Welcome Lou to the PNF. I hope the members and guests here can help bring you some relief.
The difficult part about these kinds of occurrences is that, though many of us experience them, we are still uncertain of the exact causes. However, we do have some fairly well practices processes for how to mitigate, prevent, or control some of them; and, we freely speculate and share our ideas for “how” these events occur.
For the moment, you should know that you are free to share here with the trust that we will not ridicule you. We will provide whatever support that we can. It will probably help us to help you if you will post more details about those events which you have the strongest memories of. Very short statements are sometimes easy to accidentally take out of context.
Thank you for commenting! I will be sharing more in depth about the occurrences stated in the original post within the thread when I have time to get to them all
I will elaborate on the pet statement, as it was a very vivid memory dealing with death for the very first time. I will also explain my great grandmother's funeral.
Until I was about 8, I was very confused about the finality of death because the explanation did not match what I was experiencing. I remember the first time my mom sat me down and explained what death was. I was 5, and our dog passed away. She explained that when a living thing dies, we have to say goodbye because their body has worn out and their spirit goes to Heaven. She then took me to see the dog, and showed me that it was "dead". She explained that dead meant the body is still, and that once something was dead it would never wake up again. My dad buried the dog in our yard, and showed me that was what was done once something had died. I was sad, because I understood what they were saying paired with what I was being shown. Of course, until the next morning when the dog was going about it's normal routine. I saw it running outside around the play area my parents had set up for our 2 dogs. It even chased the other dog like it used to, and the actual living dog ran from it and barked like it had every other time they played together. I was immediately confused, and asked my mom why she said that the dog would never wake up again when she was clearly outside running around. My mom had no idea what I was talking about, and explained things again. She told me it was okay to miss our dog, but nothing can bring her back and that it was okay to be sad, but I still needed to understand I would never see her again. I kept seeing her until my parents got rid of all her old toys, dog bed, and changed the location of the play area in the yard.
When my great grandmother passed away, she was very old, almost 97. She was frail, and needed a wheelchair and live-in nurse for the last year or so of her life. I remember her very well, because my family would take me to visit her and she would let me play with her porcelain dolls she never let anyone else touch, and spoil me with cookies, homemade candies, and cakes. I was the first great granddaughter, so she always called me "her favorite girl". When she passed away, I was 8 years old. At the time, it was the first funeral I had ever attended. I remember going to the viewing, and there being so many people in the funeral home. There was a mix though, happiness and sadness. The people I came with were all very sad, but the people in the other room seemed to be laughing. I went to one of the more joyous rooms while my family visited the wake, and I saw something I will never forget. My great grandmother was -standing- there, dressed in the same clothes she often wore for holidays or special occasions, talking with people I did not recognize. I walked over to them, and she turned around and took my hand, and smiled at me. "There's my favorite girl!" she said. She told everyone there how much she loved me and how wonderful it was to have gotten to know me, and how much fun we always had at her house when I would come visit. She then said it was time for me to go be with my family, to comfort them and told me to go back to the other room, so I said goodbye and I did. I sat on the bench in the lobby for the rest of the time. When we got home, I asked my mom why she cried the whole time and didn't go say hello to great grandma in the other room. Of course she had no idea what I was talking about. We never talked about it again, and I have not told anyone since because no, that is not how funerals normally work at all.