Do ghosts exist?

[Dorothy Thompson]

I'm wondering if there is anyone out there who believes in the existence of ghosts?

[The Story Lady]

Oh yeah! It's not a matter of belief, but of direct experience. I've met some - some very interesting and some not so nice. Just like living folks really.

Ronda Del Boccio, The Story lady of www.Storyation.com

[Julie Ann Shapiro]

What's not to believe? When a friend's, friend died I saw her ghost still lingering by my friend. The classic pink shirt she wore was unmistakable. I've sensed very often when I write that I channel other energy...spirits, others consciousnesss...who knows excactly?

The most tangigle ghost experiences are my dream encounters with my dead grandma. I know you could say it's just a dream, but I don't think so. I feel her present around me regularly.

Here's a passage I wrote about one of her dream conversations...

Grandma stopped by for a drink of my dream. She sipped on my slumbering eyes and whispered things to me, how Mom needs to feel her presence, and that it can be found in a game of Gin Rummy. I looked for that plastic key game with Mom in my dream. We couldn’t find it. Grandma said, “Try cards.’” Mom played Bridge and still couldn’t feel Grandma’s orb.

I told her it’s not very hard. She said to talk to Grandma. See what she says.

Grandma picked up on all this and stopped by in my sleep. She said, “You work on your Mom. I got more important things to do than help her figure it out.”

My curiosity peaked. What could my dead Grandma be so busy doing? She answered before I could ask, “World Peace.”

Dreams with the dead do that or rather I should say spirits. It’s the preferred vernacular. Grandma always insisted I have my words right. And now that she’s a spirit you better believe those keys of my flash fast when I type and every now and them she messes with them. For years now every time I type the word yes, it comes out as eyes. That’s Grandma’s thing. She wants me to know that she sees now, just find. YES, matter a fact she does. That’s Grandma smirking at me now. Don’t ask me how I know she smirked when I’m awake typing. In my dream sense of her now I can see her. Yes, I have eyes beyond my head. A rather sense-ful four eyes is how she put it. Yes, now she’s made up a word.

Ok, so back to Grandma’s dream. In this dream I asked about her efforts at peace.

She said, “It’s a struggle. No one’s listening. Kind of like your Mother and me. Tell her I’m here. She doesn’t think she can hear me. If she thinks she can, then she can. Heeeeehee. Yes, tell her to do the can-can for me. “

With that kind of distinctly Grandma-esque humor Mom would be hard pressed not to know it’s Grandma, same with me. It’s why the spirits like Grandma throw a phrase into the ether that’s distinctly like them, just so you know it’s them you’re hearing and not your imagination. ‘Cause if you think for a second that all your thinking is just your own thoughts then you and the swamp sellers got some talking to do. AND I FOR ONE GOT SOME TYPING TO DO. AND…AND NOW GRANDMA’S NOT LETTING ME TYPE IN LOWERCASE. YES, I KNOW YOU’RE HERE. VERY CUTE GRANDMA. I’LL TELL MOM YOU’RE HERE AND PLAYING WITH MY EYES. I MEAN KEYS.

OH, I CAN’T. YEAH, I KNOW SHE THINKS THOSE THOUGHTS ARE NUTTY. WELL, SHE THINKS THAT ANYWAYS. YEAH, I KNOW ABOUT YOU. OK…YES, SHE THOUGHT THAT WAY ABOUT YOU. YES, I SHOULD SAY YES, NOT YEAH. NOW CAN I HAVE MY KEYBOARD BACK, PLEASE?

YES, I REMEMBER THE SHAKESPEARE LINE YOU LOVED, THE ONE YOU TOLD ME IN TIMES OF TROUBLE, “TO ABOVE ALL ELSE BE TRUE.” YES, GRANDMA. I KNOW. I LOVE YOU TOO.

[Heather Froeschl]

Absolutely I believe in ghosts, spirits, souls.Ronda, I agree that it is a matter of experience. Like so many other things in life, experiencing something is the only way to know it. Truly KNOW it. The best result of an experience with a soul is, for me, a release of the fear of death. I know that the spirit continues on, because I have witnessed it.

see www.SpiritualVisitations.blogspot.com for more on how I feel about this. and Julie? I'd love for you to be a guest blogger on that site, regarding your grandma's communications.
Heather Froeschl

[Julie Ann Shapiro]

Hi Heather,
Yeahm you're right it's a matter of perspective. Not everyone is there. I need to remember that. I sometimes think all writers must feel this or that, just be cause I do and forget that we all approach writing in different ways.

