Sunday, August 2, 2015

The Ghosts Among Us

For the past couple of years, I've joked about the ghost in my house.

Some of my friends believe I moved into a 'haunted house' two years ago, but I sometimes wonder if 'something' didn't simply follow us from the old house, as we had a few unexplained experiences there also.

I've always believed in ghosts, spirits, or whatever you want to call them. Both good and bad.

I also believe animals can sense these spirits, and saw this first hand one night a few years ago, when my dog started staring at, then growling at the old antique rocking chair across the room. She slowly got up off the couch, and made her way over to the chair, all the while never losing sight of it, and growling intensely.

At an empty chair. For no reason.

She didn't stop when I called her name. She didn't stop when I said, 'Stop! It's OK, Girl!'. She didn't stop until I physically coaxed her upstairs, away from the chair.

Something she didn't like was in that chair.

The ghosts among us.

Since being in this new house, I've caught the animals staring intently at things that weren't there. Or at least not that I couldn't see, anyway.

I've had things disappear. Some to reappear in different places, others to simply vanish, never to be seen again. And no, I don't believe it was my kids.

I've heard noises coming from under my bed, and told myself it was simply the cat, only to realize a minute later that the cat was outside.

I've had my bed creek and groan, with the weight of someone (or something) getting on or off, thinking it was the dog, only to look over and find I'm the only one in the room.

I left the house one day to run a quick errand. The house was quiet when I left, but as soon as I got home and got out of the car, I could hear it. The music blaring inside the house. The only one home was the dog.

None of this has really 'scared' me, because I don't think the ghost means us harm; despite the fact the song that was blaring was 'Bloody Well Right' (Supertramp). At least it has good taste in music.

And most recently, I was poked.

I was alone in the house one night, folding laundry in my room, when all of a sudden I felt a poke to my back. It was hard enough to make me jump, and turn around, once again to find out I was completely alone.

Except for the dog, who was staring at something behind me, that wasn't there.

I'll admit, that one kind of freaked me out. Just a little.

I also believe we have guardian angels, and I've had too many close calls that should have ended badly, but didn't, for anyone to convince me otherwise.

I think for the past 13yrs, one of these guardian angels has been my father.

July 6th, was the 13th anniversary of my father's death. And after all these years, although the pain isn't as searing as it was that day, it still hurts, and I still miss him.

And I still think about him. Especially on THAT day.

For the most part, it was a quiet day this year. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until that evening.

I couldn't sleep and was on the computer around 2am when all of a sudden, the music started blaring from my ipod in the kitchen. FULL blast.

I jumped up, ran to the kitchen, quickly killed the music by hitting 'pause' on the little monster, and then just stood there for a second.

Staring at it.

How … why … ?

And then I turned the volume all the way down. Just in case.

And then stared at it some more.

Then went back to my room and tried not to think about what had just happened.

It remained silent for the rest of the night.

I listen to my music on a daily basis. The ipod has never turned itself on at 2am before.


And there's no random 'sleep' or alarm feature on the docking station which would have done so, either.

I thought it was strange, but didn't make a connection to my father, until the next day, while talking about the 'freaky 2am happenings' with a friend, who pointed out to me that given the day, it might have been Dad, just saying 'hi'.

And the more I think about it, the more I tend to agree.

Dad knew I loved my music, and loved it loud. In the house, car, on foot with my walkman (you young'uns can google that one) … I always had my music. Loud.

It was a great way to get my attention after a day spent missing him.

Just saying 'hi'.

I like that.

And if nothing else, now on his anniversary, I'll think of that 2am music blast and smile. Just in case it was him.

Because it's comforting to think he may still be around, looking out for his little girl.

But next year, Dad, feel free to say 'hi', without scaring the crap out of me in the middle of the night.

If it wasn't Dad … stop messin' with my music, Ghost!

And bring back that phone book that mysteriously disappeared!

M'kay? M'kay!