PREMONITION

As kids we were carefree, as you would expect of kids. Perhaps careless is the right word. We would put a glass filled with water or juice at the edge of the table or near the bed or some place where it was in danger of falling or spilling. My Tita, who lived with us when she was single, would often utter, “If you don’t remove that glass from there right away, it is going to fall and break.” We would often not obey pretending we didn’t hear her only to be proven she was right. If it was not a glass that broke, it could be something that fell and hit the head, or a plate that broke, or food that got wasted on the floor, something like that. She would always sense that something was coming or going to happen.

When we were older, I guess her senses graduated to some extent that she would dream of something that would take place in the future.

The first thing that comes to mind was during the early 1980’s when she dreamt of my uncle, her brother. In the dream she saw my uncle’s red car, slowly being driven down our road. She couldn’t see who was driving though she assumed it was my uncle, since he drove in it everyday. Behind the car was my Grandma, pacing slowly, with my uncle’s wife and two young kids in tow. She said it was just like a funeral procession.

Two months later, my uncle would die of a stroke during a basketball game with his officemates. He was suffering from high blood pressure. Basketball was a regular Friday activity of their office. That night was especially exciting. Like the rest of his officemates, he was cheering loudly and jumping when he suddenly slumped dead on the ground holding his aching heart. It was a tragic blow, for his wife wasn’t there when it happened.

Another dream she had was of my Grandpa’s cousin. In her dream she saw a big fire eating up their huge white house. After two years, the bank they owned did go up in smoke, but not literally. The bank went bankrupt and shut down.

One death dream she had was involving her officemate. She saw her standing behind a black cloth that was placed in the woman’s living room. The living room was empty, except for the black cloth that hang completely covering the wall. After I don’t know how long, I forgot, her officemate’s mother would pass away.

Another event that would materialize after a series of “two somethings” was the crime perpetuated on my sister. After the devastating earthquake of 1990 that shook Baguio and brought it to its knees, crime rate shoot up due to 90% of shops, offices and establishments closing down literally. Two days before it happened, my Tita woke up at dawn because of the disturbing dream she had of my sister. That night she didn’t come home because she had gone to her friend’s birthday party. She spent the night there. When she came home the next morning, my parents and my Tita wouldn’t quit asking her what bad thing happened to her the previous night. She kept on saying nothing happened, and that she had a great party.

Two nights later, when she came home after work, she was followed by two hoodlums right from the moment she came out of her office until she reached the Cathedral Church. It was really dark in that portion of the street. They took their chance by walking alongside her, one on each side and pulling her into the dark, with a knife pointed at her side. In the dark they got everything she had except for the umbrella. She was lucky they set her free. When she arrived home, I thought it was funny that she was holding her closed umbrella, while the rain kept on pouring. She was rain-soaked and her clothes were dripping. She didn’t tell my parents at once, she immediately locked herself in the room and asked me for a dipper of water to clean up her wound. They set her free because she lied that her baby was waiting for her at home, when she was actually single and childless. She had sustained a moderately deep cut on her neck. The scar still remains to this day.

There was one more revealing vision she had sometime in 2007 but has not yet taken place. It’s been 2 years and counting…. I wouldn’t delay writing about it as soon as it materializes. Log in next week for more encounters of the third kind.

 

KARMA? Another Story

May kasabihan, “Matagal mamatay ang masamang damo”. But I guess this saying doesn’t always hold true.

When my Dad was younger, he once worked as an agent for some company. Unfortunately, the company flapped. To his surprise, one of the company’s clients, whom he himself introduced to the company as an agent, filed a legal suit against him for the reason that my Dad was the instrument who made him join the company. The client was running after his investments from the company since it has filed for bankruptcy.

My Dad was a victim, just as he was. He was out of job. He was just working for the company. He didn’t own the company. He was not liable for its downfall.

Anyway, this client was barking at the wrong tree. He wouldn’t listen to reason and even got my Dad arrested. He really gave him a hard time but of course for my Dad, justice prevailed.

