Ghost Stories & Paranormal Encounters

The day my father-in-law died following a heart attack shattered his whole family. A man so ornery and full of life, no wonder everyone cried so hard at the funeral and the emptiness settled in even before he was laid to rest. He had four sons and a daughter. My husband was the first born and extremely close to his father.

One night after the funeral, I sat watching TV with our four month old daughter, Faith. Denny said goodnight and went up to bed. I had heard ghost stories all my life, but had never experienced a real life encounter. That is until I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. At first I just thought it was Denny coming back downstairs. Yet, I didn’t hear the usual creaking of the stairs. That’s odd, I thought.

About that time, I looked into the other room and there stood my father-in-law, dressed in his favorite plaid short-sleeved shirt, standing at the foot of the stairs. I stared and for a minute my heart filled with joy – he’s back! The next second I could hardly breathe as the realization of his death and grief consumed me. Suddenly, a tremendous feeling of peace took its place. I felt no fear at all. He smiled at me and then in my head, I heard him say, “I’m just going to say good-bye.” Then he started to walk up the stairs and out of sight.

I sat there for a good while unable to move holding my baby daughter close to my heart. I could feel love all around me. Time seemed to stop for a while.

When I finally got up, I put Faith to bed and went to check on my husband. He looked so peaceful. After I came back down stairs, I sat down in the chair, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I kept looking in the other room at the stairs, hoping to see my father-in-law again. I never did.

But perhaps the strangest and hardest to explain phenomenon occurred when my husband and I went to the hospital to see his Dad after his first heart attack. When I followed Denny into his hospital room, Dean greeted us with jokes about the cute nurses. Maybe he would be alright, I thought. I didn’t look at Dean as I sat down in the chair at the foot of the bed. It was only after I looked up did I see the purple cross on his forehead. I sat transfixed staring at it while he laughed and talked to his son. Suddenly, this irrepressible feeling of grief engulfed me. I knew he was going to die. I could no longer hold back the tears and lowered my eyes. When I finally looked up again, it was gone.

A few days later he rallied and there was talk of his getting to come home. I felt so guilty knowing what was coming and asked myself over and over – why me? Why did I have to know? Then it happened. The fatal heart attack took his life.

Sent in by Brenda Luyster, Copyright 2008