Feeling my grandmother’s presence.

On July 13, just over a year after my grandmother passed away, my other grandmother and my last surviving grandparent, passed away. She was affectionately known in my family as Oma.

For the second time in 14 months, I flew back to Chicago for the funeral. Same funeral home, same church, same pastor. I still recalled the strange occurrence last year during my other grandmother’s wake when one of the floor lamps in the room mysteriously went out and towards the end of the wake, turned back on, all by itself. There was no doubt in my mind that it was Grandma, probably doing a little dusting.

There was nothing mysterious like that at Oma’s wake. The wake and funeral services themselves off without a hitch, in fact, seemed a little too uneventful other than the usual flow of tears. I was on the lookout for anything strange to indicate that her spirit was present but I just didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. You’d think she’d be there to hear all the loving tributes to her. But I just didn’t feel that presence.

It wasn’t until this morning at work that I truly got a jolting sign of Oma’s presence, one that left me feeling spooked out and awed at the same time. No way was this a coincidence.

This morning I showed up for work as usual and began my shift. When it came time for me to take my morning break, I got up and left the call room, passing by a fellow agent making coffee at the coffee maker. Just a typical morning no different from any other morning.

A few minutes later, as I re-entered the call room, I passed by the same coffee maker and noticed a small bag of coffee resting on the table beside it. The bag had some brand name printed on it and I merely glanced at it as I walked past. Seconds later I did a double take and wasn’t sure if my mind was playing tricks on me. No way was the brand name was what I thought it was. By that time I was seated at my cubicle and from there I tried to see if I could see that small bag of coffee from where I was sitting. While I could see the bag, I could not see the printing on it. So I went on another break just to walk up to the coffee machine and observe the brand name printed on the bag of coffee.

That’s when I saw it.

That’s also when a chill ran up my spine and the biggest smile formed on my face.

Out of all the coffee brand names in the world, the one chosen to fulfill the agents’ coffee needs that morning was…

…Oma Coffee.

libra cafe oma

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