I believe in ghost. I believe that one can be both Spirit filled as well as spirit visited. I speak from experience. Allow me to clarify…
Those spirits or ghosts which I have known were not ‘spooks.’ They were far from beings which go bump in the night or send your head beneath the covers in fear. No, my ghost have all been non-threatening, beneficial spirits – friendly, and welcomed. They’ve been family.
This first up close and personal spirit visitation I’ll relate – occurred inside the house of God, a church. This was between the time in which my father and mother passed away. The occasion was the marriage of our youngest daughter, Molly. My Dad had always felt especially close to Molly. Of course, she was quite disappointed that he’d not lived to experience her engagement and marriage. After walking down the aisle and giving the young bride away, I sat down beside Carol. Soon after I sat down, I felt my father make his way past me, to sit between her mother and me. My Dad was a creature of habit. For as long as I can remember he’d always used Old Spice after shave. That specific aroma, mixed with that of his own, made for a very, distinctive smell. Dad sat quietly beside me throughout the wedding. I could FEEL his presence! I could SMELL the sweet aroma of his person. And, I was so thankful that he’d made his presence known! Molly, I thought, would be so happy that he’d been there after all! I know my father was there.
I was a second child. My older sister was birthed almost 5 years before me. She never experienced the first breath of life, for she was still-born. That’s her picture in the heading, taken October 15, 1916, the day after her birth and death. Dad died of a heart attack in 1995. Carol and I rented out our home and moved in with Mom. A few months later, Mom was diagnosed with bronchiolar cancer. She lived less than a year. Months before Mom died, she told us that she’d had a visitor during the night. She’d been awakened by the hand of a child gently patting her arm. She turned to see a young girl standing beside the bed. “Mom,” the girl spoke, “Everything’s going to be OK.” Mom said she rubbed her eyes, thinking it was a dream. When she opened them, the girl had vanished. What remained, was a tremendous calm and peace. My older sister had brought a message of reassurance to our dying mother.
Frankly, I have not the slightest clue as to the what or why of this next ghostly encounter, only a hope. Carol and I bought my sister’s half inheritance in the old home place, and we lived there for several years. One old and tattered piece of furniture in the bedroom was a chifferobe, the very first piece of furniture my parents purchased when they were married in 1935. We still have it. The ‘chifferobe thing’ continued to happen for many years.
It has a square, mirrored door on the top left, opening to what was probably intended for hat storage. Under that door are four pull-out drawers. Carol uses these for socks and such. The right side has a full-length mirrored door. This mirror is great for checking clothing. Inside, there’s a clothes-hanger rod. It’s a quite useful piece of furniture. The ‘chifferobe-thing’ happened with me in the room, and sometimes with present Carol also. It wasn’t the wind. It happened indoors, ceiling fan off, windows closed. And it wasn’t caused by flooring that wasn’t level. I can tell you more of what it wasn’t than what it was.
Every so often, at least every other month, sometimes twice in a month… sometimes in daylight, and sometimes at night… there was never a rhyme, reason, or schedule… but the full length right hand door would slowly open. Not just a crack. It would OPEN. Gravity, you say. Not. For it would then, slowly CLOSE! On it’s own. This happened over and over and over again. I won’t even speculate as to what caused this. But… I never felt the slightest inkling of apprehension or fear, no discomfort. Crazy as it may sound, it almost felt ‘comforting’ to me, as if Mom were in the room looking again for something in that old chifferobe.
True, this story has an aura of ‘spookiness,’ and mystery. But I never felt a NEED to know what was causing this strange furniture-anomaly. It never bothered me. It did this in my parent’s old home, and continued when we moved it with us to our new home in Ridgeland, MS But, it ceased this strange behavior after our move to Illinois. I rather miss that. I really do.
Pen In Hand 