Okay- I'm going away from my usual topics and am going to write about something that I don't really believe in. I'd like to say that I don't believe at all, but why write about it, then? For instance, I won't write a blog post about Bigfoot, although right now it is a weekly topic at our household. I'm not a cynical person by nature but some things... yeah...just not happening for me.
I'm not a believer in ghosts. Never really wanted to believe in them, until my Mom passed away. Then I started to wish that they were real. I wanted to believe. Badly. I can't tell you the amount of times I've asked her to give me a sign to let me know that she is still with me- to feel her embrace when I need it the most. I've had a few little things happen that I started to chalk up to it being my Mom trying to reach out to me. I think it was wishful thinking though. I saw things because I wanted to so desperately.
I did see her once. When I was running the Marine Corp Marathon, at about mile 24, there was a woman in the crowd that looked so much like her. She had the same mannerisms. The same stance. She was eating something and leaning over a stand. She looked straight into my eyes and said "You are doing great. You can do it". She smiled at me, and then looked down... and then I lost her. Cue sad music. I felt deeply lost and bewildered at that moment in time. It shook me. I kept thinking "Damn. That sure looked like my Mom". I kept running and it was a welcome distraction to get me through the finish. I told a friend about it a month or so afterwards and said how much this lady reminded me of my Mom. She said "Maybe it was your Mom". Puzzle pieces fitting together suddenly. It all felt right. So... maybe? I choose to believe that it was my Mom. It's the closest thing yet.
But I'm not writing this because of that incident. I am writing this because I do believe that there is a ghost in our house. I don't think it's a mean, movie-kind-of-ghost. Or a sappy help-me-find-my-loved-one ghost. Or a somebody-done-me-wrong-song kind of ghost. But I feel there is something here.
Twice I have come out of a dead sleep because I felt someone was standing beside me. And I have clearly heard a man speak to me. The first time he said my name. Two nights ago, he said "hello beautiful". Both times it has scared me so badly that I haven't been able to get back to sleep. Both times I thought that someone was in the house and was hiding. I stayed awake, waiting for some kind of movement or the onset of a brutal battle. I've probably read one too many scary books. Both times have been when the night light in the bathroom has burnt out so it is unusually dark in here. It makes me feel like a child again, scared of the dark and paralyzed by fear. But when I really got to thinking about it, I chose to believe that it's a ghost. Sure- it's most likely just my over- tired brain... echos of conversations past. Bits and pieces of memories knitting into a new tapestry.... or... a ghost. A ghost that feels more comfortable when it's just he and I. He also prefers the dark. I've talked myself into feeling a little better about it. While I may be a little bit of a believer now, I still don't believe in bad or mean ghosts. Maybe just a presence that likes to reach out once in awhile. To feel connected to what once was. I don't know. But I'm not as scared now.
...I will be buying new night lights, though. Just sayin'....
Do you believe in ghosts?
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