My Life With Ghosts: My Daughter’s Dream and Other Events

 

My Life with Ghosts: My Daughter’s Dream and Other Events

fullsizerenderA sampling of some of the 100’s of pieces of old ephemera found in ‘The House’

In the hard time of night, when I suddenly find myself awake and pondering all that has taken place, I think of things. I think of all those who have come and gone. I daydream of Mrs. Warner and of her exotic 1920’s travels to the Orient, Egypt and beyond. {Mrs. Warner was a dear friend of Lee’s grandmother and many of her things ended up in our possession}. I worry about our packed attic and basement and how I can possibly ever make sense of it all. And I think how life can often be tough.

But during the day, as I navigate my travels about my house, tripping over Barbie dolls and plastic dinosaurs and the toys of our newest friend, Emma, a dog which we recently took into our family, I think how life is also very good.

Over the years, our family of four has been augmented with the acquisition of a dog, two cats, several pet fish, and many millipedes, and collectively, all this life seems to be causing the ghosts to drift further and further away. There is simply no longer room for the dead here.

But apparently, even a house full of life is not enough to keep the spirits at bay. To my consternation, the strange dreams and inexplicable occurrences have returned. The following is a continuation of my documentation of those events that pertain to ghosts and which include both dreams and actual occurrences…

July, 2006: Uncle Martin                                                                                               It was the middle of summer when I was standing at the bathroom window that overlooked the backyard. I glanced out towards the bamboo thicket, as I often did, when suddenly, I saw a shadowy figure of a man crossing our yard. The “apparition,” which lasted no longer than a fraction of a second, was walking among the remains of a rose garden. He was a desolate figure, tall and thin, and dressed in a loose-fitting dark suit. As he walked, he was slightly bent with his face turned down, completely wrapped up in his sad solitude. Intuitively, I felt it must be Uncle Martin, for it had been Martin who had originally planted and nurtured the gardens from long ago .

But upon reflection, I sensed that it had not been an actual figure in the yard that I had seen. It was as if somehow, the veil of present time was peeled back and I was allowed to see for a very brief moment, a glimpse of the world as it was in the past.
I later described the man to Lee and he was chilled by my words. Lee told me that Martin typically wore his overalls and wingtips to do his gardening, but for his editing job at the paper, he would wear a suit–the same kind of suit I had seen in my vision.

Once, many years earlier, we had run into Uncle Martin at a local grocery store. I have a vague recollection of having to look way up at this tall gentleman. He had broad shoulders, gray hair, and a distinguished presence. It was the first and last time I’d ever see him. The apparition which I saw in our yard decades later was a younger, thinner version of the man whom  I’d met in the store.
Sadly, at the end of his life, Martin, like his mother Lessie, began to go blind from glaucoma. Depressed over his condition, he killed himself. And I had to ask…had Martin returned to find solace among the gardens that he had once loved so much?

September 2006: The Answer
Towards the end of September 2006, I was getting my son back to sleep after he had awakened in the middle of the night. I ended up falling asleep myself and had a dream that his bedroom door began to slowly open. The door blocked sight of who or what was entering the room. As it swung open, the room grew brighter, being illuminated by whatever it was that was entering.
Somehow I understood that the answer to the mystery of what had been taking place in our house was about to be answered—I would finally know what all the paranormal activity was about. But just as the entity entered, it exploded into a wild scramble of images and noises, like a churning, black and white cubist painting gone berserk. I woke up both relieved–I would not have to face my fears on this particular night; and disappointed–the answer to the mystery of our house still eluded me.

October 2006: The Circle Ghost
Once again, my son woke up in the night. Again, while trying to get him back to sleep, I fell asleep myself. While there, my son had a bad dream which awakened me. As I opened my eyes, I saw a wispy, gray circular loop about two feet in diameter hovering over me. In the center of the loop was what looked like a hand. It was extended out above my body as if about to grab me. I cowered low under the covers to escape its touch. I closed my eyes tightly as I went back to sleep, shutting out “The Circle Ghost’s” power.

