by Karen Frazier, Managing Editor
Paranormal Underground Magazine
We had some friends over for dinner last night. It was a fun evening – and an enlightening one. One of the friends, who is a psychic medium, informs me that we have a ghost in our house.
He’s a little boy, she says. Just a hair taller than our wine fridge, next to which she saw him standing. That would put him at about six or seven years old, I’d guess. She also saw him by the bathroom and behind the couch. When she noticed him, he disappeared.
I am a little surprised. We’ve lived in our house since Tanner was in the first grade – a little over 6-1/2 years now. I never once suspected that we had a resident ghost.
Still, looking back it could explain a few things that I have always ascribed to spirits just passing through. For instance, the whole incident I described that I attributed to the boy from Wellington in my blog, I May Be Right, or I May Be Crazy. I always just assumed that was the ghost child of Wellington coming for a visit. As a matter of fact, there have been a few times where I’ve told Cheryl that the boy came to visit me again. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was the little boy who lives here that I didn’t know about.
And then there was the time shortly after my grandfather died. It is described in my blog Personal Agendas in the Paranormal. Maybe it wasn’t my grandfather, after all.
Another time I was up writing a story that featured a friend who had recently died. I sat and thought about him and wondered if he’d approve of my portrayal of him in the story. I was sitting at my desk upstairs. My back was to the room and to the stairway. Jim was at work. Tanner was in bed downstairs with the dog (we only had one back then). I heard Tanner walking up the stairs. I heard his footsteps on the wood floor and then felt him bump up against the back of my chair, causing my chair to turn. I turned to say something to Tanner (who was about seven at the time) and there was no one there. I went downstairs, and Tanner was sound asleep with the dog curled up next to him. I always thought that was my friend, coming for a visit because I was thinking of him. Maybe not.
Tanner often talks about things disappearing only to reappear later, and about having things move around in his room. I figured he was messy. I thought he was forgetful like his mother. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve searched and searched for things in this house that I was certain I knew where they were. They eventually turn up. I just figured (and still think that it may be) that I was disorganized as heck. Or that the dogs carry things off. Or that my memory just ain’t what it used to be.
Interestingly, starting on Thursday afternoon, I began finding uninflated balloons around the house. I don’t know where they came from – but I’ve picked up six or seven in the past few days from odd locations like my bedroom and my piano bench. Tanner says they aren’t his, so who knows. Maybe the dogs found a stash – although reaching the piano bench would be a stretch for them, and my bedroom door is almost always closed.
I believe my friend. I’ve seen her to be pretty darn accurate over and over again, and if she says she saw a ghost in our home, I’m guessing she did. It’s surprising. How could I not have sensed him or known he was here? This is what I do – the whole ghost thing – and yet with one under my nose, nothing?
Now that I am aware of his existence, will I start to notice more? I have no idea. It’s all very interesting, really. I love ghosts – and I feel deeply connected especially to the ghosts of children. Here is one, under my roof. He stands quietly and watches my family, barely making his presence known. He likely has been here for the last 6-1/2 years. Quiet and virtually unnoticed.
Poor little boo. Hopefully he knows that he is welcome here and will be loved unconditionally.
Enjoy reading Karen’s blog? Her new book, Avalanche of Spirits: The Ghosts of Wellington> is now available. Click here to buy.