Monday, October 5, 2015

Do you believe in ghosts? I do.

It’s not like I attend séances trying to visit past relatives or old loves.  I do not go chasing after them or watch TV shows about ghosts.  Mine are incidental encounters. 
I believe in ghosts because I believe in the hereafter.  And because I believe that there is better than the right here, I think the ghosts we do encounter have a reason to make themselves known in this realm.
I have no explanation why they want to visit with me but I wish they would do it in the daytime, but that is never the case.  My ghostly visits have always been at night.
Everyone in my family thinks I am afraid of the dark.  Not so.  I am fine with the dark.  It’s the night that scares me, and I have my grandmother and my dad to thank for that.
My grandmother raised us and she kept us in line with the whole array of Mexican folklore about the llorona (pronounced yorona), the Cucui (the boogieman), the Diablo, and an assortment of other scary stories.  When we got older (and properly scared straight), she confessed that Mexican moms tell those stories to help keep naughty kids in line without having to resort to punishment each time.
My two sisters and I loved when our father tucked us into bed each night.  To keep him near us for a while longer, we would beg him to tell us a story.  Some of the tales came from his mother and some he made up on the spot.  None of them ever ended happy.  After scaring us to pieces, he would tickle us, make us laugh, and bless us before planting another kiss on our foreheads.
By then I was afraid of the night and along with that, I was afraid of the dark.
In my grandmother and dad’s defense, their retelling of Mexican spooky stories was no different than how the original fairy tales were formed.  Almost all of the modern fairy tales once had scary and sad endings.  Their original versions were not necessarily for children.  They were not G-rated or the sanitized and Disney editions we learn today. They were intended to moralize or scare or scandalize the reader.  
Because I am afraid of the nighttime (ergo the dark), I totally understand my grandchildren’s need for a nightlight.  While everyone else dismisses their need to keep a night on in their bedrooms, I provide them with an excuse when they sleep over at my house.  I plug in “safety” lights or leave a closet door cracked open a bit with the light on, just in case they need to get up and use the bathroom.
They are in a new place and we don’t want them to stub a toe, do we?
(Whisper) Besides I have never encountered a ghost on nights I left a light on in my bedroom.


  1. Here is my ghost story Raquel. Years ago (2003) when I bought my house my daughter Violet told me that there was a ghost in the house and that she had seen her. She said the ghost was that of a young girl about 10 or 11 years old. She described her as looking like me when I was a young girl. She said she often saw her sitting either at the foot of the stairs or sitting at the top of the stairs looking pensive. From time to time I would hear someone call and say mom. I would look around and wonder who was home and would find I was alone. I heard the voice call out mom more than just a few times. Then my youngest daughter, Jasmine, said that she too had seen this girl. My son Johnny told them to stop talking about ghosts because they didn't exist and said they were just trying to creep him out. A couple weeks went by and my daughter, Violet, moved out but her bedroom furniture remained in her room which was upstairs and caddy corner from my son, Johnny's, room. One morning I was downstairs in the kitchen cooking breakfast and my son came downstairs with a ghostly look on his face and said to me "Mom! I saw her!" I asked saw who? and he said the little girl! I asked what little girl? and he said the little ghost. He was a little freaked and so I asked him where and when did you see her? He said it was about 1:30 in the morning when he opened his bedroom door to go to the bathroom and he glanced into Violet's room and saw the little girl sitting on the bed looking out the window. There was very good lighting that came in that window because there was a street light that would help illuminate the room real well if the curtains weren't drawn.. My son said he just happened to glance in the room and she was just sitting on the bed looking out the window and when he took a second look she was gone. So this made a believer out of him.

  2. Do you still own the house? Did you ever find out who owned it before and might be causing this?

    1. Part 2 of this ghost story:

      About the time that this little ghost girl was seen and heard in our house there was a beautiful cat (grey with a white chest) that looked like a Persian cat that would come around our house and hang outside the front door wanting to come in. She was a sweet cat and so I started feeding her outside. We only saw her at night after dark. Violet began saying that the cat was a version of the little ghost and started calling her Franshesca. Not sure if this is even spelled correctly. Anyhow, the cat would sometimes scare my daughter Iris and so one day the cat came out of now where and Iris happened to have a glass of water in her hand and through the water at the cat. After that we never saw the cat again or the little girl ghost.

  3. Wooooo. This is fun. I will share two of my favorite stories next Monday so be thinking of more to share. Woooo. Until then keep your lights on at night.