About a week before he died, I fell into a depression and remember telling my work colleague that it felt like grief but for no apparent reason.
This lasted a good few days and then disappeared.
The day before he died, I went to switch the light on and blew the fuses. The lightbulb exploded which I found alarming at the time.
The night before he died, he was ill with the flu and in bed. For some strange reason, I said “do you want me to call an ambulance?”. He said no, don’t be silly as he only had a cold and had been to the doctors that day.
I noticed he had a golden glow about him though.
I went to work the next day as normal but wanted to hear if my dad was okay and could hear him get up, so I thought that everything was okay.
Then I got the news at work.
I rushed home and he had already passed away.
The following morning at around 4am, I woke up and could feel his presence - it was so strong. It was as though I could reach out and touch him.
He then started talking and showing me his favourite memories of his life and he said that these were the treasures he will take with him. This conversation lasted for ages, but then suddenly he said he had to go!
I begged him to stay a little longer. But he said he must go as someone will call me on the phone.
I said no one will call me at 6am as it’s too early. He went anyway and low and behold, the phone rang. It was his sister who I hadn’t spoken to since I was 4 years old.
I was gobsmacked.
The day of my father’s funeral came and it was so surreal.
I could feel my dad’s presence in the house before the burial. The strange thing was there was this perfume or scent which was so overpowering. I hunted around to see if one of the children had spilt something but there was nothing there. And oddly enough, I was the only one who could smell it.
I had no idea what was causing this fragrance, but it was strong.
We left for the funeral and before the burial, we were allowed to see his body.
My father was a muslim and he was wrapped in a white cloth and his body was dressed with burial oils. The oils were fragrant. It was the same fragrance I could smell at home which was a good few miles from the funeral home!
Proof that he was with us on that sad day.
When you’re psychic, it can feel scary facing these situations and exploring how your abilities can give you clues to what lies ahead.
This is one of the reasons I started the
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