Papa Cowboy: Part 1

It bothers me that I can’t just contact a loved one that has passed away, any time I want. Maybe it’s in the medium handbook somewhere, or maybe it’s just me. I have had visitations from relatives when I have needed a little extra guidance or a warning, but they usually just say what they have to say and then disappear. I have also had a loved one show up and ask me to give someone they love a message. This story is about a loved one who showed up when I really needed the comfort and guidance.

When my ex-husband’s step-father died, he left a huge hole in the family. My ex and I had been divorced for awhile, but I would get to see his step-dad at all the boy’s sporting events. He was such a nice man, and so wonderful to my boys, and of course his two other grandchildren. When I think of him, I picture him up on one of his horses, cowboy hat on, wrangler jeans with his big cowboy belt buckle, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Oh, and a pair of beautiful cowboy boots. That is why I am going to call him Papa Cowboy.

After he passed away, I used to hope he would come to me with a message for the family. His wife told me that for a while after he passed, she could feel him in the house. She would notice things were moved or his drawer in the kitchen that he kept his cigarettes in would be pulled open. Little signs here and there. Then as time went on, and she moved on, it stopped. Then finally, he came to visit me. He came when he knew I really needed it.

I was stressed! I hadn’t slept in days. My youngest son told me that he and a friend were renting Harley Davidson motorcycles for that coming Saturday. I went crazy town on him (Momma Bear status). I am not a fan of street bikes!!! Especially since I have talked to spirits that died from motorcycle accidents, and usually their deaths were not their fault.

I tried everything to change his mind. He was over 18 and determined to do this. It was a dream of his, so he says (as I am writing this, I am mad and rolling my eyes, and growling under my breath). UGH!!

Saturday came. My Momma Bear attitude was on full tilt. I made him crazy before he left (that’s my job). I followed him around giving him orders: Go slow! Stay away from cars! Be very alert! Watch your surroundings! … etc. … etc. Then he left. If I didn’t have to go to work that day and it wasn’t morning, I would of had a glass of wine. Or two!!

On my drive to work, I was so distracted. So stressed. So worried. Then I could smell cigarette smoke, or how someone smells after smoking a cigarette. It wasn’t coming from outside, it was in my car. Then I could feel the static electricity on my right side. It was Papa Cowboy. He was in my backseat. His energy was so calm and he had a little grin on his face. I could feel him put his hand on my shoulder, then he said, “You need to calm down, he will be fine, I promise.” Then he was gone.

I had to pull over. I was crying and yelling for him to come back. I had questions for him, but he did not come back. I knew right then that Papa Cowboy was my son’s guardian angel, which I am sure he is for all four of his grandkids. He knew I needed that message and I know he road on that motorcycle with my son all day.

My son came home in one piece and he had an amazing day. He was still on my poo poo list, but man, I was happy when he walked through that door. Thank you Papa Cowboy, for watching over my boy.

 

 

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