This is not so much a ghost story as it is one of my most beautiful experiences ever. Please read word for word. It's well worth the meaning of "the circle of life" if you believe. My grandmother, Marce, was a fighter. This is for her. She had another stroke. We went to the hospital and visited with her. She was restrained in a bed because she kept trying to leave once she had awoken from the surgery. Somebody made a mistake. The day she was to come home, she was left unattended for... and ended up falling from her bed and hitting her head. She had massive bleeding and underwent another surgery. She never awoke. She was in a coma, in hospice, for two weeks. It was two weeks of going there every day.. never leaving her side for more than food or going home to sleep or peeing, of course. Peeing is a necessity, yes? Grandma didn't think much of people who didn't do what was necessary for survival. :P Well... I continuously told her, as I gave her morphine to lessen the pain, that it was time to let go. It was okay to let go. It was the circle of life and there was no end. Her spirit was like that of the eagle. She had every reason to let go and free herself of all her worries, for God was calling her Home. I saw angels in her room. I heard them singing. I knew they were there to comfort her, but they were comforting us moreso. The clock on the wall was winding forward by itself one day, continually. It wouldn't stop. It was racing forward. I kept looking at it in amazement wondering how anybody could possibly brush it off as a mechanical error. Grandma was sending us a sign to make the best out of each day, for time is never guaranteed to any of us. The day of her passing, my father and I walked into the room... to find that she was finally breathing her last few breaths. He was unable to let her go. He kept begging her to stay and fight more. I told him that she had to go. She passed away with me holding her hand. I kissed her forehead, missing her beautiful "red" hair as she had always had it dyed. Now she had a bald head with scars from the surgery. She was not Marce. She was the canvas of a beautiful soul, now released into the spirit world... into the circle of life she went. My father left the room to call his brother in Costa Rica and give him the news. I heard her voice tell me to look outside the window. I looked and in the sky there was an eagle. I heard her say "I'm free now!" I heard it. I knew it in my heart that it was her. I saw the eagle fly upward into the clouds in circles over and over until it disappeared into the sky. A leaf fell. A blue jay and a cardinal appeared as well. I saw a robin. I saw no other eagles. The wind blew. Life went on. In my heart I saw her funeral taking place on a day where there would be leaves on the ground. It was June now. We had to wait for my uncle to come home. He kept putting it off until finally on August 13th, we had the service for her. There were many leaves on the ground as I saw. The tree of life had died only for her physical body. The spirit goes on forever. The circle of life goes on forever. There is no such thing as death. My love to you, Grandma Marce. Thank you for the eagle.
