Auntie Doris: life on the Other Side #9: Angels

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There are loads of people who believe in Angels. Guardian Angels they call them. By which they mean, someone on the other side, who watches over them, and sort of keeps them out of trouble and the like. And I suppose that it’s true. People on this side can have a limited effect on events in the realm of the living, and many use that ability to help out their still alive friends and relatives in small ways, long after they have gone.
Let’s get one thing straight though. I’m not talking about Fairy Godmothers, who can make you horses and carriages out of pumpkins and white mice or any of that nonsense. Ohh no. If you want to get on in the world, then you have to stand on your own two feet, and ruddy well give those ugly sisters a telling. I’m not manifesting myself with a ruddy magic wand to sort out your personal problems for you. I’ve done my bit in the realm of the living, thank you very much. Once you get roped into domestic situations like that, there’s no telling where it will end. Besides, there’s two sides to every story, and what if those sisters of yours had people of their own pulling strings for them in the afterlife? Before you knew it, the petty day to day problems of the living would have spread over into the other side and there would be no benefit at all in having passed over. So you can unthink that thought as soon as you’ve thunk it.
No, what I’m thinking about is more the kind of scenario where someone on the other side notices that there is say, a loose tile or something, above her nephew’s front door, and they realise that if he slams the door behind him when he leaves for work in the morning, he will probably dislodge it and it will come crashing down on his head and cause him a ruddy injury. That someone on the other side might manage to somehow influence their nephew’s mind that morning and make him go out of the back door for a change. Then he might come home from work in the evening to find that the tile has indeed come down in his absence. He might also be contacted by the Royal Mail, telling him that he is being held personally responsible for the damage caused to the postman’s skull when he was hit by the tile whilst trying to force a copy of Transformation Magazine through the letterbox. That nephew ought to thank his Guardian Angel that it isn’t him in intensive care.
He might also think about keeping on top of simple household maintenance jobs in future, rather than lolling about the house watching rubbish on the television. But there won’t be much time for that in the near future he will have his work cut out preparing his defence for the forthcoming negligence case. But that’s another story. The postman’s Guardian Angel was obviously having a day off on that particular occasion.
Tomorrow I will be looking at matters a bit closer to home, when I ask, “Whatever Happened to my Raymond?”
If you are personally affected by any of these life after death scenarios, or have inadvertently wounded a postman, or any other doorstep caller, do get in touch. Your old Auntie would love to hear from you.

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