For the longest time, I fell into the latter category.
The vibe in the house was off and certain rooms, like my parents bedroom felt uncomfortable.
It was like the air in that room was heavy.
elina
My dad, who never believed in ghosts, didnt even want to sleep in there.
As I got older, we redid the attic and it became like a second floor apartment.
The third room always gave me the creeps.
At night, Id wake up at 2:00am for weeks on end for no reason.
I just knew it was a man.
I could just feel it.
I kept all my experiences to myself.
After about a year of living up there, I found myself in a weird conversation with my mom.
My mom had always been open about her ability to see ghosts ever since she was a child.
She wasnt scared of them but she believed in them more than the average person.
I met her gaze and asked, What man?
She smiled and said, the guy who lives in the attic.
I see him every time I pull into the driveway.
2.I was usually the only one in my family who ever visited my grandparents at the cemetery.
About seven years ago, I was babysitting my nephew a few days after Easter.
I hadnt been able to stop by on the actual holiday.
When I pulled into the cemetery, I was one of maybe two or three people who were there.
My grandparents plot was relatively close to the main road and where I parked my car.
The cemetery was silent.
While I was carrying him, my nephew started bursting out in laughter.
I mean, he was hysterical.
I paused, because thats exactly how my pop pop used to wave to us as children.
3.It was summer vacation and I was about 14 years old at the time when this ghostly encounter happened.
We lived in a very safe neighborhood and all the doors and windows were locked.
While he was gone, I jumped in the shower and had my music up really loud.
As I was finishing up, I heard fists banging loudly against the bathroom door.
I yelled back, singing the rest of the song that was playing.
I looked in the kitchen and his office.
I peeked my head through the window to see his car wasnt in the driveway.
I was outside talking to a neighbor when my husband heard banging on the bathroom door.
He had apparently yelled out that he was almost finished.
I wasnt even in the house.
4.Its not really a ghost story as much as it is the lack of a ghostly presence.
For the twenty plus years I lived in my childhood home, I had never once felt comfortable.
Every room felt thick, unbearable.
I never felt like I was alone, even when I was alone.
It always felt unsafe.
It always felt crowded.
That is until my mother died in the house.
It was like the house had taken a new breath.
5.My mom died about a month and a half before what would have been my parents 39th wedding anniversary.
At about 6:00am, he woke up because he was cold.
The comforter was nowhere to be found in the bedroom.
His two dogs were asleep at his feet.
He got up and walked into the dining room to find the comforter folded up.
It had a huge indent in it like someone was sleeping in it.
6.My husband and I were packing to take a vacation on the one year anniversary of my mothers funeral.
We wanted to be somewhere different.
About two weeks prior, we had gone out to dinner for Valentines Day.
After we were finished eating, the restaurant gave me a heart-shaped balloon to take home with us.
The balloon hung out in our living room, full of air and confined to one corner.
Touch it, I said, to which my freaked out husband replied, You touch it!
What if its my mom?
The balloon moved instantaneously, floating right to my head.
I even have photo evidence to prove it.
About fifteen minutes later, after we were focused again on packing, I looked over at the balloon.
It was perched on my nightstand next to a photo frame.
I like what you did with the balloon, I told my husband.
He looked at me and said, I didnt touch it.
It was just sitting there on display, still full of life and full of air.
