Are There Spirits after Death?

Are There Spirits after Death?

I know I have asked this question once before, but now I have to ask one more time.  Do you believe in the hear-after?  There have just been far too many unexplainable things that have happened to me…or perhaps I should say…for me.  You know to help me in my life…and absolutely none of it has been negative.  I am not talking about bad spirits…I don’t even know if I am talking about spirits at all…but I certainly am talking about life after death.  Is there life after death?   If there is…what exactly is life after death?  Over time I have had many things happen that really has me questioning if there really is life after death.  Spirits may be a more appropriate word to use than life, that is, if you believed in spirits after death.   Earlier this year I blogged about the ‘Here-After,’ or about some experiences I had that were most unusual.   I asked the readers of these blogs, if they believed in such a thing.  That same blog described things that happened to me after Steve died.  Since then…more things have happened, only now I don’t believe it is Steve anymore, I now believe it is…hell…I really don’t know what or who is it?  I really want to believe it is Jeff, because every time I am at my lowest emotional point, something unusual happens, something unexplainable.  Here is my story…

Earlier this month I was lying in bed, not sleeping but reading online about election results.  My niece was running for office in another state, so I was online trying to keep up with the results of that election.  I was not only online getting results but I was also texting and receiving texts from my sister-in-law during the election.  While on the computer…in my right ear I clearly heard…

“Mom, there is no reason for you to be living alone anymore.” 

“What the hell was that?”  As the words were being spoken into my ear I could also feel a warm breath on my ear.  I instantly turn my head to the right and at the same time my hand raced up to my ear cupping it as though trying to protect it.  “What the hell”…Keep in mind I was not asleep…I was wide awake on my computer.   In a split second, I jumped out of bed, and flipped on the light.  I am not sure what I was thinking I would find…and honestly…I wasn’t even thinking.  Of course there was nothing, no one in the room, just me and Fritz, my cat.  And NO…I was not afraid, not in the least bit frightened…but definitely startled.  The voice in my ear…the words I heard, the voice which spoke to me…was not a shout, nor was the voice loud…but it wasn’t a whisper either.  It was somewhere in-between.   It was softly spoken directly to me, directly in my ear…”Mom, there is no reason for you to be living alone anymore.”  That was what was said to me.  And that is absolutely something Jeff would have said to me...definitely would have said to me…there is absolutely no doubt about that!  But was it Jeff I heard?  I clearly heard the words.  I undoubtedly heard someone, something…talk to me…talk directly into my ear, to me. 

Was this for real?  I know for a fact I was awake…wide eyed and awake.  There have been so many phenomenon’s or occurrences of unexplainable things that have happened to me, not once…but time and again…from several loved ones lost.  I don’t understand but upon researching I found a book titled, The Origin of Love which talks about Spirits after death.  

“Each human soul born on earth as a human being has one guardian spirit assigned to look after him or her whilst on earth. As a general rule, the role of a guardian spirit is taken by one of the soul siblings, who lived on earth most recently and has the most recent knowledge of the three-dimensional world. Our guardian spirits try to protect us from evil and danger, and send us inspirations so that we will make the correct decisions in the most important phases of our lives.” (Okawa 2003)  

I ask you the reader, “Can this be true?”  I personally do not have an answer, all I know for sure is these things have happened to me, not once, not twice, but a number of times.  The earliest I can remember was when I was twenty years old.  My brother Manuel passed away and came to me in a very vivid and surreal dream.  So is this true…is someone floating around trying to protect me.  If so, who?  Jeff?  Steve?  All I know for sure is that things continue to happen…around me, both in my dreams and while I am awake.  Too many things keep happening…things that a rational person cannot explain.  Perhaps that is my answer…perhaps I am not a sound person.

I clearly remember another time I heard something…it was months after Jeff passed.  I again was lying in bed but quite honestly…I know I was sound asleep that time. I was sound asleep until I was jerked awake by a shout…”Olgie!”  I jolted to a sitting position as I was awaken by the loudness of the shout.  It was my brother’s voice.  I remember thinking at the time the voice was that of my older brother.  I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I would hear my brother shout my name, especially because he lives in California.  I certainly wasn’t dreaming about him that night…but I was awakened to his voice shouting my name, “Olgie!”  The voice was not in my dreams…the voice was there in the room…extremely loud.  I have thought about that night often…and now with the events of the other night…this night which happened last year has been on my mind more times than I can tell you.  It was just absolutely surreal and yet I knew then and now I know now for sure…at least I think I know…it was real.  This whole experience is just crazy!  I truly was asleep, and I was indeed awakened to the shouting voice of my brother.  After hearing the voice the other night…I now have doubts that I heard my older brother shout my name…I now have to wonder if it was my younger brother who shouted my name…my brother Slobby who died in October 2013.   The more I think about it…the more I rewind that shout in my head…the more I believe it may have been my brother Slobby yelling my name, screaming my name…to wake me.

