I believe in ghosts. I’m 25 years old, and I’ve never seen one. However, I’ve experienced what I believe to be the ghost of my father.
I was very close to my dad. But when I was 14, he was diagnosed with brain cancer – glioblastoma multiform. It was devastating, and after 11 months of suffering, he passed on. My mom and I were completely lost. She says she saw visions of him a couple of times close after his passing – once in a grocery store, once at home. I was unsure if she was so traumatized that she thought she saw him, or if she really experienced this phenomenon. I, on the other hand, never experienced him, and longed to do so. I would get so emotional, I could swear I could feel him, but no matter how much I begged, he never revealed himself to me in any way.
Maybe that’s why to others, my story could very well be coincidental and not an actual encounter. I guess you can decide.
I was married at 19, and lived with my husband in a small cottage type house. One particular evening, we planned to go out to eat after work, so when I got home first that particular afternoon, I started getting ready. The way our house was laid out, you could see the bedroom from the bathroom in the mirror above the sink. I was blow-drying my hair upside down, and I saw someone in the mirror walking through the bedroom behind me. I naturally concluded it to be my husband, so I begin talking to him, telling him I’d be ready to go soon.
When I shut off the blow-dryer, I discovered my husband wasn’t home yet after all, and I decided that what I had seen was a shadow formed by the ceiling fan. Although I thought it was strange, I never once considered it to be anything else.
A couple of days later, my husband wanted to install a surround sound system in our living room. In order to do this, he needed to go through the attic. Neither of us had been in the attic before, and this house was over 70 years old. Needless to say, we weren’t enthusiastic about climbing around in this presumably nasty, old attic.
Upon entering the attic, we saw sitting as clean as you can imagine, a brand new wooden lacquer keychain that was carved to read, "I Love Joy" on one of the attic beams. Joy is my mom’s name. Instantly, I made the connection with what I had seen the few nights before, and equated that with a visit from my father.
I immediately called my mother to tell her what I had found and to tell her about my experience the few nights before. She believes without a doubt that my father left that for her. A gift from him. And I think I believe it too.
I mean, how else could that keychain have gotten there? And completely untouched by dust? I don't think my husband would have done that to me, as he seemed as shocked as I was.
Since then, 1997, I’ve not experienced any more visits. I miss my father terribly, as this past year in December 2003 marked 10 years he’s been gone. But I am confident that he is there, on the other side watching out for me.