by Andy Halpin
Though I did not believe in religion, I very much believed in a power greater than humanity. I did not go along with the proposition that it was all down to “the big bang” and evolution. I felt and believed that even if science could prove “the big bang” had taken place eons ago, someone or something had to have pressed the button to set it off. Nothing happens in a vacuum of its own accord. Likewise with evolution, while certain changes in species could be traced over millions of years, I believed that there had to be a “designer” to oversee the changes. I believed that chance and coincidence could only account for so much of the changes, and that would be on the outside. The evolution of the brain, the nervous system and the subconscious was another thing altogether. It was something that had to be carefully overseen and planned and not left to chance. Right or wrong these were my beliefs and the theories of good and evil, God and the Devil, Heaven and Hell put forward as beliefs by organised religion had no part in them.
I am setting out my beliefs to show where I was in terms of faith at the time of Annette’s passing and the amount of credence I gave to orthodox Christian beliefs about life after death. If, before Annette’s passing, I had been asked if I believed in a life after death, my reply would have been along the lines of, “I don’t know or care if there is one or not, I have no fears or expectations. Whatever is there is there and I have no control over it”. But since Annette’s passing I know and believe beyond doubt that life goes on in some shape or form after we depart this life. That’s why I try not to use the word death when speaking of Annette’s passing from this life. Too many things have happened that cannot be explained, or cannot be explained away by reference to imagination or coincidence, and I believe they started on the night of 2nd November, 2008. After the incident of the falling poem and handkerchief a number of other strange things happened. The first was about a week later when Gina came to visit, with Senan and Ella-May. We had not said anything about Annette’s passing to the grandchildren, beyond saying that Nana had gone to live with the angels. We felt they were too young to take it in and it would have been too painful for them. The grandchildren were not at Annette’s funeral either. When they arrived, as it was a fine day, we decided to take the children to the new playground which had recently opened in the park near the village. As Gina drove to the playground she asked me if I would like to visit the cemetery first. I said yes.
Without saying anything to Senan and Ella, who were in the back seat of the car playing with toys, Gina drove to the cemetery. As we approached the gates she prepared to drive in. Now remember the children had never been there before and they had been told they were going to the new playground, but Ella perked up on the seat in the back of the car and said: “Nana lives here.” We were so shocked and amazed by what we thought we had heard that we asked her what she had said. She repeated: “Nana lives here.”
About a week after this I had the first of a series of what I have referred to as “thought intrusions”. By this I mean thoughts which do not originate in my own mind, but seem to come from outside, in the form of a communication from Annette. I have already referred to the “get your feet off me” incident, the “clutter” and “ghost writer” intrusions while I was in the cemetery.
This kind of “thought intrusion” has happened on a number of other occasions, I have also had other indications that Annette is still exerting her influence from wherever she is now. On the day of the 45th anniversary of our first meeting I went to Bray and went to the spot where we first met. I had asked Annette if it was at all possible for her to do so, to let me know that she remembered what day it was. Nothing happened in Bray but later that night when I went home I was flicking through the t.v. channels and at approximately 8-15 p.m, the time we would have been in the Capitol cinema back in 1965 watching Von Ryan’s Express a caption from a t.v. channel I do not subscribe to came on the screen, the film being shown? Von Ryan’s Express! after a moment I flicked to the next channel, again one I do not subscribe to and a caption came onto the screen with the words You Can Depend On Me, a coincidence?, maybe, but I was very comforted by it and I felt Annette was still around somewhere.
Shortly after this incident, on the night of 16th of August I could not sleep and was tossing around in the bed at approximately 1-50 a.m. when a very strong notion came into my mind to turn on the bedside radio, when I did a female voice I recognised but could not identify was singing. When the song ended the presenter announced the singer as Pauline Scanlon, the daughter of Paul Scanlon from Dingle. Did Annette want me to hear her?
One more example of Annette’s influence on events since her passing was when I was arranging for a headstone to be erected on the grave. I was undecided between two photographs of Annette and didn’t know which one to put on the headstone. I took them both down to the monumental sculptors one morning to get advice on which photograph I should use. I had the two pictures in a bag in which I also had a bunch of flowers to put on the grave. I explained my predicament to the lady in the office and she asked to see them. As I took the flowers out of the bag so I could get at the pictures one of them came out with the flowers and landed on the table between us. Both of us looked at the picture and I just said: “That’s the one.” It was a picture of Annette sitting on the Fungi statue in Dingle.
Another strange thing happened on our son David’s birthday, the 19th of June 2009. It was the first family birthday Annette would not be there for and we were all a bit emotional in the days coming up to it. I was in the house alone that day, sitting reading the paper in the front room when the chimes which we have hanging in the hall started to gently ring. Now this does not happen unless the door is opened as the chimes are moved by the door. I had not noticed anyone coming up the driveway so I was surprised. I went out to the hall to see who was coming in but there was nobody there and the door was closed. There was no breeze and the windows were closed, but as I stood looking at the chimes they continued to ring, very gently for about a minute or so. Was this Annette saying she had not forgotten David’s birthday?
