Can a ghost story be funny? Over the years I’ve had my share of the typical scary encounters that many people write and speak about. My father had a very nice encounter that perplexed him until the day he died. In 2008, my wife and I moved into a townhouse that would occasionally produce unexplainable occurrences. So of course, I will now try to explain one of those occurrences during our four years at this location.
To be clear, my wife has had at least one experience with ghosts, but at the townhouse, she claimed that she never had any strange happenings while being there. Me? I had a few dozen bizarre tricks being played on me there, and they all happened during DAYLIGHT hours, when I was home alone. I know–how convenient.
In my forty-one years I’ve lived in six different locations and the townhouse was the only living space that produced paranormal activity. The place wasn’t that old (it was built in 1971), but the structure acted as if it had a storied history where people had a tendency to “stay” even though they “left”. Most of the hauntings were enough to spook me but not in a mean-spirited manner of behavior. Huge swings in temperature, lights flickering on and off (while other parts of the house were fine), a woman talking (usually one word but distinctively within the walls of the house) and the feeling of being watched were occasionally observed or felt. The most severe of the incidents happened in 2009, about eighteen months in to our time at the house.
My wife has always worked a typical daylight job since we’ve been together, but I have not. At the end of 2009 I was working a 4 p.m. to midnight shift and I didn’t see my wife that often (Some men would call this paradise. I’m kidding. Really.). I would be home alone each morning, but I would usually sleep throughout the morning and into the early afternoon. The sunlight coming through the windows didn’t bother me and we didn’t have a cat yet to wake me out of a deep sleep just so they could put their ass in my face. Sleep was abundant, peaceful and sometimes, unnerving.
Around 10 a.m. one morning, I woke up, but I didn’t get out of bed right away. Once I saw the time I knew I had a few more hours of sleep to get in before heading off to work. Eventually I drifted back to sleep, and the next thing I remembered seemed like a dream. I remember my eyes remained closed, my arm was draped over what seemed to be a woman’s body in the middle of the bed, her hair in my face and the smell of perfume. Not old lady perfume but a sweet, light, flowery fragrance. By the contour of the body and the scents I encountered, it felt like there really was a woman in bed with me. A slender, sophisticated girl was spooning with me into the late morning at the house. Eventually I became more conscious of the situation, but I was afraid to open my eyes. At this point I knew I was awake and I felt someone/something was spooning with me in bed. Eyes still closed, I lifted myself up, knelt upon the mattress, and opened my eyes–I couldn’t believe what I saw.
In bed, next to the location of where I was sleeping, there was an indentation in the mattress. There was no person there, but the mattress provided a perfect outline of a female’s body snuggled up right next to where I was lying in bed. The smell of perfume still resonated through the room and it wasn’t anything my wife would wear. She wears “Chance” by Chanel and that’s a smell I’ve been around since we started dating in 2004. Even though I was frightened, I was at the same time flattered by the experience. Instead of screaming out and trying to banish what I couldn’t understand, I thanked it. I’m convinced it was a woman, and I thanked her for appearing to me in a loving manner. I believed she liked being around me and I told her she can stay in the house. But I also told her that spooning with me scared me, and that I now know she was there in the house–there was no reason to manifest into a form anymore.
In the remaining 2 1/2 years we lived there, I never had another ghost snuggle with me and the hauntings went back to the milder fare I became accustomed to. Often I thanked the ghost for letting us co-exist with her while we occupied that particular space in time. I’m sure one day I’ll find out who she was when I have the opportunity to walk through the invisible veil amongst us and into another dimension.
Unless she met someone else…probably moved to Maryland or somewhere further south.