Visitor In The Second Row

The Visitor in the Second Row

I’m gonna be honest - I wasn’t sure I was going to write this because lots of you might think I’m crazy. This is not a joke, there’s no punchline at the end.  Its not a made up story to get views or likes.  It’s not a Halloween story.  It’s not anything like you would see on those stupid ghost shows on TV. I saw it as sure as I’m sitting here.  It’s an experience I’ve never had before, and I’m getting goosebumps just typing it.  Maybe it was my imagination, but it was so vivid and lasted so long that I just can’t believe my mind conjured this up.  

I was happy to hear that my niece’s infant daughter was going to be christened because that meant I would be going back to my Mother’s church.  It’s a small Anglican house of worship nestled in the woods on top of a steep hill.  Mom loved that church - so much so that when she passed, they gave her a special tribute. For several years one of her Sunday best hats was placed where she always sat on the second row. 

I was greeted like I was family. Many of them remembered me from my connection with Mom, and we shared some wonderful stories before and after the service. 

Worship itself was “high church”, very much like the old Episcopal services I remember as a child.  Lots of standing and kneeling, lots of thees and thous.  Organ playing, communion with a silver chalice.  It’s a beautiful ritual, which attracted my Mother to it.  

As we went thru the prayer book (no fancy video screens), I periodically had thoughts of Mom, but I was by no means fixated on her.  Instead, I was enjoying the entire service - a pleasant reminder of my youth.  Besides the baptism, they had a confirmation and members joining - it was a cycle of life kind of day.  Little did I realize that the cycle was not yet complete. When the service came to an end, we began to sing a final song as the procession started down the main aisle. I turned to the correct song in the hymnal  and then looked up. 

And I saw my Mother. 

It was as clear as I’ve ever seen her.  No opaque spirit, no blurry image - Mom was solid and real as anyone I’ve ever seen. I blinked and expected her to be gone, just a by-product of my imagination. But no, she was still there, standing on the second row with a hymnal in her hands.  I stopped singing and gaped in disbelief for at least 7 seconds.   She was dressed in a flowery purple and yellow skirt, white blouse, and of course the trademark hat.  I turned to my wife Carol and looked back. Mom was still there, singing, just like another member of the congregation. 

As the song was ending, Carol gave me a nudge and said,” What’s the matter with you?  You look pale.”

“I just saw my mother.  Right there in her old seat.”  I gestured to the second row, now empty. My eyes were wide. “I’m freaking out!”

I told her what I had just witnessed.  In fact, I told several people, including the Bishop.  None of them were dismissive of the story. The consensus was that this is a spiritual place, so it’s appropriate that you saw the spirit of your mother here.  

Apparently I’m not alone. A survey found that 2/3 of all people say that they have experienced contact with a departed loved one. In addition, some research suggests that on occasion the brain may summon spirits as a method of coping with a loss.  But in my case, Mom has been gone for 15 years.  The pain has faded.  I’ve coped.  

Being a Believer and a spiritual person, I have to consider the real possibility that I indeed saw my Mother.  Just as difficult as it is to prove, it’s equally difficult to disprove. You should know  this didn’t scare me or make me sad, it just really surprised me. But I don’t know why - she went to church every Sunday. 

And if you ask me, she still does. 

Joe Hobby is a comedian who wrote for Jay Leno for 25 years. For more of his stories, visit: https://mylifeasahobby.blogspot.com/?m=1.