Sheilaclapkin's Blog;

This red dress was displayed in front of an antique store somewhere in the middle of America. I wish to heaven I could remember where, and perhaps by the time I finish this memory, I will.  The store had placed an empty chair next to the dress (not shown in the picture). I was tired and while the other people in the group busied themselves with the inside of the store, I sat in the chair next to the red dress.

I closed my eyes and felt the sounds of the present melting away giving rise to differing sounds with different tones and noise levels. I was drifting. I felt myself transform in dissolving ways. My mind took on a multitude of tumbling images and finally rested on a scene, which I was not only observing but a participant.   I was walking with someone and in a few moments that someone came into full view.  He was handsome. He was my intimate friend.  We were walking to visit a party at a home where our family had gathered. The home was freshly painted, with fresh fumes wafting and the entryway trees provided shade. I was very happy to be showing off the dress I made for the special party. It fit me perfectly and made me feel comfortable and well.  I recollected that I waited for months to get just the right color and texture cloth for this special dress.

The festivities were in full swing. People were waving; children came running to greet us and hugged us both tightly. Music was playing and the sounds were floating away. Just in those last moments of my reverie, I opened my eyes because someone was calling me into the present.  I know this was a contact, a very strong contact from the past.  I wish there were more recollections to tell, but honestly it was just a snippet in time.

Oh, I can hear you readers on the other end.  This lady is cracked in the head.  I want you to know that I am not, but I do believe that there are pockets of time that are trapped  and when coaxed burst into the present only momentarily. Do I get these bursts often, no, actually I am not lucky enough to get them often. Now that I have lost a good portion of readers, this is for you who are still reading.

When visiting in Poland, my ancestors somewhere in Warsaw contacted me. They followed me to the border of Poland and Russia. They blew wind through my hair, they whispered in my ear, they nudged me in various directions, they told me they were happy I came to visit, they told me to taste the amber I wanted to buy and I did. It had an acrid taste allowing me to know it was real. I tasted others after that encounter and when there was no acrid taste I knew those pieces of amber to be fake.  I wish life were all that easy.  Just taste and know it to be a fake.

A number of years ago, on a hot and humid night with all of the windows in the house open, I was sitting in the living room. Mists and puffs came floating by, which were stuffed with sounds from an old radio show. The announcer, in his rich full- bodied voice was announcing the next program. I was too shocked and a bit too terrified to remember if I made out any of the words that would identify the program. I chalked it off to the fact that it was one of those bubbles of trapped time that exploded in my living room.

I have enjoyed my otherworldly encounters and I hope I have more in the future. I also hope you will share some of yours. We are not alone.