When I was a little girl, I spent many days in my bedroom playing with my grandmother. We would always laugh and have a great time. I loved her very much. I always felt a connection with her beyond what I felt with most of my family members. One day I remember telling my mother about what Grandma and I had done that day, and she looked at me with worried eyes. ”Whatever you do,” she pleaded, “don’t tell your father about Grandma, okay?” I agreed. I wasn’t sure why she didn’t want me telling my father, but I didn’t think much of it.
A few years passed. As I got older, I started seeing my grandmother less and less. I remember going with my family on a long drive every once in a while to a beautiful cemetery where my father would look very sad as he would plant flowers in front of a grave stone. One time I asked him why we were there. It was then that he told me what I never expected to hear. While my mother was pregnant with me, his mother, my grandmother, passed away. I didn’t say much after that but kept to myself the confusion I felt. How was it that I used to play with my grandmother in my bedroom if she was dead?
Not long after this perplexing revelation did I realize I had been playing with a ghost. Based on others’ reactions to the concept of a ghost, I was scared of the idea and didn’t want to experience any more spooky play dates. And so the visits from my grandmother ceased. I hadn’t thought about it for quite some time when one night a few years later I was lying awake in my bed, unable to fall asleep. I was blankly staring around the room when I noticed an indent at the foot of my bed as if someone were sitting there. I slowly brought my foot closer and closer to the depressed spot in the mattress until I got the courage to graze over it. As I suspected, there was nothing there. However, I did notice the air in that one spot seemed much colder. I wasn’t sure what that meant. I pulled the covers up and closed my eyes. Though I knew I should be going to sleep, I couldn’t stop peeking over the blanket at the indent. It didn’t move. I convinced myself I was making it up in my head and finally settled down. Just as I started drifting off, I felt the mattress spring up by my feet. I jolted upright, eyes wide. The indent was gone. I took a few deep breaths and lied back down. At this point I was frustrated, scared, and very tired. Fairly certain the event was over, I turned on my side and closed my eyes. Who or what was that? I couldn’t stop thinking about it. All I knew is that I didn’t want it to happen again. Just as that thought entered my head, I felt the bed right in front of me sink down. Someone sat right on the edge of my bed. I slowly opened my eyes. I couldn’t see anyone or anything there except the indent in the mattress. I moved my hand toward it and a cold chill ran down my spine. How was it that one spot was so cold? It was then I knew I wasn’t imaging anything. I knew it was a ghost. For a reason I can not explain any better today than I could at that moment, I suddenly felt warm and happy. I smiled and relaxed, and felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and love. I realized then it was my grandmother. She sat with me for a while, then I felt her get up and she was gone. I fell asleep peacefully. Looking back, I know now that she was saying goodbye. I am sure she crossed over as I have not felt her presence since that day.
These were my very first paranormal experiences. They most certainly were not the last.
