Visits From Ghosts in Search of ...

Yesterday, Prof P. posted a blog describing his family’s frequent encounters with a visitor from the other side. I commented that if he were brave enough to expose his “spirited” experience, that I would, too, although my story is not nearly as thrilling or chilling as his, nor does it have a moral or spiritual message. I wouldn’t believe my experience either, except that one of the young girls who lived up the street also saw the female wraith wandering the upstairs of her house. The child’s description of “her ghost” was a perfect match to my ghost, who wafted her way through my house, seemingly to be quietly and intently searching for something or someone. It also sounds like something from a fantasy romance novel. Well, it's my story …and I’m stickin’ to it. My ghosts were a man and a woman. I only saw him once. A dashing man dressed in conquistador clothing as he marched through my living room. Living as west as one can in the Southwest without falling into the Pacific Ocean, it would not be surprising that a spirit from the past would be dressed thusly. She was young and beautiful, her slender body draped in a flowing white dress, old-fashioned in design. But, then, aren’t most ghosts of the female persuasion dressed in flowing white? One of her excursions took her through my dining room and twice she floated down the upstairs hall. Both seemed oblivious to anything going on in the house, but were seeking out something or someone…perhaps each other? After those brief appearance, they were never to be seen again -- or were they? Occasionally, I think I glimpse a flash of white out of the corner of my eye, but when I look in the direction of the light that is so white it‘s almost blue, nothing is there. Probably a trick of light or eyes. If the story I’ve woven around my ethereal visitors is close to the truth, I hope they did find each other. No spirit should be restless.