Stranger still was what happened two days later, on Sunday, 21st June, Father’s Day. I woke up feeling very sorry for myself as Annette had always given me a little something on that day, a bottle of wine or a naggin of whiskey or something like that, and I did the same for Annette on Mother’s Day. But this Father’s Day I would be getting nothing from Annette. It was a very misty and damp day and as I sat alone eating my breakfast. I was contemplating whether I should go to the cemetery or not when a thought came into my mind: ‘go to the cemetery and bring something religious.’ I was puzzled by this, what was this about, go to the cemetery and bring something religious? Where was that coming from? I did not understand it. I was not in the least religious and to bring something religious with me was the last thing I would think of doing. But the thought persisted and seemed to be repeating itself.
After breakfast I was still undecided about whether to go to the cemetery or not as the weather was damp and misty but I could not get the thought out of my mind so I decided to go. I looked around for something religious to bring with me and settled on a small Divine Mercy candle holder and candle. I put it into my saddle bag and cycled off to the cemetery.
As I reached the Mill Pub and was about to turn up the road to the cemetery all at once I knew what ‘bring something religious’ meant. It suddenly hit me that it was the day of the annual cemetery mass and Annette wanted something of a religious nature on her grave for it. I was delighted and amazed that Annette had communicated with me in this way and on this day. When I got to the cemetery I was able to decorate her grave with fresh flowers for the Mass, as there was a flower seller outside the gates.
Things did not end there. I was only home about twenty minutes when there was a knock on the door. As I was preparing a light lunch for the children who were coming to visit me for Father’s Day, at first I thought they were early. But when I opened the door I was very surprised to see our former neighbours, Mary and Mike Cab
azon standing outside. They had lived in the house next door to us for many years but had moved some years before and rented out their house. I had last seen them at Annette’s funeral and before that when Annette was attending St. Luke’s and we spoke to them while they were renovating the house for some new tenants.
As I stood looking at them, with a surprised look on my face, I noticed that Mike had a very strange and emotional look on his face. I asked them in and we went into the front room. As we stood looking at each other, each as uncomprehending as the other, Mike almost broke down as he said: “Andy, your wife saved my life.”
I did not know what he meant. All I could do was look at him and say: “I don’t understand Mike. What do you mean?”
Mike then pulled down his coat collar and I was shocked to see he had a line of stitches, exactly like the stitches I had seen on Annette’s neck after her operation. Mike went on to explain that when he had last spoken to Annette he had mentioned that he had a small lump on his neck which had been there for a long time, but it did not bother him in any way. Annette told him he should have it seen to. He did not do anything about it until after Annette had passed away but then he remembered what she had said. He went to see a doctor who sent him for some tests. The results showed he had thyroid cancer.
He had been referred to St. James’s Hospital where he was seen by Dr. Kinsella, Annette’s doctor. Dr Kinsella asked him why he had decided to have the lump on his neck looked at now and Mike told him that a neighbour of his had recently died from cancer and she had told him to go and have it seen to before she died. Dr. Kinsella asked who the neighbour was and Mike mentioned Annette’s name. Dr. Kinsella then told Mike that he knew Annette as he had treated her. He also told him he had come just in time. If he had let it go any longer he would have been in very great danger.
Mike became emotional as he told me this. He is convinced that Annette is responsible for him being alive. He would not have done anything about the lump had he not spoken to her. Before they left Mike handed me a bottle of wine as a gift. So, a morning which had started with me feeling sorry for myself because I thought I would not be getting a present from Annette for Father’s Day ended with me getting two, a communication from Annette, and she also managed to get me a bottle of wine. Just one more thing about Mike Cabazon, he shares the same birthday as Annette, 13th August.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
I’ve referred to the night of 2nd November in the Plaza Hotel Tallaght before. Now I want to go into those events and what followed in greater detail. After Annette had been diagnosed with cancer I made an effort to try and find out who the lady was who had approached me in the Plaza on the night of November 2nd With the assistance and help of my friend Alan Fitzpatrick I succeeded in learning that the lady was a medium named Joan Glennon, although she had told me on the night that she was a medium she had not mentioned her name. She was in the Plaza that night as a guest of the hotel’s Assistant Manager, Karl Walker. She was a friend of his parents. I obtained her phone number through Alan Fitzpatrick. Alan contacted Karl Walker for me as Karl had left the hotel and was living and working in Mayo.
After Annette became seriously ill in the New Year I had wondered about that night and what had been said, particularly because of the pictures falling and cracking at home. I wondered about the implications that could be read into that, as it had happened on my mother’s anniversary, and the medium had said that my mother was holding up a watch. To perhaps signify that time was running out for us? Something about a throat had also been mentioned and now Annette was suffering with throat cancer. But I hesitated about contacting her as I was spending so much time in the hospital with Annette. Then after Annette passed away there did not seem much point. But because of what had happened in Bohernabreena Cemetery on the morning of 24th July I felt I now had no choice, I had to make contact with her. I had to try and get some explanation for the things she had said on 2nd November, 2008.