Emessage me about guest blogging. It sounds fun.

Julie

[Mary Chapman]

The stories of the existence of ghosts or spirits can be found in the legends and myths of nearly every civilization, Western and otherwise. Are they the fabrications of people guilty of wishful thinking and unwillingness to let go of deceased loved ones? Or are the "real" in an otherworldly sense?

Me? I absolutely believe in ghosts.

My father passed away when I was about 20 months old, so I never had a chance to know him. Of course I knew what he looked like--Mom made sure to show me his picture all the time--but I didn't have a dad in my life. Well, not in the everyday, clean-your-room-because-I-said-so, Daddy-teach-me-to-ride-my-bike sense. But I always felt his presence beside me--keeping me company, giving me comfort when new things shocked the living daylights out of me as a 3-yr old--I just never realized it was him.

Until I was about four, I was terrified of the dark and couldn't fall asleep unless someone stood guard by my bed. One night, my mother was out for some reason, and my aunt was babysitting me. I wanted to sleep in my mother's bed, so I begged my aunt to stay until I fell asleep. She pulled up an armchair to the bedside and read to me until sleep took me over. I woke in the middle of the night, the room dark save for the light from the hallway. A movement caught my eye, and I sat upright in bed. I glanced over at the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, partly cocked inward.

Daddy was straightening his tie. A dark tie, I think, though it was partially hidden by his lab coat. I blinked at him, not really sure who it was. I gasped and said, "There's a man in the mirror." Then he saw me, and when I recognized him, his reflection smiled at me. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling me to keep quiet, then winked and his smile broadened to a grin.

At my outburst, my aunt--she had fallen asleep in the chair--bolted awake, and said, "What? What?" It was too late, because I fell back on the pillow, fast asleep, as if the experience had knocked me back into unconsciousness.

The next morning, at the breakfast table, my mother quizzed me. I calmly continued eating my French toast and said, "Daddy came to see me last night; he was fixing his tie. May I please have a sausage?"

I'm sure my mother was shocked to hear what I said, and many will just pass it off as a dream by a little kid. Me? I know my dad came to visit me that night. So yeah, I absolutely believe in ghosts.

[Heather Froeschl]

Mary,
This is a wonderful story! I love it! Would you like to guest blog it over at my www.Spiritualvisitations.blogspot.com blog? I'd love to have you do this. Please email me!
Heather Froeschl

[Thomas Reed]

Honestly? I like to believe in ghost. Practically? No, I don't believe in ghost. Never saw one, never had one hover over my bed late at night, never had one say boo, or levitate a vase. I have never felt cold spots on a hot day, (Unless you are talking about standing in front of the AC.) My name is Thomas, and like my name sake. I would have to see the wounds and put my hand inside them. I am the type of person that goes to a hunted house and fixes the faulty light switch, finds the open vent and closes it, repairs the loose tile on the roof and closes the flue in the fire place. I have gone into my share of haunted homes and never so much as felt anything that might be construed as a ghost. Perhaps I am somehow ghost impaired, incapable of sensing or interacting with ghost. As much as I would like to believe in Ghost, I have never had evidence or experience that would lead me to do so. The bump in the night is more apt to be a loose board than a loose ghost, the strange smell a sink trap that is in need of repair or cleaning. Never had a ghost in my home, and those homes that reportedly had ghost seemed to be in their inactive mode while I was present. Are there such people who are just natural ghost repellant's? Or perhaps it is like the UFO group told me "Your negative aura is preventing us from making contact." Sadly they asked me to leave the group. Happily I left. Being woke up at 0300 hrs and asked to drive half way up Mt. Raineer to wave flashlights at passing aircraft isn't my idea of UFO research.

[Lydia Nolan]

Honestly too, I was brought up not to believe in such things, and really don't. But.

