Chapter 165 Orbs

Saturday, June 10, 2017

This morning, I took a picture to compare it with the one I had taken yesterday. I tried to take it from the same angle and at the same time of day. I had cleaned up the room, and that’s why the surroundings look a little different. Other than that, everything else was the same.

I showed the pictures to Beth. I told her it was crazy for me to see how bright the light was yesterday. As she looked at the picture, she pointed out orbs. I had never heard of them before, so I asked her what they were.

After looking closely at the pictures, we were both convinced there must have been angels staying with Mark as his lifeless body was waiting to be picked up.

Beth asked if I was okay before she headed home. I told her I was grateful she was there when I needed her and that I would be fine.

After Beth and her girls left, I went online to learn more about orbs. This is the first explanation that came up.

Definition of Orbs

Orbs are small, circular, and spherical shapes of light that can be captured in photographs or seen in person. Many people believe that orbs are a manifestation of the presence of a spirit, angel, or deceased loved one. Orbs are also believed to be a form of spiritual energy that can provide protection and guidance.

I went to a store that sold statues. I wanted to buy one to help me feel comforted when I went to work in my backyard.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

When I got home from church today, I went to take care of my animals. As I walked into the backyard, I was surprised to see there were a lot of Doves flying around. After what had taken place, I thought it couldn’t be a coincidence. I stayed in the backyard for a little while. It was amazing to see so many Doves.

My doorbell has many different settings. You can set it to play songs for whatever time of the year it is. When the missionaries discovered this, they kept messing with it. Having it play Christmas tunes or whatever else they felt like. I firmly told them not to touch it.

If you set it to Halloween, it will alternate between spooky noises, such as ghost whispers, moans, wolf howls, or a blood-curdling scream. I can’t stand that setting, so I’ve never used it.

I was in the kitchen about to get something to eat when I heard the sound of ghost moans. I had forgotten about the doorbell, so I couldn’t understand where it was coming from. It had me terrified.

Mike’s parents had pushed the doorbell. They had come to talk to me about their son, who had passed away. Since I didn’t realize it was the doorbell, I didn’t answer.

They could see me through the window, so they pushed the doorbell again. This time, it was the sound of a lady letting out a blood-curdling scream. It scared me even worse than the ghost sound.

As I looked around, trying to figure out where the scream was coming from, I realized someone was at the door. I hurried and opened it. When I saw it was Mike’s parents, I told them to come in.

Since the missionaries had turned the volume to its loudest setting, they had heard it too.

Under the circumstances, we were all uncomfortable with the sounds we had heard. I apologized and told them that the missionaries living with us must have thought it would be funny to turn the doorbell on the Halloween setting.

They had come to talk to me because they were concerned and wanted to know how I was doing. We talked for a little while.

As soon as they had left, I switched the doorbell back to its original setting. Then I went to talk to the missionaries. They were in the backyard shooting the Doves with BB guns. When I saw what they were doing, I was horrified! I asked them what in the world they were doing. They said they had noticed a lot of Doves in the backyard and asked a member to lend them some BB guns so they could shoot them.

I told them to stop what they were doing. One of the Elders said, “Why, it’s great practice, and we were having fun!” I was so frustrated with them!

I reminded them that I had asked them not to mess with the doorbell. I told them how awful it was for Mike’s parents and me to hear those sounds, especially after what had happened.

When they found out I had been startled, they both laughed. Since I had had enough of them, I called the Mission President. I told him that the missionaries had lived with us for two years, and it was time for someone else to enjoy the many promised blessings that come with having them. He told me he would have someone come over with a truck to help move their belongings. I let him know I would appreciate it.

That night when I went to sleep, I had a nightmare. I tried to tell myself it was a nightmare. I then tried to turn the things that I saw into something pleasant. But then I remember the last time I had done that, the nightmare turned out to be real life. It was confusing because I didn’t know whether it was real. The nightmare seemed endless.

I finally managed to force myself awake. Since the nightmare was so awful, I was scared to go back to sleep.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Even though I was tired, I went to the backyard to paint the playhouse.

As I painted, I was angry about so many things that had happened in my life. Things that I couldn’t control.

I wondered if I would ever be okay from what I had seen and if the nightmares were going to come back, and if they did, if I was ever going to be able to control them again. I wanted to talk to someone from the other side, wishing my grandma would appear. As I kept working, I felt someone next to me. It was Mike.

I didn’t want to speak to him because I was angry about what he had done. Since I wanted him to leave, I said, “Shouldn’t you be doing… whatever it is you need to be doing at this time, or take care of whatever it is you need to take care of?” I didn’t quite know how to ask, since I didn’t know what he needed to be doing now that he had passed on.