I rang her on Sunday, 26th July after thinking long and hard about it. I identified myself and asked if she remembered meeting me in the Plaza Hotel the previous November. She said she did, so I then said that certain things had happened in relation to what she had said that night and I would like to speak to her about them. I did not mention that Annette had passed away. She said that she could see me the following Friday, at 11.30 a.m., in her house in Blessington. I said I would be there.
The series of strange incidences which had occurred after Annette’s passing – Ella saying “Nana lives here” as we went to the cemetery, the letter falling from the shelf, the chimes ringing of their own accord on David’s birthday, my communications from Annette and the visit of Mary and Mike Cabazon, and his conviction that Annette was responsible for saving his life, all seemed to lead up to what happened in Bohernabreena cemetery on the morning of Friday, 24th July. That morning convinced me that I should get in touch with the lady who had approached me in the Plaza Hotel the previous November.
One of the things that had been said that night was a complete mystery to me. I just could not understand it. I had talked it over with the family and none of us could understand it, it did not make any sense. The lady had asked me if I was interested in gardening and I replied not in the slightest. She had then said something about roses and that my mother was standing behind me, plucking thorns from a rose. We just could not figure that one out.
Before Annette’s grave had a headstone, I used to put the flowers, usually roses, into one of the vases on the grave. On Friday morning, 24th July, I brought flowers to the grave for the first time since the headstone had been erected. The headstone had two flower pots with metal tops on it, one on each side of the plinth so I took the vases off the grave. I wanted to reduce the clutter now that there was a headstone. I had bought two bunches of roses, one for each flower pot. I unwrapped the flowers and began to put them into the pots, but because of the small holes in the metal grills the roses would not go in. The thorns were protruding from the stems of the flowers so I began to take them off. It was only when I had inserted about three roses that I realised what I was doing. I was plucking the thorns from the roses.
It was too close to what Joan Glennon had said in the Plaza the previous November to be a coincidence, so there and then I rang Gina and told her what I was doing. It seemed like we at last knew the full implication of what my mother had been trying to tell us. After I spoke to the family I decided I had to get in touch with Joan Glennon. Too much had happened since last November that could not be explained.
On Friday, 31st of July, I went to keep my appointment with Joan Glennon in Blessington. Joan had said she would pick me up from the bus stop as her house might be difficult to find. I arrived early and tried to make my own way to her home but I was misdirected and couldn’t find her house. I had to phone her and ask for directions. It turned out I was not too far from her home so Joan told me to keep walking and she would come and pick me up.
When we got to Joan’s home we went into her study. I again asked Joan if she remembered meeting me in the Plaza Hotel the previous November and if she remembered what she had said to me that night. She said she did indeed remember meeting me, but she did not remember what she had said, as she does not remember any of her consultations afterwards. She said she remembered the night because she does not normally approach people on a night out and give communications, but she felt compelled to do so that night.
I then reminded her of what she had said to me but I did not mention, nor had I mentioned on the phone that Annette had passed away. After telling her what she had said to me, I said that certain things had happened since that night and I was wondering if she could in any way clarify what she had said, now that I had reminded her of her words.
She said she was afraid she could not help me as she still did not remember.
I then felt I had no choice but to tell her why I had got in contact with her now. I said that since last November my wife, and I did not mention Annette’s name, had passed
away from cancer which had started in her throat. I told her of how I found myself plucking the thorns from the rose as she had said my mother was doing.
She expressed surprise that Annette had died and asked me if she had been the lady sitting beside me that night. When I said yes, Joan said how well she had looked that night. Then she suddenly seemed to change tack. She said, “I’m getting Ann. Ann is coming through.”
As Ann is not a million miles from Annette I said, “My wife’s name is Annette.”
Joan continued to speak. She said she had to tell me that Annette was very happy now where she was and then she said something that rocked me,
“She says she is very happy about the car.” and before I got over that shock, she continued, “She loves the poem you wrote for her and is glad you changed the inscription on the tombstone.”
She also said, “She says our love will never die, she’ll always be with you.”
I had decided before going to see Joan that I would say as little as possible so I would not lead her in any way. As she spoke I did not respond to what she was saying, but just let her talk, without indicating if she was making sense or not.
Joan then said some things which I could not relate to as they had no meaning for me. But she continued, “You made the right choice about the photograph.”
She went on to speak about Annette’s passing, “She says she was glad it was quick, as she did not have time to think about it and that she had not been in pain and passed peacefully. She was glad she died when she did, she was very happy with the send off you gave her and the way she was dressed.” She also said Annette was saying something about “Frank or Frankie” and about “Showtime”.
I may be reading more into this than I should, but I had been working on a one man show about Frank Sinatra. After Annette passed away I had decided to stop the project as I just did not feel I could give it the attention it needed. Hearing this I thought just maybe Annette was encouraging me to continue with it. In the event she did encourage me and I have resumed work on it.