Seeing as it's approaching Halloween and I sat and listened to the radio this morning as the morning guys on the station I listen to (The End) talked with some ghost investigators, it got some of the discussion online this morning with Mom, Di and Stacey on the subject. Partially because I mentioned that they are holding a contest where you send in an email to the morning guys of a short essay saying why you should win. The prize is going with the ghost investigators on an investigation sometime this month. Di told me I should enter. I am almost tempted to. Except for the fact that I've had enough ghost stuff, I really don't want to intentionally have more. Yes, you read that right. I believe ghosts are real. After all, Joseph Smith said that the spirit world is on the earth. It would make sense then, that occasionally there are interactions with them. And growing up close to the Bountiful Cemetary, I've had a few. (The Bountiful Cemetary is listed on haunted places in Utah.)
Most of the ones I had growing up were simply hearing voices. Usually calling my name when no one else was around. Makes you feel really silly when you call back, "What?" and then discover that no one is actually there. Then there were the times where we'd watch the cat watch something move across the room and then totally freak out. He'd refuse to walk on the floor and would act like something was touching his back in a way he didn't like. Plus there's the basement. Sometimes I still don't like to go down there. Feel like someone watches me and really doesn't want me down there. Usually feel like something is chasing me up the stairs as I go back up. The last couple of times going down there haven't been that bad though.
One time Russ and I were staying at the house while Mom and Dad were on vacation. Jimmy was 5 months old. We were expecting De to come that night because she was going to be induced in the morning and didn't want to have to drive early in the morning from Grantsville. Jimmy started crying because he was hungry. Russ and I went into the kitchen to make a bottle up for him when we both heard a woman's voice. We both turned to look at the front door, expecting to see De come in. She didn't. Russ tried to say it was Xena, who was outside at the time. I said that wasn't the dog. The dog doesn't make a sound like a woman talking. And Russ understood what the voice said. I only heard the sound of the voice. Russ told me it sounded like she said, "It's okay," like you do to comfort a baby. A few years later, a neighbor boy came over to play with Jimmy. He started to go downstairs but stopped and asked, "Are there ghosts?" I didn't want to scare him so said no. Russ laughed and said, "You just lied to him."
Then there are the couple of things during my mission, and two since moving here. But I won't go into them now. Just remember what I've said and still stand by: Do not ever live by a funeral home.
So, anyone else have stories they want to share?