My daughter’s dream:
Probably more frightening to me than anything else we’ve experienced is when these events happen to my children. For my children know nothing of our paranormal experiences since moving here, and it seems to only confirm my worst fears about our house. My daughter’s experience frightened me to the core for it was so similar to what had been happening to Lee and me. Early one morning before it was light, she called out for me. When I got to her, she told me that she had just had a bad dream. She added that as she was waking up, she felt someone poke at her leg. How many times since we’ve lived here have we felt something pull at our hair, breathe on our neck, or touch us? Lee told me that his dad, Harold, used to wake him up that way—not with a gentle shake on the arm but with a series of rough pokes. Katie sleeps in what was once Harold’s bedroom. Perhaps he was trying to help her by arousing her from her bad dream?

Angelic lights:
On several occasions, both before and after the arrival of Emma, I have experienced what I can best describe as angelic lights. On this particular occasion the “encounter” was the most defined to date. I was in a fairly deep sleep when I was awakened by what felt like a non-threatening presence. As I slowly went from a deep sleep state to a state of alertness, I became aware of a glowing, warm light near my bed. It felt peaceful and sheltering. By the time my eyes opened, it was gone. Like so many times before, I asked myself: was it just a dream?

 

November 13, 2006: Is someone there?
I was having a fitful night with a series of nightmares that were accompanied with that now familiar cold, prickly skin feeling I get when the “spirits” are at work. And each time I woke up, I feared what I might see as I opened my eyes. The finale to my uneasy evening was a dream where I finally brought myself to face my fears…
I was in a room that I was not familiar with. Before me was a brown leather chair. As I looked at it, the cushion suddenly depressed, then rose back up as if an invisible person had just sat down, then stood back up. I went to the chair and made myself sit in it. I gripped the arms of the chair as I faced squarely towards the darkness of the near empty room.
And I made myself do the thing I feared the most. I shouted out: “Is someone there?” Before me materialized the ghostly figure of Lee’s father, Harold. He was red-faced and muttered about something which had angered him. I had seen Harold like that in real life on many occasions. But the angry Harold disappeared and was replaced by a kind Harold who appeared as a reflection on a T.V. screen. He was now holding Luc, who was crying. Harold comforted him. This is the Harold I knew at the end of his life, when his anger had melted away and an almost angelic spirit took hold of him. I interpreted the dream to mean that finally I had the strength to face my fears.

December 9, 2006: The Hand
I was having a hard time sleeping and had been awake from midnight until about 2:30 or 3:00 when I finally fell back asleep. But it was not a restful sleep. I dreamed I was in a house with many rooms. It was not a place I knew. It was possibly a house that combined many of the homes I’ve known throughout the years.
I was leading my parents through the house. Neither spoke—they simply followed me. In one room there were numerous lit candles and lights. I turned out the lights and blew out the candles. I then went to another room where I could hear a huge wind blowing overhead. A man cried out from above: “Hurry! It’s howling up here!” I begin the ascent with my parents up the ladder towards the next level of the house. I felt like I was sending them away…forever.
I woke up. I had no time to reflect on the meaning of this dream for I immediately heard my son call out for me. In a half sleep state I got out of bed and as I stood up, I saw at the foot of the bed a hand. It was a glowing white-green hand of an old man, fleshy and thick as if it belonged to a worker. What was even more strange was that the hand looked like it was partially protruding through a slit in space. I have often written in my fantasy works about schisms or slits between one existence and another, whether it be between the dead and the living or between one universe and another. Was I simply living out this idea in my barely awake condition?
I forced myself to walk past the foot of my bed where I had seen the hand—helping my son was more important than any fear I might have. But just as I passed through the area, my dog Emma, who had been asleep at the end of our bed, suddenly sat up and shook herself violently. Perhaps just fleas but her timing was very strange. I couldn’t help but think that something had disturbed her as well…

More angelic lights:
One day over the Christmas break, my son opens the bathroom door, which is located right next to his bedroom, and gasps “Who put the glitter in the air?” He describes the bathroom as being full of colorful, floating dots. I rationally attribute this “vision” being a result of a knock on the head he had suffered the day before–perhaps he had bumped into the wall a little harder than I had realized.
But one thing really puzzled me. I had recently had my own “sighting” of floating color in that very room. I had been taking a bath in the middle of the day when I looked up and saw beautiful golden droplets suspended in the air all around me. At the time, I attributed the vision to the tricks one’s eyes play you as you age. But now, as I have so many other times since living in this house, I had to wonder…

(to be cont.)

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