Her Deceased Husband Switched On The Kettle

I nursed Mike single-handed throughout his illness as I couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from him. He died very peacefully sitting next to me, holding my hand, in his favourite chair, four days after his 60th birthday.

I was heartbroken and, as I stroked his hair as he took his last breath, I said: “Promise you’ll always be with me Mike.” Today I am positive he is.

A week after he died, I was trying to stick four tiles to the wall in the downstairs bathroom, because they’d fallen off. Often my eldest son, Steve, would call in to see me on his way to business meetings for a quick coffee and chat.

This particular morning, I was getting distressed as I couldn’t get the tiles to stick. I suddenly cried out: “Oh Mike, if you were here you’d know what to do – and you’d be making me a cup of tea, wouldn’t you?”

Within a couple of minutes, I heard the sound of the kettle in the kitchen. I waited (still in the bathroom) until I heard it click off, then called out to my son: “Steve, will you make the tea and coffee please?”, thinking he had called in.

There was no reply, so I got off my knees and went to the kitchen – but there was no one around and the back door was locked. I went over to the kettle, which was still steaming and scolding hot. The last time the kettle had been used was for my breakfast at 7.30am – and it was now 11,15am.

I froze, but then a lovely warm feeling came over me. I said: “Is that you, Mike?” and I bawled my eyes out. So yes, there is life after death. I’m so relieved because I know that I will see my beloved Mike again.

~ Anne Ashe