I have never been a fan of supernatural stories. In fact, I don't listen to ghost stories which are a favorite at overnight parties and even weekend retreats. This was because I was easily scared as a child. Once, I even got sick with fever after my uncle scared me with his Halloween mask. Since then, I have tried to avoid horror movies, as my creative imagination only added to my misery. I also learned in my campus Catholic community that I should indeed avoid movies that glorified evil.
Last night, I learned that the mother of my college friend passed away. I went to the wake, together with a common friend. I was not able to meet her when she was alive, but this lawyer looked like she lived a full life. Pictures of her colorful life filled the room, along with beautifully-arranged flowers from her family and friends. Talking to the family she left behind, I could feel that she was at peace. They were proud of her because of the many people she helped with her pro bono work.
On our way home, however, we smelled flowers in the car. The last time I bought sampaguita for the car was about two weeks ago. We then prayed, for we knew there was something going on though we could not see what it was; neither could we understand why it was happening to us. Based on the peace that we felt after our prayer, we had the courage to drive into the night. Maybe Tita Josie just wanted to thank us for visiting her and for praying for her. When we reached my friend's house, the scent of flowers was gone. It was a strange experience, but I was not as scared as I thought I would be.
I refuse to analyze what happened because it is beyond the realm of my understanding anyway.