Some years flew by, and one day this client was in the front page of the local daily news. He had died of a gunshot wound. He was shot from the back while seated in a waiting jeepney. The reason: he was wearing a jacket which he had borrowed from somebody whom he didn’t know had angered another person – the shooter. The shooter thought the client was the real owner of the jacket and needed to settle a score with him by shooting him. He wore the jacket at the wrong time, at the wrong place. It was somewhat an accidental shooting since the bullet was not intended for him in the first place.

It’s amazing how life plays out. Coincidence? Let’s see. Check out my next story and then tell me if this is coincidence.

KARMA?

Another event involving my Dad in his workplace took shape sometime when we were older. One of his officemates kept on breathing down orders on his neck in a manner that was somehow degrading. He was my Dad’s immediate boss. When he called my Dad, he wouldn’t even call out his name, he would say, “hoy” or something like that. He was eaten by jealousy for the main boss kept on praising out loud, his appreciation for my Dad’s commendable work output, to his superior’s disgust.

My dad was pissed off but he dared not say a word nor lift his hand in retaliation to this man, being his next-in-line boss. It was tough, he would say, to be treated in humiliation.

Eleven months would pass before my Dad would finally be able to work in peace. He wondered why his immediate boss didn’t report to work for quite some time. Then he heard that he was involved in a car accident. His car flew off a cliff while he was driving home one night. He just came from a party and was quite intoxicated. His accident rendered him paralyzed down the waist. He was bedridden and out of work.

It was a sad story but honestly calming to some extent.

It is funny (and understandable) how older people, I mean really old, would first look at the obituary section of the newspaper every time they got hold of one. Well, a number of those who had passed away, my dad would mention, when he recognized one, did him wrong in the past. Although their stories are not so interesting as the ones I had written, it still busts that saying that “matagal mamatay ang masasamang damo.”

One bully person who died of stroke in his old age was my Dad’s former boss. During the time when we were constructing our house, my Dad went to a government office to file a loan so he can buy more construction materials. To his surprise he found out that their monthly office contributions from their salaries were not being remitted to the office although it was stated as a deduction in the salary slip. The boss pocketed the money. When he found that out, they had a shouting engagement.

I guess, everything has its own time…

Now my Dad lives in California with my Mom and my sister. 

 

Huling Paalam

A not-so-close encounter happened exactly during the time when my paternal grandfather died. My grandfather was 96 when he died. It was the year 1996. He was bed-ridden and refused to eat for 10 days prior to his death. It seemed that his spirit wanted to move on already but his body didn’t. Anyway, he died in his sleep around dawn. When my Dad came up to his room in the morning with breakfast, he discovered that my grandfather’s body was cold, stiff and purple already. He didn’t die of any ailment; he just died of old age.

A day before my Grandpa died, my sister went vacationing at a beach resort in La Union. Early in the morning, about 4 am, they were disturbed by persistent knocking at their beach hut. Thinking how crazy it was for anyone to disturb their sleep at an unholy hour, they ignored it thinking the person would just give up and go away. But they were wrong. The knocking didn’t stop until they finally opened the door only to find no one.

Also at dawn, my eldest sister who lived in another place, woke up thinking she heard someone outside knocking. She peeked out the window but nobody was there. That was the time my Grandpa was dying. His spirit went roaming before he went. He was bidding them goodbye. As for me, I was the last one he saw the day before. After he saw me, he called out for my brother.

After he died, Dad had his room repainted because on the wall where his head would rest ever single day while he sat on his bed, was the shape of his head.

Have you had this experience? Or heard a similar story? Tell me about it.

Messages From The Spirit Guides - The Intruders

The same thing would repeat itself in 2007. Through the summer, my parents would often sleep with their windows open, especially when the temperatures rose. This time, with all of us grown and living separately, they had the house to themselves.

Although the windows had no protective bars, their room was upstairs so they didn’t have second thoughts about the safety of leaving the windows open at night.

It is a known fact that thieves and robbers would stroll at night on escapade especially on hot evenings, more often than on cold rainy nights. And this was one of those nights.

