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|Posted on April 30, 2015 at 1:28 PM|
With my new book, Restless Spiritdue to release soon, I've been thinking about ghosts. As a true Scorpio, I've had a life-long fascination. Do you believe? Have you ever had an unearthly visitor?
Back when I was a kid, my cousin, Donna, and I spent many a time with a Ouija Board planted between us with our pre-teen fingers pressed onto the triangular device that was supposed to move by some spooky energy to reveal cryptic messages. We loved it even though, yeah all right, we were the ones moving the device. The messages were poignant to the circumstances of our lives at the time. (Yes, the Ouija said, the boy I liked did indeed like me back. Yes, it was true that Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere and the Raiders was lonely like Teen Beat Magazine had revealed, and yes, he did get my letter.) Innocent fun.
Donna and I constructed tents using blankets slung over a clothesline and secured with rocks onto the redwood picnic benches from Donna's backyard dining set. Her younger brother, Ralphie, was not allowed inside our tent, nor was my annoying little sister, Bethy, despite their protestations. We waited until dark some summer nights and with flashlights we sat in our special, though makeshift, place and made up ghost stories that scared us silly. Every little noise made us jump and screech, the sound of the wind messing with the leaves on trees in her yard, the crunch of tires when a car drove along the side road. Even the sudden song of Mr. Softie's approaching ice cream truck made us scream, perhaps cementing true the old adage.
But, beyond those days, my impression of ghosts and their existence has changed. The experiences I've had are not the made-up stuff of tween girls. No. What has happened to me in my adult life in regard to ghosts has been more like having a radio with its power button turned on. Being open to the reception of such other worldly visits has manifested some things that even my skeptic husband can't refute. Dreams of my father giving me messages, the sudden appearance of a cardinal outside my window, the television changing channels on its own and landing on a station where a little girl is asking her father if he's okay. A memento turning up in a new place. Things like that. Coincidences? Some might say yes. I say, no way. How about you?
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