IMPORTANT: Before reading this blog I strongly advise that you read Daydreams part 1 as this is the continuation of that post.
After that incident I forgot all about religion, spirit and anything of an esoteric/religious nature for a couple of years and put my mind on school and the mundane routine of day-to-day life. I was a lot luckier than many of the other children I went to school with in that my parents were able to afford a foreign holiday for us each year. We had been to the States to visit relatives in 1987 and then the Algarve in '88 and '89but in 1990 my parents decided on one of the Canary Islands (Lanzarote) as our destination for two weeks.
I was twelve and my sister, Helen, was seven so we were plenty old enough to appreciate the magic and beauty of the lunar landscapes on the volcanic island. Lanzarote provided new places and new adventures for me, after two holidays in a small fishing village in southern Portugal, My sister, all blonde hair and blue eyes, always loved the attention she got from the locals when we went abroad.
Despite the extraordinary landscape and fantastic history of the island our holiday might have been ordinary and un-note worthy if it hadn't been for a single defining moment, that would change my life forever....
My parents had hired a car for a few days, with the intention of seeing more of the small island. I remember them sitting outside the rented apartment each evening with a glass of wine looking at tour hiudes and brochures. In the morning my sister and I would be full of excitement at the prospect of another mystery tour. On this occasion we set out to visit a busy little market town, that had narrow cobbled streets, ancient buildings and a quaint Cathedral. The village was really sleepy and there were very few people on the streets when we arrived, but after a little exploration we found the town square where a bustling market was taking place. Tourist mingled alongside locals and all were haggling over the price of linens, fruits and trinkets that were on offer.
I have never been good in crowded places and suffer claustrophobia when I am stuck in large crowds. The visit to the market was no exception and I was frightened of getting lost in the crowd so I held on tight to my dads hand. We made slow progress through the marketplace and were surrounded on all sides by people who were also mingling. That was when things changed for me....
The streets weren't just busy with market stalls and tourists, but sights and sm ells collided with my senses and I struggled to take it all in. Trying to find a way through the crowds we were forced to stand for a moment and wait for a way through. In that moment I felt compelled to turn around; what I saw when I did is something I will NEVER forget!
The heaving mass of people behind us had gone and instead I saw a single man standing about six feet from me. His appearance was simple and in keeping with the holiday atmosphere; he wore cream shorts and a short sleaved red checked shirt. His attire made him stand out against the white-washed walls that surrounded the market square. When I looked into his eyes I saw the face of my grandfather light up in a radiant smile. I felt comforted and turned back as my dads hand pulled me forward through the crowd. I glanced back and saw that my grandfather had dissappeared and the crowd had returned.
I firmly believe that this was my first encounter with spirit; because of my young age I was shown my grandfathers form knowing that I would be comforted by the appearance of a loved one. My grandfather passed away eight days before my fifth birthday, so I have no memory of spendig time with him; I wouldn't even know what he looked like if it wasn't for family photographs.
The experience changed me profoundly and although I knew what I saw was actually my grandfathers ghost I never felt scared or unsettled. I know others who have had similar experiences and they have told me that they felt the same love, light, compassion and warmthas well.
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I grew up in a small village in Fenland Canbridgeshire, although there were a few shops; a newsagents, general store and butchers; the nearest town is ten miles away. The village was always very busy, but lacked the hustle and bustle of a busy market town. During the day, traffic moved sedately up and down the high street, not just cars but cyclists, tractors and the occassional horse ridden by someone from the local stables. Surrounded by farmland, many of the villagers rely on the earth to make a living. For many I am sure that the Fens provide some interest and perhaps even mystery; but to my immature mind I just saw an expanse of crops and grass keeping me prisoner within the village. At night things changed. I've never been interested in learning the names of the constellations we see in the night sky and have never really been interested in learning how to read my future from the stars. But they did hold my captive attention almost every night as a child.
