He heard the noises and crackling that at the time were typical of long-distance calls, then suddenly a loud, clear voice that couldn't be but the voice of uncle Aldo: "Vittorio, Vittorio! I am Aldo! I'm well! I'm well! (Sto bene!)"I loved this post! Thank you.
My father in law had polio as a child. It left him crippled in one leg and with a weak heart. That did not stop him from marrying and producing two strapping men. This was not a religious family. They lived up in the foothills of Italy; simple country folk. Their 'house' was centuries old with a corner fireplace in the kitchen in front of which hung a hook for the stew pot. They 'modernized' the kitchen in the early part of the 20th century by installing a wood burning stove. Well ... you get the picture of what life was like in this town. The one and only church was also ancient, built into the walls adjacent to the castle. The priest assigned to the church had been there for decades and was a crotchety and miserable man.
When my father in law died, the priest refused him a funeral at the town church. The family had to make arrangements to transport him to another town for the funeral. This was early December. My husband insisted that we spend Christmas with his mother. In that part of the world, when there is a death, there is no celebration of anything, for 12 months. On Christmas Day, the butcher across the street ran into my inlaws house screaming my mother in law's name. When he finally calmed down, he said he had a dream about my father in law. "He was sitting on a bench, with no cane, and a big smile on his face."
These country people are not ones to believe in the supernatural. So you can imagine how this 'message' was received .. and on Christmas day!!