I left a comment over on San Diego Momma about one of our previous houses being haunted. She even emailed me about it, and after I explained the story she suggested I write about it here. So I thought, that's a damn good idea since I've neglected the blog this week. Maybe you don't believe in ghosts or all that, and if you don't well then this may not be that interesting to you.
I do believe in ghosts. I am intrigued by them and love shows like A Haunting, Ghost Hunters or anything else paranormal.
I don't consider myself a medium by any stretch, I don't "see" or "feel" things about a place. That dream was dashed at Graceland when I didn't "feel" Elvis and I thought of all people he would be the one...But THAT is another post all together.
We lived in a historic home in a historic area of downtown Nashville. Our house was 82 years old when we bought it. It had been renovated and updated (the key to unlocking any spirits if you're not into watching shows...)and was totally awesome. It was great. We were in walking distance of bars, restaurants, and the doggie day care. It was a really neat area and was going through "urban revitalization"
After a while of moving in, Leo and I (kid free at this time in our life) always felt like we were being watched. We would catch shadows out of the corner of our eye. I was convinced we were not alone in the house. I never felt threatened by any of this. Further proof, the dogs would stare up at nothing and wag their tale like someone was talking to them.
I was convinced it was the lady that used to live in the house. She loved the house very much. She lived there for a long time, over 40 years I believe.
Her name was Josephine.
One day I was talking to the best neighbor, Mr. Harry. I'll write another post about him sometime because he was really a unique man and was a wonderful neighbor. In the middle of the conversation he says to me "Well you're not sleeping up stairs are you?" A million thoughts went through my head, the prominent being Oh No, she died in the house. I ask "No, why?". My fears were unfounded as he said "Oh, well there didn't used to be air conditioning up there as it was the attic". After some inquiries with the guy who renovated the place, and trying to get out of him whether or not she died in the house. The answer was No, she had died in the assisted living home she had to go to after leaving the house she loved.
It would make sense that she would come to the place she loved. She wasn't good with timing, I'll tell you that. I didn't mind she was there by any means, however, she could have picked a better time to let me know she was in fact really there. I remember the night well. I had awoken from a dream, I remember the dream even. I was dreaming about my home in Detroit and a street by my house there. I remember waking and thinking how weird that was that I had that dream. I situated pillows in an attempt to head back off to sleep. This is when Josephine came right to my face and screamed "HELLO!". I screamed back and woke up Leo (who also screamed); I tried to explain this but he was freaked out and went back to sleep. I had to have the TV on for a couple hours before I could go back to sleep.
The next afternoon, I went back to my room and had a talk with Josephine, I told her that I loved her house and wanted to be there and that she was welcome to stay but wasn't allowed to wake me up or yell at me in the middle of the night. She never did it again. I could tell she was still there and I would have random conversations with her when I felt she was around.
Before Sweet Girl was born I had yet another conversation with her and asked her to keep watch over our new baby. When Sweet Girl was old enough to hold her head up and smile she would often look over my shoulder when she was being held and smile like someone was behind me making faces at her.
Leaves on plants would move and doors would slowly close to indicate she was moving through the house. We moved before Sweet Girl was a year old. We headed for the burbs. Hearing a live band out the back door and having drunks walk down the street just wasn't where we were at in our lives anymore. I am assuming she is still there. Ironically friends of ours knew the people that were bought our house. I asked them once if they noticed anything and they hadn't.
So maybe Jospehine is just quietly sitting back taking it all in...getting her timing right for the initial Hello...
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4 comments:
Danielle, HELLO!!!!! Great story---left me wanting more: any family left, what'd she look like, did she like to drink?
LOVE IT! But you know that already.
OK, holy crap I have total goose bumps now. My only encounter of the ghostly kind was with my grandpa (dad's dad) when he passed away. He came to my house and said goodbye...in a "I felt his presence" sort of way, not in a "I could actually see him and he physically said 'Goodbye'" kind of way, because God and I have a deal about that kind of stuff. hehe
I kinda want to share this story with them, but also don't want to give them the heebie-jeebeez about their house...
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