  

I know I am grasping at straws for an answer to whatever the hell happened. I can honestly say I have given this subject much thought...and still I have no answers. But if you believe Okawa;

“Death is not the end of life.  Death is just a departure for the Spirit World, which is our true home in the afterlife.  People today know about earthly things in much greater detail than they did in the past, but when it comes to the important spiritual matters such as death and the world after death, it can be said the people of the past were much more knowledgeable.  Information concerning the world after death is not taught in schools, many people believe that talk of the world after death is old fashion, and spend their lives in ignorance of it.” (Okawa 2003)  

I heard Jeff talk to me…am I going crazy… I do not think this is the case.  All I know without a doubt is Jeff would have definitely said those words to me…has said similar things to me whilst he was alive.  Insisted I start dating so I could have a better life, a happy life.  So did he talk to me in death?   I remember when Steve was in his last months…he would say to me, “Honey, someone is tapping on my shoulder.”  Or he would say, “Honey, I can feel someone here with me, telling me it’s time.

I remember saying to Steve, “It is probably Ramon (Steve’s father), tell him you are not ready to go."  Or I would say, “It is God…tell him to wait…we are not ready for him to take you.” 

About two weeks before Steve was diagnosed with cancer he woke from a very vivid dream he had. I too woke because I could feel him stirring, I could see he was upset.  “Honey, are you OK?” I asked him. 

“I just had the weirdest dream,” he said.  I could immediately sense he was upset.  “I dreamt my parents were here talking to me.  My father was saying, “It is time Sonny boy.  It is time for you to come with us.  Your Mama and I are here to get you.  Come with us Sonny.  It is time.” 

Steve was clearly upset.  He said his dream was very real…he said it was as though he wasn’t dreaming…as though his parents were actually there talking to him, telling him his time here on earth was up.  Two weeks later we were told Steve was dying, with stage four stomach cancer…we were told he had four months to live.  In the last two weeks of Steve’s life, he could feel more people surrounding him, touching him, and caressing his shoulder. 

So keep this in mind…Steve was a believer in God…Jeff had his doubts there was a God.  And even though Jeff had his doubts…he kept his father’s Bible…he read it and had pages marked in it.  And the songs his children picked for Jeff’s video (which were Jeff’s favorites songs), all were of a spiritual nature.  I am not sure if that makes any difference what-so-ever…but if it does what exactly would the difference be?  Did Jeff speak to me?  Did Steve’s parents tell him of his upcoming demise?  Steve did not question it…he knew his parents came to him.  He felt at peace knowing they would be there to greet him as he passed from this world to the next.  He spoke of it often…he believed it.  I often think about this…and I so hope Steve was there tapping on Jeff’s shoulder in his last days.  It makes me feel better imagining that he was there to greet Jeff as he too passed from this world to the next. 

There are many books written about communication with the deceased, one is, “The Afterlife of Billy Fingers” which was written by Annie Kagen.  In her book the author talks about her deceased brother and how he describes to her in detail his life after his death.  She communicated with her departed sibling many, many times…while she was awake.  Kagen shares her extraordinary journey into the mysteries of the afterlife of her brother.  So is this possible?  In doing research there are numerous accounts of after death communications with loved ones.  “Our guardian spirit always wishes for our personal happiness, and for the progress and prosperity of the earthly world.” (Okawa 2003)  If this is true, would it be so hard to believe Jeff would want me to be happy even though he is not here on earth.   Did my brother try to reach me…did he shout my name?  Did he want me to hear him, to know he was here with me?  I really do not know what to believe…all I know is I heard what I heard…and someone talked aloud, directly in my ear.

