My mom had a bit of a sixth sense. She always said if she dreamed about someone three times in a row, something was wrong. I witnessed this one time, but that isn’t my story to tell. I remember when my Aunt Edna died. This was my mom’s sister, the sister who finished raising her after my grandmother died. I stopped by the house one evening after work and my mom told me that Edna had passed. She told me that the night before (around three I think she said) she had been awakened by something. She got up and looked all around the house to make sure there was nothing wrong. She even went out on the porch to check. She went back to bed, noting the time. The next day she received a call that Edna had died the same time my mother had been awakened.
Another time while asleep, she heard her sister Thelma tell her “Gladys, he’s dead.” She again awoke and noted the time. My Aunt Thelma took care of her brother-in-law for years because of his poor health. The next day Aunt Thelma called my mom to tell her that her brother-in-law had passed away the night before. You guessed it, same time.
There were probably other times that either my mom never mentioned or that I have forgotten. I don’t know if I inherited this sixth sense or not. I don’t think so. I don’t know about my siblings, oddly, it’s never come up.
Years ago, when my mom’s health started failing, we moved her in with us. It was then that I realized that she was suffering from Dementia or Alzheimer’s. She would have memory lapses and seemed unable to comprehend the passing of time. One evening after everyone had gone to bed, I sat up watching TV. My mom came out of her room and asked me if I saw someone come out of her room. I said, “No, why?” She said that a little old man had come into her room and sat on her bed. She had also seen a small girl with a bloody face. I assured her that I saw no one and said it must have been a dream. She went back to bed. A little while later she came out again. This time very perturbed. She said “You must have seen him this time.” I told her I hadn’t and she eventually went back to bed. I’m sure she thought I was lying. Since one of the symptoms of Alzheimer’s is hallucinations, I chalked it up to that.
Now, from what I’ve read about ghosts, they apparently either attach themselves to a place, an object or a person. I don’t know if the little old man came with my mom and decided to stay behind or if he had always been here, but after we moved Mom into a nursing home, I started to hear noises around the house. Knocks and creaks that seemed to be more than just the house settling or the wind. I also heard footsteps and sounds like the back door opening and closing. My son said he heard the noises too, but my husband insisted it was nothing. He didn’t believe in ghosts.
Once when I was home from work because of an injury, I laid down in the guest room (where my mom had stayed) to take a nap. Why I chose this bed instead of my own, I don’t know. I had with me our small Dusky Conure Parrot named Gus. (It’s his picture you see on this website.) Gus would sleep with me during my naps (in case you’re wondering, birds don’t poo while they sleep). I should point out that Gus adored my son. He was constantly seeking him out. Any time he thought he heard my son, he would squawk and look for him. Before falling asleep, I heard the back door open and close and someone step on the trash can to raise the lid. And Gus heard it too!! He ran to the edge of the bed, looked out the bedroom door and waited for my son to walk by. No one. I had to take Gus to the back door to prove to him that my son was not home.
There was a period of time when I slept in the guest room because of my husband’s snoring. It was after dreaming that I was being chased by a gang of motorcyclists and realizing that the vroom, vroom, vroom of the motors was my husband’s snores.
One night while sleeping I heard someone come into the room and lean on the bed. I thought it was my Paul coming in to get me up, but when I rolled over, I was alone. There were a couple of other nights when I felt someone sit on the bed beside me. I joked that it was the ‘little old man’ Mom had seen and tried to brush it off, but the fourth time was just too much. I remember being awakened by jingling, like the coat hangers in the closet bumping each. Just about the time I was awake enough to think “what is that,” I felt someone climb into bed with me. I felt him get on his hands and knees on the bed, climb over me and lay down. I felt his hip and then his shoulder hit the bed as he lay down. I immediately jumped up and left the room. As I was heading for our room, I realized that the alarm clock in that room would start going off at 6:00, so I went back in to turn it off, turning on the lights first, of course. I said out loud “You’re dead – go toward the light.” He stopped sitting on the bed after that and the footsteps and other noises lessened. I moved back into my room after that and my husband got help for his snoring.
Quite some time later, my son was out one evening and my husband and I were watching TV in the basement. At one point Paul yelled upstairs, “Is that you, son?” No response. I looked at Paul and said “You heard footsteps, didn’t you.” He had to admit that he had. And still later, I was off on a weekend horse riding trip and when I returned on Sunday, Paul told me that he had felt someone climb into bed with him on Saturday night. He thought that I had come back early, but when he looked over – no one. Even so, he still insisted that ghosts don’t exist.
So you’re probably wondering if I’ve ever heard or felt Paul’s ghost. Shortly after his passing, after crying myself to sleep, I awoke around 3 am to go to the bathroom. When I returned to bed, I felt someone tug on the blanket near my foot. The alarm clock light dimmed and the fan slowed down almost to a stop. It only lasted a couple of seconds. I think it was Paul letting me know that he was still here with me. I hear knocks in my bedroom regularly, and in other places in the house. It is so common that my dog, Andre, doesn’t pay attention any more. My sister has heard him a couple of times. We both sleep in my king-sized bed when she visits, and on one visit she thought she heard me walk around the foot of the bed. She said “Are you up?” I replied, “No, I’m right here.” Another time she thought she heard Paul’s voice. Maybe she has inherited some of Mom’s sixth sense.
The existence of ghosts hasn’t been proven – some believe and some don’t. I am a believer. My son told me that I shouldn’t want Paul’s ghost to remain because then he isn’t in heaven. I’ve pondered this for a while now. I heard an opinion that when we die, our body returns to the earth, our soul goes to heaven and our spirit remains behind. Another opinion is that spirits can come back and visit from the other side. I only know that it gives me comfort to think that Paul is still around, looking out for me in death as he did in life.