Thursday, November 19, 2015

A Strange Tapping at the Window


A curious thing happened tonight while I was sitting alone at the kitchen table writing. It was raining out so the rain was a pleasant background noise. I had sent a message to my friend Carol to let her know that two packages were being shipped to her home in Nashua tomorrow. Her mother had passed away on Saturday. We attended the funeral yesterday. When I got home I sent a donation in memory of her mother to the hospice facility where she died. Then I decided that I wanted to do something for her and for her daughter Emily who is our goddaughter, so I went to the local Memory Lane lamps website and ordered a Memory Lap for her with a beautiful shade with flowers and butterflies on it. Then I chose a butterfly-shaped light called Angel Wings Butterfly for Emily.

I'd sent a message earlier this evening to let Carol know to watch for the packages as packages have been stolen from her neighbors porches recently.

I was typing when suddenly there was a series of taps on the dining room window as if someone was standing out on the deck tapping on the window with a finger. It was loud enough that my husband heard if from the living room. And the cats also heard it and came to investigate the sound. Both of them sat on the file box on the stool I have in front of the window so they can bird watch when they get bored (they're indoor cats). The tapping was obviously something since all three humans and both cats heard it and knew it came from the dining room window. I had gotten up and turned on the deck light and there was nothing outside.

And then I received a message from Carol letting me know that she had gotten my message.

It made me wonder if Carol's Mom had come to say goodbye to me before leaving this plane for the next. It was just the sort of tapping sound someone would make to catch a person's attention. It was odd that it happened just before Carol's message came through- when her thought were heading this way after mine had gone her way a little earlier.

There have been no more taps and everything is now quiet.

(I wonder if a curious phenomena like this happened to Edgar Allen Poe and inspired The Raven?)

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