Let’s talk about the paranormal today, shall we?
Yesterday, I wrote jokingly about releasing my paternal grandmother’s ghost into my parents’ house – haunting my mom (her daughter-in-law) for the rest of eternity. You can read about that here if you are so inclined.
Today, I want to be a little more serious on the subject of the paranormal.
When I was joking around with my parents about releasing said grandmother’s ghost into the house, since I would assume she would attach herself to her china set, my mom said it was fine, the ghost could keep the ghost of the previous owner company – but she really thought that my grandma’s ghost was in the old farmhouse.
And ya know what? I actually believe this theory! And Imma gonna tell why – so pull up a chair, grab a blanket and some hot chocolate. It’s cold this morning, I’m concerned for your health.
My grandparents married in the 30’s I think, my dad was born in the late 40’s, he’s the youngest and he is exactly ten years and one day younger than the oldest. So yeah – let’s say they were married mid-30’s. They lived above a bakery in Zurich, Ontario which my grandpa ran until they had a few kids and then decided to buy a farm. This is the farmhouse where my dad was born and raised. I have actually slept in the same room as my dad when he was growing up. How cool is that?! Here is a picture of the laneway from a few years ago right before my uncle moved out.
If you look at this picture, you can see a funny shaped window right by the porch there. So that is a window on the stairwell leading to the second floor. This window and one other one in the stairwell are beautiful stained glass windows.
Gorgeous, am I right?!
Ok, so anyway. Once you reach this window where the landing is, you only have one like a half flight of stairs up to the very top. But every time I would get to this window, I would literally have to stop and brace myself to go the rest of the way. There was always this crazy weird energy at the top.
Right where the stairs end, there was the master bedroom on one side, and then a room that was supposed to be an office but was just like a storage area/hoarders paradise. But I swear to the sweet baby Jesus that there was something weird there. It made my skin crawl. Seriously up until my 20’s – but that was because my uncle sold the house and moved out and I don’t have to go and experience it anymore. Even going up far enough to take the picture of the window creeped the ever loving fudge muffin stuffing right out of me. That’s an expression, right? Let’s all agree right now that’s an expression. People can’t prove all of us wrong.
Story number two. Not as detailed, but this is what my mom told me. When I was younger, like two-ish or something, I was in the master bedroom of our house playing with something, talking to myself. Now, this might sound strange, but as a nanny, I can expertly say that kids talk to themselves.
So there I am, cute little baby me, babbling away. And then my mom comes in to check on me, and I turn and ask her who the red-haired man is. She goes “what red-haired man?” and I go “the one over there” and I probably point my adorable little finger to an area where no one is standing.
Now two conclusions can be drawn from this…well maybe three. Yes, three.
- I was just being a two-year-old and saying crazy things.
- As a ginger, I have no soul and thus can communicate with the paranormal.
- This red-haired man could have been a spirit of some sort just hanging out with an adorable little red-haired two-year-old cos why not?
- OH, reason number 4: someone walking on the street might have passed by the window and it reflected into a mirror or something?
Now, I know this is getting into a longer post, but seriously – I don’t know what to make of these things. I can’t explain them, I don’t know why I felt the way that I did in the farmhouse, I’m not sure if my mom is just bananas and telling me weird things that never happened, or if they really did.
What do you think?
This week has been filled with crazy things like that. On Saturday I was helping 2nd with her math homework and she asked if I believed in ghosts and stuff. And I honestly couldn’t answer. I told her that as a Christian I believe in angels and demons and that they are able to walk among us, so maybe there is a chance that someone could die and then like chill out on earth watching over their loved ones, but would you want to do that?! I honestly don’t know. I sat there for like 20-minutes fumbling my words trying to make sense of it for her. I am positive I offered no real insight into anything. #adultingwin.
Thanksgiving weekend = talks of ghosts. A week later at work = talks of ghosts. Sunday at church = talks of spirits! It was too much of a week for me. This white girl literally just can’t even.
So now that I have the heebie-jeebies, I’m going to go and start my day. Can someone come and hold my hand? I feel weird.