At about 4 am, a voice told my Dad to wake up. When he opened his eyes, he was alarmed to see 3 figures on the roof outside their window. The men were slowly and silently creeping up, one man clutching the opened window and almost setting his foot on the window sill. Immediately he stood up and shouted loudly at them. My Mom woke up instantly. The three men suddenly leaped from the roof and went flying down the street. They all started running down the road and disappeared into the night. That was about a 15 foot leap! It was amazing they didn’t break their tendons. It seems they have developed the expertise of high jump being who they are and doing what they do.

It was a frightening experience since we never would have guessed what tragedy might have taken place that night, had it been for that voice. It sends up a warm feeling inside knowing that someone’s looking out there for us. 

Messages From The Spirit Guides - The Candle

This one didn’t happen to me. It was my Dad’s experience. It was the early 80’s when the electric company’s service wasn’t so good that ever so often, the city would experience blackouts mostly lasting through the night. It was one of those familiar days. All 7 of us would spend the evening seated together around the table playing scrabble by candle light, munching on fritters that my mom used to make served in papers rolled up like ice cream cones.

That specific evening, my sister and I didn’t want to wrap up the night yet. We chatted through nightfall until we fell asleep. I used to share a room with her on the second floor. My parents’ bedroom was on the first floor. My siblings stayed in the other 2 rooms upstairs.

By 2 am, we were sound asleep when there was a scuffle in our room. I was shocked to see my Dad fighting fire with a smoking blanket in hand. Suddenly I remembered, we left our candle burning! The candle was sitting on a round stool that was beside the bed near my sister’s pillow. The stool was on fire! The stool caught fire easily since it was wooden. My Dad came to our rescue just in time before the flame spread.

My dad sleeps like a log to such extent that his heavy snoring, heard upstairs doesn’t wake him up a bit. He said a voice woke him up and told him to check our room.

To this day that wooden stool with its burned top is a reminder of that incredible night. 

Messages From Spirit Guides - The Man In The Dark

One unforgettable experience, which I would rather not recall was an crime that almost happened to me.

It was a warm night in late May of 1995 when I decided to walk home from work. It was barely 9 pm. The crisp night air was beckoning. After I passed the neon lighted street, I came to a short bridge. It was dark in that part of the road. My apartment was just a block away. From afar, I noticed a guy walking toward me. He was on the other side of the road. There was no one else. Suddenly, my heart started pounding. A voice told me to “watch out for him and get ready”. I could swear that every time something terrible is about to happen, I just get this nasty feeling inside me. My chest would feel like a hollow drum and I would hear my heart pounding. I meet so many people everyday, I wouldn’t really take time keenly observing one individual but that night, I just had to fix my eyes on the man.

A car passed by. As the car’s tail lights faded away into darkness and although I cannot recall ever noticing his features or the color of the clothes he was wearing, I noticed that after he passed me, he crossed the road to go to my side and walked directly at my back. It was strange knowing that if he wanted to turn back, he could just right about face on his side of the road. He had another plan. Then I started to brisk walk and ended up running when I heard him start running. My suspicions were confirmed. Suddenly he grabbed for my hair. During that time, I wore it long, reaching just above my waist. As he grabbed my hair, he pushed my back with his other hand, bringing me down on my knees. I had a bag hanging on my right shoulder and I was clutching a paper bag. The man grabbed for my paper bag and he was also pulling at my arm. It seemed he was after my bag and me. Good thing I was able to call out for help. People from the nearest house came running out of their front door so the man released his hold on me. The first neighbor reached me just before the guy jumped into the pitch black shallow river with my paper bag. My knees were all bruised and bleeding. I was wearing an office uniform – a pair of navy blue pencil cut skirt and short-sleeved blouse. The skirt’s length was just above my knees such that the fall rendered my stockings all dirty and torn. I was lucky; I think the man was unarmed.

Looking back, I did listen to that voice. It warned me, like it always does. After a few minutes, the place was roaring with police cars. There was no trace of the man, only my scattered possessions and the paper bag, all floating on the river. The other end of the river is an entry to another community, which is where he must have hidden. Every single night after that, I faithfully rode a cab straight home. It took me months before I regained confidence to walk by myself after sunset.

Have you ever been stalked? Tell me about it.