I was hoping he could tell that I didn’t want to talk to him and leave. He responded, “You are one of the people I need to talk to before I move on.” Since I didn’t want to talk to him, I kept quiet. He, too, was quiet.

As I worked, I could feel his presence beside me. It was the same sweet Mike who had been next to me when he had helped me in the front yard. It didn’t make sense to me how he could have done what he had.

Since I was tired and mad, I blurted out, “How could you do this to me?! I can’t stand the sight of blood. For this very reason, I don’t watch unpleasant movies, and if something does come up that I don’t want to see, I close my eyes! What I saw was too much for me!” Since I was so angry, I didn’t give him a chance to respond.

I told him I was getting the backyard ready for children to come play, not for someone to do what he had done. How could he expect me to ever have a child come back there again? My life would never be the same again!

When I was done talking, he told me he was sorry for all the pain he had caused me, his family, and everyone who cared about him. He never thought about any of us. He was sorry for what I had seen and the trauma he had caused me. His only thought had been to be with Heavenly Father so that he could take away the pain that he was feeling.

After he had explained his pain to me, I felt so much love, compassion, understanding, and forgiveness toward him.

I told him I was sorry for being selfish and for not coming over to talk to him when I had heard him in his grandparents’ backyard. I felt so guilty that I had not said something to help him feel better. It was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life. He told me I wasn’t selfish for being sad and not coming over. He told me I felt I should come talk to him, not for his sake but to help me feel better about what I was dealing with. There was nothing I could have said or done to change his mind. I could hear him laughing because he was happy that he had found a solution to all the pain he was feeling. He wanted to make sure I understood that there was nothing I could have said or done that would have made any difference.

While he was talking, it was as if he went from a child to an adult. He understood the trauma he had caused me. He said I had already been through so much in my life, and I had chosen to take what I learned from it rather than become better. It was as if he knew my life and everything about me. He hoped that I would do the same with what I had experienced because of him.

He told me that because of what had happened, my backyard was a sacred place. I wasn’t to be afraid of having children coming into my backyard to play.

He then said everything you saw, don’t think of it as me. I have moved on. Think of what you saw as “Matter.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. I didn’t want to interrupt and ask, so I kept listening to what he had to say.

He told me that since he knew how traumatic this had been for me, he wanted to warn me. He then instructed me to go over to my tree and asked me to turn over the pot next to it.

As I turned it, he told me not to be alarmed. I was surprised to see there was something. Since it had rained, it was clean. I wasn’t sure of what it was, so I picked it up. As I looked at it, I realized it was part of his skull. Because he had prepared me, I wasn’t scared. It felt so surreal.

Mark knew that I didn’t want the cleaning crew to come back, so he told me I could dispose of it how I wanted.

I got a plastic bag that you couldn’t see through, and put it in. I didn’t want to put it in my garbage can because I was afraid I would think of it every time I opened it. I needed to go to the bank anyway, so I cleaned myself off and then placed the bag in the front seat of my car. I could still feel Mikes precense. I told him he was going for a last ride. He reminded me that it was just “Matter” that I had put in my front seat, but he would still come with me to dispose of it.

Just before I got to the bank, I saw a public garbage can. I started to feel bad for putting his remains in it. He reassured me it was okay. When I got home and was in the backyard again, he told me I would still be able to feel his presence from time to time, and to remember not to be scared to go into the backyard, even if it was dark.

After he had left, I went online to look up the word “matter” to see what it meant.

Definition of Matter

Physical substance in general, as distinct from mind and spirit; (in physics) that which occupies space and possesses rest mass, especially as distinct from energy.

I still wasn’t sure of what it meant. So I kept reading.

I still didn’t quite understand, but I was grateful he had been able to communicate with me and had helped me understand things I hadn’t understood before. It also helped get rid of the anger I was dealing with.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Mike’s mom called me. She told me she had a dream of her son, and he had told her I had something that he wanted her to see. Right away, I thought of the picture I had taken with the orbs. I told her I did and that I would come over and show it to her.

On the way to her house, I stopped to see if the plastic bag was still in the garbage can where I had put it. The garbage man had just been there, so it was empty.

When I saw Mike’s mom, I showed her the pictures. As she looked at them, she said, “I feel like there is more you need to tell me.” So I told her about the experience I had yesterday and how Mike had warned me that I would find more of his remains, but not to be alarmed, because I was to think of it as Matter. Then I told her I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. She smiled and said that sounds like something Mike would say.

She wanted to put what I had found in his coffin. I told her I was sorry because the garbage man had already picked it up. I had no idea anyone would know about it. Otherwise, I would have given it to her. She told me it was okay. She seemed to know what her son had meant when he said to think of his remains as “Matter,” and she was grateful he had told me.

As I left her house, even though I felt bad about not being able to retrieve his remains, I was grateful for the opportunity to share with her his visitation.