Steve was open in his spiritual beliefs…but where do spirits come in to these beliefs, if at all, in Biblical terms?  What about angels?  Could angels be after death spirits?  There are many writings in the Bible about spirits, about angels, about resurrections, about spirits leaving the body behind.  An article by Richard P. Bucher, ‘Where Does the Soul Go After Death,' wrote “According to Scripture, the soul leaves the body at death.”  If this is true…and if the soul/spirit, depending upon your belief, does not immediately go with Christ…where then, does it go?  Is it just floating about?  I do not have an answer.  How many stories in the Bible talk about resurrection?  The writers of the Bible wrote several stories of resurrection implying the soul itself returned to the body. First, there is the example of Elijah raising the widow’s son from the dead. 

 

“And he stretched himself upon the child three times, and cried unto the LORD, and said, O LORD my God, I pray thee, let this child's soul come into him again.  And the LORD heard the voice of Elijah; and the soul of the child came into him again, and he revived” (1 Kings 17:21-22). This passage specifically says that the child’s soul ‘came into him again.’  Bucher goes on to give a second example, “Jesus’ raising of Jairus’s twelve year old daughter from the dead. “And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead.  But taking her by the hand he called, saying, "Child, arise.”  And her spirit returned, and she got up at once (Luke 8:53-55). As in the example, this text also speaks of the soul of a dead person “returning” into the body.” (Bucher) 

 

And how many of us have not heard of the raising of Lazarus from the dead?  The stories go on and on.  If you believe in the ‘Good Book’ the stories are there…if you don’t believe in religion, there are still many stories in modern times where people have been revived, and tell of things that happened while they were not breathing…or dead. 

“The Lutheran Church teaches, ‘The souls of those who have died will return to their bodies which will be raised to stand before Christ on Judgment Day.  And The Seventh Day Adventists’ interpretation of Luke 23:43 is well known. Since they steadfastly believe in soul sleep, they get around this clear passage by claiming that the punctuation in Bible translations is wrong. Instead of the passage reading, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise,” they hold that it should read, “Truly I say to you today, you will be with me in Paradise” (not today but on the Last Day).” (Bucher)

 This belief of the Seventh Day Adventist was Steve’s belief.  He believed the way he was brought up to believe, he knew...that he would not directly go to heaven.  He silently scoff when people talked about going directly to heaven…he always said, “I am ready.  I will go when he takes me, meanwhile I will just be.” 

I found another article that talk about spirits or souls.  The author of “What Does the Bible Say About Death?” writes, “If souls existed as separate entities that lived on after we died, that would mean we have immortality. However, the Bible says human beings do not have immortality. Only God is immortal (1 Timothy 6:15, 16). Paul says that the righteous “seek for glory, honor, and immortality” (Romans 2:7). If we had immortal souls, why would the righteous seek after something they already have?”  So if you believe this, it says we have no souls, no spirits after we die.  We just die…and sleep. 

   

The material I found in researching this is but a grain of sand, for there is an abundance of material both in support of spirits after death, and in repudiating the same.  I wish I had an answer to all these things that keep happening to me.  I don’t have the answer.  I guess it all depends on individual beliefs in spirits.  Are there are souls/ghosts who choose to remain at the scene of their death for a while.  Can there be spirits who choose to comfort someone who is grieving, or have other reasons to stay near the place of their death for a while?  Do spirits, ghost, souls have to be bad for us to believe in them?  Why is it easier for people to believe in bad spirits…but they have troubles believing in good spirits?  

Hell, I do not have the answer!  What I do know is people have been visiting me…dead, spirits, souls, ghosts, angels…I do not know what to call them.  I do not even know for sure if they actually visited me…I do know the incidences have helped me tremendously, especially when I needed it most.  And the dreams…both Steve’s dream of his parents, and my ‘Spider Dream’ described in an earlier blog…not to mention the things that have happened while I have been awake…both at night and in broad daylight, were just too damn vivid to doubt. 

 

Years ago after Steve died and these types of occurrences kept happening I did similar research.  I do not remember who wrote this but I remember reading, “There are souls who choose to remain at the scene of their death for a while, there are others who choose to stay and comfort someone who is grieving, and there are still others who have other reasons to stay near the place of their death.”

The day Jeff perished…there was a tapping, a slight squeezing or caressing on my knee…for the entire first week after Jeff died I felt tapping on my knee as in a caressing nature.  Every time I felt it I talked about it to those around me.  Was it Jeff, assuring me he was finally at peace?  Was it Steve letting me know he was with Jeff?  All of these strange occurrences are just too unbelievable, yet I can assure you these things really did happen.  So have I at least given you something to contemplate?  Do you have an opinion?  I ask once more, what you think…“Do you believe in the ‘Here-After?” 

