Between me and my husband, I’m the one who has had strange experiences throughout my life. I do vaguely recall having brief discussions with my maternal grandfather after he passed away when I was 6 years old. Of course, at that age, I didn’t understand what death was. I didn’t understand that I’d never see my grandpa again, wouldn’t get to spend the summers with him at the cottage in Janesville, Wisconsin, or the house on Fawell Street in Chicago, Illinois. I would never again go to Fannie Mae with him, or snuggle up on his lap in his Lazy-Boy recliner dozing off to a Chicago White Sox game on WGN TV 9. When I did have these brief conversations with him – I saw him clear as day – it never occurred to me that I was talking to his spirit.

Over time, though, those experiences faded. Or, perhaps it was a subconscious effort on my part to “ignore” the things I saw, sensed, heard, or even dreamt. I’d chalk it all up to being stressed at school, teenage angst, or because I had a bowl of ice cream before bed. I didn’t want to tell anyone about the experiences I had out of fear that they’d think I was crazy or suffering some type of psychotic break. Sometimes, though, I would tell my mom about a dream I had, but that was about it.

It wasn’t until I was out on my own that the activity began to pick up again; or perhaps, it was more like I could no longer ignore it. One such instance I could not deny was an experience I had while under anesthesia. The exploratory surgery wasn’t supposed to take that long, twenty to thirty minutes at most, but it took nearly an hour because my surgeon had to stop the procedure until they could stabilize me, which took them nearly 15-20 minutes.

While I was under, I saw a bright flash of light. It was warm and peaceful, I wasn’t afraid. For a brief instant, I saw myself on the operating table, then I was standing in this beautiful field of wildflowers. I could smell their magnificent fragrance as if I had just put a bouquet up to my nose and inhaled deeply. The sky was this amazing bright powder blue and it was sunny, but I didn’t have to squint. I could feel the warmth on my face, on my skin, and it was so comforting; like being wrapped in your favorite blanket.

I felt an incredible sense of peace washed over me. I could feel it moving from the top of my head, down my body to my toes. There was no pain, just peace, comfort, and an overwhelming feeling of love and acceptance that I had never before felt in my life. Somehow I knew I would never feel that again until it was my time to leave this life behind.

As I stood still, my jaw agape as I marveled at the beauty surrounding me, I slowly turned to take it all in. As far as my eyes could see, there was nothing but wildflowers. When I finished my 360° turn, I was facing my (former) sister-in-law, and behind her was a very large red rock formation, much like what you see in the Arizona desert. My (former) sister-in-law was wearing a dress that I had never seen her in before (it was a closed-casket funeral, so I have no idea what clothing she was buried in). It was a shin-length sweater dress with a high collar and black and emerald green thick stripes.

Standing in the tall wildflowers, I couldn’t see anything below her knees. She had tears shimmering in her eyes as she smiled at me. I looked around once more and spread my arms to encompass the scene before me. Without actually speaking, I asked her through thought “Is this …?” I meant to finish it with the word heaven, but I didn’t need to say the word. My sister-in-law nodded. When I looked back at her, she said to me, again without actually using her mouth to speak, “Everything will be all right.”

The next memory I have is of being in the post-surgical observation room. I was wrapped in warm blankets, all snug and secure. I recall shaking my head from side to side as if trying to shake the fogginess from my brain. I was also crying. One of the nurses came over and asked if I was feeling any pain. I could barely speak due to the breathing tube that had been inserted during the surgery and I croaked out “I saw Sinddy.” The nurse replied, “She’ll probably be waiting for you to get back to your room.” I was still shaking my head from side to side, knowing that would not be the case.

I croaked again to the nurse, “She died three weeks ago.” (She was killed in a terrible auto accident on December 21, 1994).

By this time I was also trying to open my eyes. I saw a blurry nurse staring at me dumbfounded before she turned and just walked away. A few hours after I was back in my room, more alert since the anesthesia had worn off, my doctor came to see me and discuss the surgery. Not wanting my medical information online, I’ll skip what the doctor said about that and go straight to the rest of the discussion. She told me that about halfway through the procedure, she had to stop because my blood pressure suddenly plummeted inexplicably and continued to drop. She said it took them approximately 15 minutes to “bring me back” and get me stabilized.

The other result? The pain I was suffering for years before the surgery was suddenly gone. The doctor couldn’t find the source or any explanation for the cause of it.

What was this that I experienced? Was it an out-of-body experience? Or was this a near-death experience?

Not all of the experiences I’ve had were pleasant. There have been a few terrifying encounters. One of those encounters began with a recurring dream. I wish I knew an artist with whom I could describe what I saw and he or she could sketch it. Even today I can see every little detail vividly.

In the dream, I know that I am looking for my older brother as I am entering a heavily wooded forest of monstrously tall pines. Ahead in the distance, there is light. To my left, there is a gentle curving stairway built into the thick trunks of the pine trees, leading to a final doorway cloaked in darkness. As I slowly walk along the path, I can hear the soft crunching of old wood chips, dried twigs, and browned pine needles. The smell of pine sap is heavy in the air. From behind me, an odd coin is tossed ahead of my step, causing me to stop. The coin continued to roll on its edge for several more feet before finally coming to a rest at the base of the stairs.

I look around but don’t see anyone. I’m hesitant to pick up the coin, but I do it anyway. I don’t recognize the images carved on either side of the coin and they’re very worn and faded. I have a choice to make. I can either ascend the stairs or continue to walk the path toward the light. I don’t know why, but I’m afraid to continue walking the path, so I begin to walk up the stairs. After roughly 20 steps, there’s a landing. I pause and look at the beautiful stained-glass window built into an extremely thick tree trunk. They remind me of the Redwoods of California. The more detail I noticed in the window, the more frightened I became.

With trepidation, I walked up the next flight of stairs to the next landing. Again, I paused to look at the stained-glass window built into the tree trunk. My heart begins to beat faster and I’m more frightened than I was before. I don’t know why but I continue to walk up the next flight of stairs, but I never make it to the third landing. Everything goes completely dark and I suddenly wake up.

I had this dreadful dream repeatedly for several months, every detail the same, nothing ever changed. Until I woke up one night in sheer terror, absolutely freaking out, my eyes immediately going to the corner of the bedroom up near the ceiling. There was a dark figure, cloaked and hooded, hovering there. Its eyes were burning bright red and it just held my gaze.

I had mentioned the dream to my mother the first time I had it. When I saw the figure in the corner, I told her about that in the morning when she woke. She shared with me the dream she’d been having, which was similar to mine, but in her dream, she saw the dark-cloaked and hooded shadowy figure and it told her he was there for my brother. She forcefully told this thing that he could not have him and would not be taking him.

To be honest, I don’t know what to make of this. My brother died on August 7, 2014, and until his passing, I continued to have this dream. I haven’t had it since he passed.

If anyone has any ideas about this, please feel free to comment and discuss.