So today we’re going to talk about ghost stories — real ghost stories from my life. I’ve always been psychic, and I’ve always known when ghosts were around.
I’ve dealt with a number of spirits over the years who were passing through my house, and I feel/see them on the side of the road, especially as the veils begin to thin each year near Samhain. But, in particular, several incidents stand out.
A group of us were gathered in our living room on Samhain eve. We always do a silent meditation during the ritual, focusing on those who have gone before. Well, I remember I was sitting there, focusing on my ancestors, and I happened to glance up at the arch leading into the hall.
I saw a youngish man, probably in his early 20s, wearing what looked like mechanic’s coveralls, and he was holding a motorcycle helmet. He had reddish hair, and he looked at me and said, “Nobody remembers me. Nobody’s thinking of me.”
Well, after the ritual, we always discussed what we felt or saw. I mentioned this guy, and told everyone what he looked like and what he said. One of my friends straightened up and said, “Oh my gods, that’s Rusty.” It turned out that when she was younger, she had dated a man who was in his early 20s, with red hair. He had been mechanic. He ended up dying in a motorcycle crash, and she said that it would be like his family to not really remember him much. After that, she included him in her Samhain roll call of the dead.
About nine years ago, Sam and I went to Port Townsend (a town out on the Peninsula) for our anniversary and so I could do some research. We stayed in a cheesy hotel which was just…cringe in its decor, but it was nice enough and had two parts–the older wing, and the newer one that had been renovated. We were in the older section. As we walked down the hall, I noticed a stairwell to the left that made me nervous. Every time we walked past it, I was nervous that Sam might fall down the stairs, though there was plenty of room to stay away from it.
So, on the morning we left, I was taking the luggage out to the car. I happened to glance down the stairs and saw a woman standing there. She was translucent, watching up the stairs, dressed in garb that looked like it was out of around the 1900s. I stared at her, and her expression suddenly changed–I knew that she suddenly realized I was watching her/could see her. She backed up a moment, then vanished from sight.
Spirits aren’t limited to people, either. Another Samhain, my husband and I were celebrating privately, and during our silent meditation I felt this tiny kitten crawl on my lap. I could see her, she was young and frightened, and I realized she didn’t know she was dead.
I started to cry because I felt so bad for her. I petted her—astrally—running my hand over the place where she was on my lap, and she seemed to like that. And then I called Mielikki, my goddess, to take her through the veils to a place where she could be free again. I still cry when I think about that kitten, and how many animals were killed on the roads and wandering through the spirit world.
Whenever we pass a squirrel or cat who has been hit by a car, if we can’t stop to get them off the road, I always send a silent prayer to Bast or one of the gods I know who deals with animals, to help their spirit make the transition. We have a lot of spirit cats coming through our house–sometimes they pass on by, other times we’ve had them stick around for awhile. I think they feel safe here. I also have seen a few of our Rainbow Bridge kitties show up.
Another time, I lived in an apartment where I had a poltergeist who loved to steal stuff from me. At first I thought it was the Fae—a lot of my jewelry went missing (and yes, I was living alone), but then I realized nope—while I’ve always worked with the Fae, it was definitely a poltergeist. The most blatant (and in a way, weird) example was one night when I was watching a show on TV. The TV was in my bedroom. During the commercial break, I went into the kitchen to start my dinner. I was going to bake some fish.
Well, I took the pan out, set it on the stove (which was turned off), and then heard my show start up again. I hurried back in the bedroom to watch, then returned to the kitchen. The pan was gone. I knew I’d put it on the stove but checked the cupboard, just in case I only thought I’d pulled it out. Nope. Not there. I looked all over the kitchen—even touching the burner where I’d sat it. Nothing. I think, well, maybe I absently carried it into the bedroom with me when I went back to my show.
I walked back to the bedroom. Nothing. I head back to the kitchen and there it is. On the stove. On the burner where I knew I’d put it. I know the poltergeist got a good laugh out of me that day, and that’s when I realized it liked to play. I never felt threatened by it, but boy, did it irk me when I’d have to stand in the middle of the room, scream “BRING BACK MY NECKLACE/EARRINGS/KEYS”…but every time after I did that, about an hour later, I’d find what had been taken, left in the most bizarre places (like the closet or my dresser).
I’ve dealt with angry spirits as well, but those are stories for another day. So, tell me, do you have any ghost stories to share? Tell me in the comments below, what eerie adventures have you had?
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I know this is one thing we share Ms. Yasmine so please don’t haunt me later. I see and talk to them as well. Usually in dreams though this time of year is the craziest, they think I can help them but in most cases all I can do is pray for one of my patrons or guides to guide them on. Animals are very hard on me since I get very attached to all animals, I often think of them as something I need to protect. I think that kitten got on the wheel again, I either have her or one very much like her as of Friday. Someone just gave me a little Siamese girl my husband named Whisp.
As for a ghost story, this took place on an afternoon, it was just me and mom in the house. We were sitting in our living room and we heard the cabinet doors slamming in the kitchen. I got up and they were all open, we normally kept them closed because dad had to have them closed if you weren’t getting something out of them. I closed them and told mom, I inherited this from her, she said it was probably her cousin Pete who died when I was little. I sat back down with my book and ten minutes later it happened again. Same thing, cabinets open. I closed them and said uncle Pete if you got something to say then say it. After that no more slamming but I did dream of him that night, he hugged me and said thank you for talking to me, I miss you and your mom.
That’s just one of many. Mom and I used to be able to tell which places in Louisiana were tourist attractions and which were real. Used to irk the heck out of the guy I dated from 2000-2004, he’d want to go somewhere and we’d go. He’d look for the ghosts and I’d just stand there watching him. He’d look at me “don’t tell me there’s nothing here”, ok I won’t.
Right now, I’m trying to convince my friend’s son who’s been dead a couple years to stop trying to talk to me and catch her asleep because she’s hear him then. He obviously isn’t listening.