         

http://www.happy-science.org/death-and-the-afterlife

http://www.afterlifetv.com/2013/04/11/one-spirits-testimony-of-life-after-death/

http://www.bibleinfo.com/en/questions/what-does-bible-say-about-death

http://www.orlutheran.com/html/aftersoul.html

S & J Serenity Garden

S & J Serenity Garden

S & J Serenity Garden is the name I chose for the Memorial Garden.  Of course initials S & J are for Steve and Jeff.    It has taken me months to get to this point…you know…to be able to sit and reflect.  Reflect on the past and contemplate my future, or should I say the unknown.  Many tears have been shed while working on this garden, while shoveling dirt out of Steve’s truck (AKA ‘The Beast’), while stomping down the ground, and while sitting.  Although I have worked my butt off on this garden…I have finally reach a point where I can sit back, relax, enjoy this garden, and think…think about all that has happened in my life.  My initial goal was to reach this point for summer, but oh well…that just did not happen.  Oh well, it doesn’t matter, even though this Memorial Garden is not quite finished, it is done enough for me to sit and appreciate its beauty thus far.  It is done enough for me to sit on one of the benches and reflect.

I remember how anxious I was to unload my first truckload of topsoil.  And was shocked…actually astonished, to have to admit my body had broken down so much in the last year and a half.  I could not believe how weak I had become.  “Weak!  Me? Not possible”, is what I kept telling myself, “I can’t be weak, I have never been weak.”  But I was definitely nowhere as strong as I used to be, and I had to force myself to keep working…shovelful after shovelful of dirt until every bit of dirt was removed from the bed of the Beast.  I was using this topsoil to form my background mound for future flowers.  So when I say I unloaded…I didn’t just unload…I spread the dirt where I thought it was needed most and then I shaped the hill for my background.  I then stomped the dirt down, over and over, added more dirt and again stomped it down.  And then the next day I drove to retrieve the second yard of soil, and again unloaded the dirt shovelful by shovelful, until the entire two yards were in place and the hill was shaped just the way I wanted…and then I reshaped it again because I decided it was still not quite right, not large enough, not quite balanced.  I had my grandson help me move my statue (my 700 lb. statue) so she could be more centered, more balanced.  We only had to slide her a foot toward the center, but what a job that turned out to be!  But when my background was done, and my lady centered, what a great feeling this was…getting this back portion of my garden finished was exhilarating for me.  It made me feel renewed!   Made me feel like I had come alive again!  It gave me the incentive I needed to keep moving forward!

I was now ready to start working on the main patio area.  This little corner of my yard had been roped off months before.  I roped it off so my grandson would know where to start clearing grass.  Jake started clearing grass for me…but it didn’t take him long to realize it was not easy work, so he gave up on it.  I then paid a friend to help me clear the remaining grass.  Once the grass was cleared I was able to start my work.  Over and over I tilled the ground until it was soft enough to rake, taking out roots and rocks in the process, and trying to get it as even as possible.  Every day I raked dirt this direction and then that direction until I thought it was perfect…and then again I made it bigger, more balanced with the new mound in the background.  Once I had the size correct and the ground somewhat level I started tampering down the soil with a tool Dwaine made for me.  The tool consisted of a metal pole which was attached to the center of a solid metal plate weighing nearly 20 pounds.  The pole stands straight up about 4 feet from the metal plate.  I pull the tool toward the sky, then I let it drop full force onto the newly tilled soil until the soil was packed firmly.  Over and over I lifted the pole and let it drop until finally, after days of packing down the ground…I felt it was ready to start bringing in road mix. 

Over the next week I brought in four truckloads of road mix…and unloaded it all, shovel by shovel spreading it just so, until I was done with each load.  After each load was unloaded, I raked the topsoil into the entire area, putting more in areas where it was needed.  And with each unloading of road mix, I tampered down the ground using Dwaine’s tool.  Over and over I raked, tampered, watered.  And again raked, tampered, watered, and tampered some more until I could no longer lift the tool for the day.  After the third truckload was half empty I flopped down on Steve’s bench exhausted and crying…”I don’t think I can do this baby,” I cried aloud through heavy sobs.  I was talking to Jeff, crying…crying because he was gone and crying because I was too weak to complete my task.  Jeff instantly sent me a sign (I wrote about this in detail in an earlier blog)…and I could almost hear him saying aloud, “You can do it Mom.”  This vision sent me by Jeff was the remedy I needed to rejuvenate the energy needed to keep working…so I continued to shovel road mix out of the Breast…and then drove to pick up another load.

