I believe in ghosts. I know they exist--I just am not too sure exactly what they are. I was once told that they are actually demons posing as loved ones! Nevertheless, WHATEVER they are, I believe. The reason for my believing? I've seen them. First, a little background and then my story.
My grandmother died less than 3 months after giving birth to my mother. After being passed around from family member to family member and being abandoned by her father, she finally wound up with her maternal grandparents, who raised her. They lived in a 'company house'--one which was built by the mining company which my great-grandfather worked for. I guess you could call this house a 'duplex,' as it was one building, divided into two mirror-image homes. There was a basement; a kitchen, dining, and living room on the first floor; and three bedrooms on the second floor. The living room was at the front of the house and the stairs going up to the second floor were accessible through a door. The dining room was in the middle of the two other rooms and the basement door was here. The kitchen was in the back of the house and the door outside was here. While my mother was being raised, the household consisted of her grandparents, a bachelor uncle, and herself. (There were various other people at different times, but none of them are relevant to this story.)
When I was about 7-years-old, my great-grandmother died. I was quite close to her and even stayed with her at times while my uncle was on night shift--she was becoming a bit forgetful and I was able to 'keep an eye on her.' At least as well as a 7-year-old could! To this day, I'm not too sure how the two of us managed: I only spoke English and she only spoke Finnish! But, managed, we did. Her ghost was the first one that I saw.
Some time after my great-grandmother (g-g-m) died, my mother, her aunts, and some of her cousins were sitting around the kitchen table at the family home. (My g-g-m died in the dining room of the house.) I am not quite sure, but I believe this was just after the funeral. Anyway, the women were all visiting, laughing, drinking coffee, just having a good time, when the kitchen door slammed shut--HARD! Everyone got startled and my mother went to scold my brother for slamming doors--he was outside playing--when she saw him on the other side of the front yard. He definitely wasn't close enough to have closed the door and this got the ladies talking and asking each other how it happened. I then piped up and said, "The lady in the blue dress closed the door!" This got everyone's attention, as my g-g-m was buried in a blue dress. I still don't know why I didn't recognize her, but this was the first appearance of a ghost in this house. (NOW I realize it was my g-g-m, because I remember the dress she had on and it WAS the same as the 'lady' was wearing.)
My mother and brother were at the house by themselves one day several weeks later, when he asked my mother who the lady was that just went from the basement through the living room and to the upstairs. As he was only about three, my mother questioned him about this woman--and she got one answer that stood out: the woman was wearing a blue dress.
Within a year of my g-g-m's death, my great-grandfather died. He had been in a medical care facility for several years. My g-g-f had severe arthritis and walked with metal canes, which made a very distinctive sound when used. My mother continued to do the cleaning at the family home for my uncle, who lived there till his death. Awhile after g-g-f's death, my mother and brother were at the house when they heard my g-g-f clear his throat (something everyone who knew him was familiar with) and walk from one upstairs room to another. She took my brother and left very quickly.
The uncle (great-uncle, actually) that lived in the family home was an alcoholic. He would drink himself blind and then call my mother, complaining about all of the people in the house. He would complain because he couldn't get through the living room to go to bed. Usually, the people in the house were holding church services and singing hymns, and he would get freaked. (My great-grandparents were very religious people. G-g-f was a lay preacher and they were founding members of the church that K and I were married in.) I'm sure my uncle would be stricken with bouts of guilt when he drank--my g-g-p's were VERY opposed to drinking--and his sightings could have been explained away as a drunkard's delusions. That is, except for one thing: the people who lived on the other side of the duplex. The woman called my mother MANY times and told her of all of the noise, singing, and people she heard next door in the middle of the night. My uncle didn't get company--he was a loner and he drank in secret, never admitting to anyone he ever even took a drink. BINGO! Someone outside of the family knew of the strange goings-on in that house!
My grandmother's oldest sister lived and worked in Detroit till she retired. She decided that she had had enough of city life, so she came 'home' to live with her brother--my uncle--and 'do for him.' After my uncle died, she lived in the house till she could no longer care for herself. She was one of my all-time favorite relatives, ever since I was a young child, so I would visit her often--usually with my mother. One evening we were at the house and I was sitting in the living room by myself, watching TV. All of a sudden, a cold wind went past me. I whipped my head around to see if the upstairs door was open, and it wasn't. WoooooooOOOOOOoooooo! Several times while visiting there, the wind chimes that were hanging between the living room and dining room would suddenly start chiming--this happening WITHOUT doors or windows open and no one in either of the rooms. Again, WoooooOOOOOOOOooooooooo!
These were just some of the 'highlights' of the haunted family home. The strangest part of it all: as soon as my aunt moved out of the house, the sightings and noises stopped.
Now, my ghost tales don't stop at the family home. We have a ghost in this house. Here is the background. Several years before we bought this house, a woman shot her husband in the living room. I still am not sure if he died in this house, or not, and I'm not too sure I really want to know. Anyway, I think he is haunting this house. Following are several stories.
We have a very tiny hallway off of our dining room. Two bedrooms, the bathroom, and the stairs going to the second floor have doorways going into this hallway. The bathroom doorway is directly opposite the stairs going up--if you are short enough, you can JUST see the upstairs room from the bathroom. BOTH of my daughters would stare up the stairs whenever I was drying them off after taking them out of the bathtub. (This was when they were quite young.) It freaked me out, and both of them answered the same way when I asked what they were looking at upstairs: "The man."
When my youngest was an infant, she would wake up in the middle of the night. One night I was standing in the kitchen, in front of the TV, rocking her back to sleep. Suddenly, someone put their hand on my shoulder. I turned, thinking it was K, and no one was there.
MANY times I have 'seen'--from the corner of my eye--someone walk through my house. Of course, when I go to see who it is, no one is there. Both of the girls have had the same thing happen to them when they lived here. K has never said anything--but, then, this isn't something he would admit happened to him.
So, think what you will, but as far as I am concerned, there are such things as ghosts--and I am a true believer!
