Do you believe in ghosts?

October 20, 2013 0820 

The Goat Man and I lay in bed after another day of trying to get settled in our new space.  I cannot call it home because it is I.H.’s home, but it is the most like home The Goat Man and I have had in awhile.  Honestly, I have not felt like I had a home since we left our house on Heather St going on four years ago.

Home is a very important place and there is nothing worse than not knowing where your home is.  It is hard not knowing where you belong.  I have become very versatile because my sanity demands it.  Those that cannot handle change don’t survive well in this society.

Just two days after I returned from my visit with my grandmother we lay in bed curled together and relaxing.  But just before the sandman drug us into our deep sleep the cool breeze brought in the ghosts.  The cool air rushed over my back and the blinds above the bed rattled.

            “Hello” I.H.’s voice came through the baby monitor.  I pulled a little closer to The Goat Man.  He lay still and listened.  He likes this sort of thing.  He likes to be scared and he talks about growing up in a haunted house.

The second day we were here I looked up just by chance and saw a man in a white shirt walk by the front window like he was about to enter, but he disappeared before reaching the door.  We were told it was H.H., the husband of I.H.  The Goat Man saw him a few days later.

A second cool breeze brushed across my back and the window blinds moved.  I pulled the covers tight up around my shoulders.  The air in the room got thicker and it felt like somebody was watching us.  I.H. was talking, but the words made little connection to the other words.

            “Listen to that.”  The Goat Man spoke with excitement in his voice.  He pointed to the baby monitor.  I had already been listening.  I was simply trying to ignore what I was hearing. “That is children playing.”

            “Yes, I know.”  I spoke harshly and pulled myself closer to him.  I thought I saw a glimpse of a smile on his face.  Then the cool air brushed across us, the blinds moved, and the thickness left the air.  Several times over the next couple house the cool air would come, the blinds would move and the thick air would either come or go.  When I woke in the morning I could not remember falling asleep.

There has been no sign of any extra visitors since.  The air feels less full of ghosts than before the night visit.  I.H. is not smiling and talking to the empty corner anymore and she rarely wakes in the middle of the night.  She slept so quiet and sound last night I was up checking on her several times.

 I have set at many bedsides as a hospice nurse and I have sat with many who have died, but I have never felt the air get thick.  I have felt a calm peace overflow the area and I have felt the spirits come for the soul.  There is no doubt when the feeling comes over the room what it is.  The thick feeling was different.

H.H. does not leave the same feeling in the air when he comes to visit.  The first night we stayed the night here The Goat Man came to the door while I.H. and I were getting her ready for bed.

            “Who is in there?”  I heard through the door.

            “No one just us.”  I snorted back.  What a stupid question.

            “I just heard a man’s voice over the monitor saying easy, easy, easy.”

Do you believe in ghosts?