 

When the road mix was completely firm and the ground covered with weed cloth, it was time to start adding paving sand.  I went to and from the rock place to pick up four more loads of paving sand.  Again my days were as before, unloading shovelful by shovelful, tampering, watering, tampering, watering, and reflecting…over and over, day by day.  As I shoveled the last bit of my fourth load of paving sand out of the bed of the Beast I could tell the backs of my arms had become stronger.  I could see my forearms had developed slightly more muscles.  I felt stronger, far more energetic than I had felt for a long time…and definitely stronger than before I unloaded the first load of dirt.  I unloaded a total of ten truck beds of topsoil, road mix and paving sand…and now more than ever before, I now know I was unloading more than just dirt.  

I found my thoughts were clearer than they had been for a very long time.  And the fog…this fog…which had engulfed me in the last year and a half…this fog which has been playing havoc on my life over the past 18 months…I have now come to believe this fog has actually been surrounding me far longer than that.  Things happened recently that really made me see my surroundings as they truly are…as they have been, perhaps even before Jeff pass away.  I believe Jeff’s death was likely to have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, but I believe I have been living in this haze perhaps as far back as when Steve died.  Perhaps due to all the surroundings/circumstances of his death…and the family upheaval that happened the day he was buried.  All I know for sure, is my thoughts are now far clearer than they have been in years.  When Tina and a friend helped me clean the downstairs in my home recently, all the years of dust and dirt made me see things as they are…or possibly because of all this physical labor I have been doing out in the yard…I now see things as they are, for what they are in my present life.  I have avoided going downstairs for a very long time...I now know it was because of all the pictures.  All our family pictures which told a story of another time...another life.  What happened to all the people in those pictures?  I now know what Steve already knew before he died. 

My focus is now clear and I feel anew...I am once again cognizant of my surroundings and of my present state of mind.  Truer words have never been written by me.  This is how I feel these days.  Very awake.  Aware of all the things that happened after Steve died, and before Jeff died.  And I am very conscious of all things that happened shortly after Jeff died.  Although you can still find me with my phone in hand, hoping Jeff will be on the other end when it rings…I know it will never happen.  I have always been able to differentiate reality from my hopes, from my desires…but that didn’t stop me, and still doesn’t, from hoping I will one day wake from this horrific nightmare…or perhaps I should say, from this dreadful reality that just does not quit.

As I sit in my new garden I remember times, happier times when we were all laughing.  When did I stop laughing?  Sometimes I wonder if I can ever get that back, you know...the laughter.  Oh, I know at some point I will get it back.  Not as it was, you know…where we were all happy, all together…but I will be happy again, just in a different way, conceivably in a way life was meant for me to be.  This is something we never or at least rarely think about.  Life…what is its true meaning for us.  Or rather I should say, what is our true significance in this life?  I believe before this is all over…and before I live past this chapter of my life, I will know why I am here.  Before this ludicrous stage of my life is over, I will know my true function here…above ground…here, on earth.   

Once the ground of my garden was solid I was ready to lay rock.  I carefully chose the colors to lay so they will always intertwined with one another once laid.   I wrestled with each slab of granite until it was standing on end, and then I deliberately dropped the slab onto a large rock, watching as each slab of granite broke into several manageable pieces…pieces I could lift.  I gently place each piece of newly broken slab into this garden of love for my men.  At the end of each day, I filled each newly constructive section of granite slabs with sand, making sure the sand filled all the voids left between every edge of the granite.  With each grain of sand that filled the spaces…a piece of my heart was left in the ground for my guys.  The more sand I shoveled out of the bed of the Beast, the healthier I was becoming…both physically, and emotionally.  The harder I worked…the better I felt mentally.

