that I understood on a deeper level what was happening—that this was the last time I would see him alive.
As my grandmother walked me out of the hospital ward, she told me that Granddad was being released the next day, and that he was looking so much better. I have no idea where the words came from, but I blurted out, “No, there is more to come.”
My grandmother looked puzzled upon hearing my words. “No, he’s looking so much better,” she countered. I found out later that when my grandfather was being loaded into the ambulance, he’d tried to tell her where important documents concerning the house and other finances were located. She wouldn’t hear of it, insisting, “Oh, Jack, don’t be silly! You’ll be out in a few days!”
The day after my visit, Granddad died of an embolism in the stomach due to a change in the medication that the hospital had given him. When I was sorting through all the legal documents later, I noticed that he had bound together and dated some papers. These were dated the day he’d called to tell me that he’d cleaned out the dining room. On one of the papers, he’d highlighted the words: In the event of my death, please call . . . He obviously knew that his time was near.
People often start to get their “house in order” when approaching their time of transition. They look at their life-insurance policies, finalize financial paperwork, or make sure to have their will taken care of. This is because they have a subconscious awareness of what is going to happen, just as my grandfather had.