I thought it might be interesting and informative to share some of the real life stories of psychic, paranormal and spiritual encounters that I have been fortunate to experience throughout my life.
The perfect story with which to begin is a recount of my first experience of actually seeing someone in spirit physically present in my room.
The story begins with a bit of background. My sister and I are very close and have always shared a bedroom while growing up even when it was possible to have our own separate room. The family home evolved over time from a small three bedroom, one bath tract house to seven bedrooms and four baths with a second story after two home remodels. At the time of this incident, we shared a bedroom in the upstairs portion of the family home and used the adjacent room as our music/art/study room. Our parents, youngest sister and brother lived downstairs in the front of the house, quite a distance from our upstairs rooms.
My sister belonged to a choral group and was away on tour for several days. Although it was rare for us to be apart at night, this was not the first time she had been gone. I happened to have gotten a nasty cold after she left and had some hard nights and difficulty with breathing. In the past, my sis had always been there, close by, to keep a watchful eye on me when I suffered from tonsillitis and bad allergies.
On this particular night, I had awakened well before my alarm was to rouse me for work, to footsteps of someone ascending the stairs. My immediate thought was that it was probably my dad coming up to wake me as he was an early riser. But logic set in and that scenario made little sense. My next conclusion was quite sinister in that I concluded someone had come into the house through the laundry room door at the foot of the stairs, undetected until now, because of the far distance from other family members at the front of the house.
The footsteps were getting louder and closer so I made a decision to turn away from the door, towards the wall, and pretend that I was sleeping. I next heard the bedroom door open and lay in fear as I sensed someone standing next to the bed. There was no other sound or movement, yet, I knew they were still there. After what seemed like an eternity, logic kicked in once again and I reasoned that if someone was truly there to hurt me, they most likely would have already seized the opportunity and taken some action.
Clearly, something strange was happening and I felt the need to confront the situation. I decided to summon all of my courage and turn towards this person to see what would happen. The moment was now! As I turned, I was shocked to see a young woman hovering next to the bed. She appeared as a holographic type image, much like the “ghost” like figures seen in the Haunted Mansion attraction at Disneyland. She was transparent yet had 3-dimensional form. She was wearing a long dress covered with a long apron. Her hair was pulled up in a scarf.
Stunned, I asked who she was and what she wanted. With a thick Germanic accent, she answered that she was just coming to check on me. This made no sense and I repeated my questioning, to which she answered the same, and added that she had to get back to the farm. With that, she turned and disappeared through the still closed door as I heard it open and close. Her footsteps down the stairs became faint and the only other sound I could hear in this disconcerting quiet was my heart wildly beating.
Scared and shaking, I stayed in bed, trying to grasp the full reality of what had just occurred. Who was this woman? Why had she come? Only after the alarm clock sounded, at last, did I finally get up and race down the stairs. My dad was already at the table reading the morning paper and sipping his coffee with toast when I began to explain what had happened just a short while ago. Much to my surprise, he was very calm and accepting of my story and then stated that he knew the identity of my visitor.
Before he could give me the name, my mom came into the kitchen and I recounted the incident for her. They both agreed that it was my paternal grandmother, Elisabeth, who had lived on a farm on the border of Austria and Hungary until she was 18 years old. As a young woman, she left the farm and her family and immigrated to America settling in Minnesota into a new world of promise and adventure.
But the question remained, why had she made her visit on this night? My mom proceeded to fill me in on some family history of which I had no knowledge until that moment. Shortly after I was born, my grandmother offered to come out to California in order to help care for my five older siblings who ranged in age from three to ten. Hearing her voice on the phone, it was apparent to my mom that Grandma had a bad winter cold and she declined her offer as she didn’t want the kids to get sick, especially the small new baby. Her pleading went unheeded and within a week, Grandma Elisabeth arrived, unannounced, at the Union Train Station in downtown Los Angeles.
My mother’s worst fears were realized when at only six weeks, I did catch the cold. While checking on me one afternoon, Mom was horrified to find that I had stopped breathing and was turning blue. There was no 911 emergency line in 1954. There was no time to find a neighbor to drive her to the hospital. Desperate and with no prior training, she instinctively started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and breathed life back into me again. This was likely, my first NDE (near death experience).
After hearing this story, it was now obvious that my deceased grandmother had carried some guilt for many years and this visit, in my particular time of need, served to right that long ago wrong.