With each rock laid into place, an old memory would show itself.  Almost as though I was unearthing, or perhaps reaching back…far back into my mind to reveal all the wonderful memories I spent with my family years before.  Every time I laid a rock in place in this garden I laid it carefully…not wanting to cover up any of the memories which were just unveiled.   I shed many tears with these memories…and I laughed aloud at some of these memories.  And at the end of each day’s work, I would sit and reflect on these fresh memories…not wanting to forget a single one of them.  As I sat there on either Steve’s or Jeff’s bench, I could see each of their smiles…each smile just as beautiful, as the other.  I could hear their laughter…I could see Jeff’s beautiful white teeth beaming through his smile, and the gold shimmer coming through Steve’s smile as I visualized them laughing.   I could see Jeff sitting on Steve’s lap at 2, at 7, at 16, and at 29 years of age.  It was his’ spot or so he always said.  Every time he sat on his father’s lap, Steve would massage his back.  It was only fitting…the day before Steve died he was lying in bed while Jeff and Ben gently massaged his legs, and with Tina tending to his needs.  I remember thinking it was the most endearing show of affection I had ever witnessed.  The two boys Steve could always count on, and Tina…those closest to him…were the only children by his side on his last days.  Ben is the only one of Steve’s oldest children who is still a part of my life now.  Steve told me he felt things would be this way…he predicted it would be as it is today.  He knew his children would not stay once he was gone.  He told me it would be me, Ben, Tina, Jeff…and no one else.  Steve knew...only now, Jeff too…is gone.

How I miss my family!  All the good times we shared, as well as some not so good times.  We were together, good or bad…we laughed through the best of times, and we rallied through the toughest of times.  “I miss those days…I miss my son.  I feel the need to hold him, to touch him…here in the flesh, here in real time.  I wonder if anyone, anyone at all can understand this.  These emotions that come and go…can anyone understand them?  Is there anyone out there who can relate to this at all?  Anyone?”  I feel a need to validate my emotions by others who have lost their only child.  Perhaps that is the reason I write…to reach out…to help others in my predicament…and to help myself emotionally…spiritually…mentally, and perhaps even physically…

The name I selected, ‘Serenity Garden’…lends itself to a place of peace, restfulness, and love.  I hope to have many new memories in this new beautifully built garden in my yard…happy memories.  After Steve passed away…this corner…his corner, has given me strength.  My hopes are that this newly built corner filled with love, will continue to give me strength when I am feeling down…when I feel the need to gain emotional strength in the future.  This corner of the yard was Steve’s favorite place to sit…he loved sitting here so he could watch the kids as they played volleyball, football, catch, croquet, or whatever, in this back area of the yard.  This was the area where the kids played games.  He sat on his bench and watched them as they played.  I remember one day when Steve became too ill and could no longer walk the length of the yard to get to his bench, the grandchildren had him sit in a wagon…”Sit here Grampa.  Sit here, we’ll pull you”…they then pulled the wagon, with Steve, beaming ear to ear…they pulled him to his bench at the far end of the half acre yard, so he could watch them play.  How fun is that memory?

I rediscovered Olgie while building this garden…I shed many tears and unearthed memories I had long forgotten.  I am able to see more clearly now.  I do not know what the future holds for me…but I now know I will be here for whatever the hell it is I am supposed to do in this life.  Who knows, perhaps this is what I am supposed to do…write…write my emotions down pen to paper, so others will know they are not alone in their own thoughts.    Earlier I wrote, I needed my thoughts, my emotions, validated….maybe it is I who is validating these same thoughts for others.

After Steve was gone life for me was difficult, both emotionally and financially.  I leaned on Jeff…a lot.  It wasn’t until Jeff came to visit that I understood how very much he missed his father.  When he visited me…I often found Jeff sitting in this corner…on Steve’s bench.  I knew he was sitting in this corner missing his father…just as I have been doing while building this garden, he too was remembering the past.  When Jeff discovered he had Parkinson’s disease he immediately came home…to catch his breath…and to sit on his father’s bench.  Over the years after Steve passed, I too, have found myself sitting in this corner.  After Jeff passed away this was where I came to sit.  This is the reason I selected this corner for my garden…it is a secluded corner, surrounded by trees and shrubs, invisible to the neighbors, with sounds of running water from the stream of our pond.  This was a place of peace for both my guys…this is a tranquil place for me.  It was my hopes to have this garden completed during the summer, that did not happen...but it is done, and just in time…to get the yard ready for winter.  Meanwhile, I will sweep off the fallen leaves…and I will continue to explore my memories.