Sometimes, I really want to believe. I think it was since my father passed on (when I was a 17 yr old girl, and needed him so much). He died in a terrible car accident. He was such a gentle man, always comical, and very loving; he was a REAL listener, and contemplated matters of the questions we asked him. He was a minister, too and never had much of a job, so Mom was always mad at him.

He was killed by the driver, when they plummeted onto a lower highway, from a winding mountain road. The driver walked away with scratches.

I was pregnant, and my daughter was going to be born in two weeks. I remember I was given a sedative to sleep. I woke in the middle of the night, and felt there was someone in the room, in the corner, where it was dark. I saw nothing, but I "felt" as if someone was staring at me. I remember saying, "Daddy?" and then I cried again, and went back to sleep.

More than likely, I WANTED him to come back. I had my daughter soon after, and nearly died my self, hemmorraging during having her.

Recently in 1999, my mother died. I had such a difficult time with her death because we were not in the best of terms, so much was unfinished. I kept imagining her walking through the hall like she did before, but I knew it was just that: my longing to see her there again...

Sometimes, I could sware my dog is a human stuck in an animal's body, maybe some kind of punishment or something. He has such sad eyes, he's always whining, and he doesn't always do what we want, but does what is safest for him, (he doesn't like the water so much, so baths are a REAL chore).

But coming back to what I was taught by those fantastic people I called my parents...has great meaning now, for me.

Those that go before are in a place so perfect so serene, so beautiful....why would God punish them twice, and make them come back to all their toils and sorrows, and to see the heartbreak on earth, or with their children, who have to go through what they did?

I'd like to think they are somewhere I will be someday...I would rather believe that than in ghosts.

[Charlotte Boyett-Compo]

Most assuredly I do and if you've a moment, I'll tell you why:

Many years ago when our youngest son was an infant, my DH and I were living in base housing at Chanute AFB, IL here in the States. Our bedroom was upstairs, separated from the other bedroom by a flight of stairs. Our oldest son was visiting my mom in Georgia and the baby was only a few months old, sleeping in his crib across the hall.

In the middle of the night, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I reached behind me for my husband and he was right where he should have been. I was absolutely so terrified I couldn't make a sound, could not move. The steps were very slow and very heavy on the stairs. Since I slept beside the door so I could get up in the night to check on the boys, I had a very clear, unobstructed view of the doorway.

When the footsteps stopped, a figure appeared framed in the doorway. I saw that figure as clearly as I see the letters I'm typing now. Trembling from head to toe, frozen speechless and immobile otherwise, I watched as the figure came right up to the bed and leaned over me. It was at that moment I realized the figure I was seeing was my grandfather...fashionable Fedora cocked just as he always wore it, tan suit immaculately pressed, broad tie perfect. He smiled and said, "Baby girl, best you go check on the little one now."

Then he simply vanished. I screamed bloody murder, my DH flew out of the bed. All I could say was baby over and over again and he ran out of the room. It was a good thing he did for Michael had somehow managed to wrap his blanket around his face and was suffocating, already turning blue.

Here's the thing: That happened in 1971. My grandfather had passed away in and was buried in Georgia in 1954. As an only child, he was my best friend. He and I had been very close, super buddies, and he always promised me if I ever needed him, he'd be there.

He made good on his promise.

Charlee

[Heather Froeschl]

Charlee,
Oh wow. I wish this story was in my book! If I need a replacement I'll let you know. What a touching event! I've had a footsteps on the stairs ghost too but he wasn't anyone I knew and preferred to scare me more than anything else. He came along quite a few times before we moved out of that apartment. I'll have to blog about that one even though it was more scary than inspirational!
Heather

[Dorothy Thompson]

Charlotte! I used to live on Chanute AFB myself! Actually, we found a teenie weenie house to live in off base, but omg, that place had some good memories. What year were you there? It was the Bicentenial (dang can't spell that) for me.

[Teri Thackston]

Great story, Charlee...does everyone know about the live broadcast on right now on the Travel Channel. England's Most Haunted crew is at Pennsylvania's Eastern State Pennitentiary doing a live broadcast. Seven hours tonight. The U.S.'s own Ghost Hunters have been to Eastern State Penn before and caught some very eerie things on video. I don't know if I'll make it all 7 hours or if the cameras will catch anything, but I LOVE watching these kinds of shows!
Teri T