RURAL REFLECTIONS: Of ghosts and goblins
A tap on my shoulder.
"Darn it," I thought. "Bathroom? Can't sleep? Basic complaint about life?"
With kids, you never know.
All I wanted to do was go to sleep. Grudgingly, I rolled over.
"What now?" I asked an empty room. Sadie looked at me, and I think she shrugged.
Sadie was my buddy. My furry friend shared many years with me and my children. If I was sad, Sadie listened. If I was busy, Sadie was there underfoot to help. If it was time to sleep, Sadie waited anxiously for me to shut up and let her sleep.
We both dreaded that interrupted sleep that comes with the advent of children.
Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed with my trusty sidekick. Both children were sound asleep.
I paused to review the "back tap." Yes, I was awake. Yes, I felt it.
Once more, I looked at Sadie. This time, I know she shrugged.
Truly, I should not have been surprised. Many times, I had felt the bed tremble as I sat reading.
This was the beginning of events that Sadie and I experienced.
The music box table had not been wound nor opened for years. It sat against the bedroom wall, being ignored by all who passed.
On this night, Sadie and I were settled for the night. All at once, the music box began to play. Sadie looked at me, and I returned her "what the heck" stare.
In my heart, I knew that my recently deceased Aunt Kate had come to say farewell.
Ghosts and goblins. Do you believe? Well, obviously, I do, as did my sweet Sadie.
Years ago, I had gone to a friend's home. She claimed to be an empath. She looked at me and asked if I knew I had a guardian angel. Of course, I rolled my eyes and was looking for a path out of the house.
"You have a white-haired woman standing over your right shoulder."
I didn't doubt it. In fact, I wondered if it was Grandmother Loxley or perhaps her sister Aunt Alma.
Three days later, I went to my chiropractor. Her receptionist asked that I come in early because she needed to talk to me. When I walked into the office, she told me that when I initially called, she felt my name bounce off the walls. Oh, well, this must be what it is like to enter the world of "believe it or not."
I sat across from her in one of the rooms.
"You have a guardian angel." Well, by now there are no surprises, right?! "She is an old white-haired woman standing behind —" yep, wait for it! "— your right shoulder."
These two women do not know one another. Both told me that I was an observer and a writer before I had begun writing for others.
There is a warmness in knowing that I'm looked over and a bit of wonder that there are people walking around that I cannot see. I found myself more concerned on bathroom trips.
When my grandmother passed, a neighbor saw doves fly from the chimney of their home where she laid.
My son had a face to face with a ghost standing in his bedroom doorway. The invisible visitor sighting was reinforced by a friend housesitting for us.
We seem to be either open to another dimension or curiously insane. But, yes, we do believe.
When we left the farm for the last time, my sister Peggy was standing in her old bedroom. All items had left the house. As she stood there, a ball of crochet thread fell from out of the closet to the toes of her shoes. Mom had always wanted her to learn to crochet.
Ghosts and goblins. Gentle spirits both unseen and those seeking candy. Someone knocks.
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