Skip to main content

See also:

Farewell to a Mother

The author in the arms of his mother.
R. Hinton

In A personal note….I wrote on my mother’s rapidly declining health and the apparent paranormal ramifications in her home as a result. It all came to a culmination on Thursday, July 31, 2014, when Bobbie J. Hinton slipped from this world into the next. During the daytime hours her breathing had been labored with the rattle of her lungs filled with fluid. However, the evening hours were a different animal—quiet and peaceful, and that dreaded rattle had stopped. My brother and I were by her side when she took her last breath. I glanced up at the clock; it was 8:00 PM.

The funeral was held two days later in her hometown of Jamestown, Kentucky. An outpouring of family and friends came to pay respect and reveal their memories. There was never any question that I would not speak; I had to. It was a passage between my mother and me, and family and friends that had come to pay tribute:

“When we were kids, my brother Kerry and I and our cousins, would make the trip down to Jamestown from Indianapolis—and in a youngster’s mind it would take forever—twisting along those curving Kentucky back roads along State Route 61, passing through Hodgenville, Greensburg and Columbia. It must have seemed forever to my mom also, but finally we would roll into Jamestown and she would be home!

Jamestown is where she was born, where she grew up, where she went to school, and where she dreamed of the prospect of her future life. But often we leave our home—mom did—only in the end to come back to what is familiar…what is comfortable.

Mom was a person of excesses, displayed by the number of bushes and shrubbery planted around her house; cutting her lawn sometimes two times in a week; by the amount of furniture and “items” in her home; by her rapid fire observation when something was not quite in its proper place. And her cooking! There was no such thing as a simple meal.

All of these became an extension of her personality—a part of who she was. This was Bobbie Joann Hinton.

Mom revealed in her childhood home, and while things don’t sometimes go as planned, she readjusted and grew comfortable in a less hectic pace of life and in the love and support of her family and friends.

When she became sick it turned into a situation no one would wish upon themselves, or anybody else for that matter. She became trapped in her own body, with only her thoughts and memories. Her days of excesses had come to an end. We brought her home and always tried to do the best for her as we could, but never felt it was enough.

Mom was finally released from the prisoner of her body and is with our Lord. She can once again walk, talk, and most importantly—smile and laugh. Her passing is not an end but a new beginning!

Mom’s greatest excess was her love for her family and friends. It’s what kept her going. Thank you for coming and sharing her memory.”

The tire tracks in the grass of her front lawn resulting from the funeral director’s van for now remain. As are the tracks from the contractor’s vehicle presently re-shingling the roof. The home is going through a transformation with a new roof. Mom has also gone through a transformation, now able to run on legs that will carry her through the grass and sunshine of a Kentucky afternoon back into a world she lost some five years ago.

The tire tracks in the grass will fade in time. My mother lives on in my memories.

My mother arrived in Washington Park East Cemetery in Indianapolis Tuesday, August 5, at 1:00PM. She was personally transported from Jamestown by the funeral director. My brother and I were there to see her off.

As I sat at her grave site I contemplated her ivory white casket with the rose etchings (a duplicate of the one her mother was buried in) and hoped I had honored her last wishes. I reflected on the song played at her service—one of two requests that she had bestowed on me many years ago—Bette Midler’s “The Rose.” The other was that she be buried next to my father in Indiana. I feel that I have made her happy.

And of the house in Kentucky and the current state of the paranormal? There is a noticeable change. The “heavy” feel has dissipated, now being light, clear and airy. For the first time in many years it feels as if you can catch your breath. There is definitely a different atmosphere. However, time will tell. And time we have. The house will continue to remain with my brother and me.

To receive email notification when a new article from this author is posted, click the SUBSCRIBE button. It’s free, effortless, and somewhat fun.