Ghost Stories & Paranormal Encounters

Hi, I wanted to share with others the strange things that have happened since my father’s death.

My father died while we were visiting his family in Nashville, Tennessee on October 11, 2003. I was the youngest born to my parents (I an older sister and brother) and I was extremely close to my dad.

When he died my oldest child at the time was only a year old, he was with me, as well as my husband (though we weren’t married at the time) brother and sister. We were at my cousins house for a get together when I heard my aunt shouting my older brother and sister names. When I finally made it downstairs I saw the most horrific thing I had ever seen, my father was seizing on the floor, his whole body was shaking and he was thrashing around violently and then it stopped. My cousin called the ambulance and he was transported to the local hospital.

While the doctors were with him I stood outside trying to call my mother (who did not make the trip with us) but I couldn’t get an answer. My husband stood there holding our son, who was crying, then almost suddenly my son stopped crying and looked over my husbands shoulder and waved at something while babbling what sounded like “bye bye”, maybe two minutes later my brother came out and grabbed me saying over and over “he’s gone”. I was so angry with my father for leaving me the way he did. I found out, once we returned home to Cleveland, that my father had been sent home from his job two days before we left for Nashville with explicit instructions to go to emergency, because he has almost passed out at work, and when the nurse checked him out she said that his heart sounded real funny.

We buried my father the following Saturday October 18, 2011 in his hometown of Vicksburg, Mississippi, he is buried next to his parents. My family believed that I was being difficult, but I was genuinely angry. I didn’t want to be bothered by anyone. I barely ate and I barely slept. I think my rage was stronger than my pain. During the funeral my son was getting very fidgety because we has been sitting for quite sometime, so my husband put him down and he kind of stood between his legs, all of a sudden again, he started waving at my father’s casket. At this point his casket was closed, it didn’t open until it was time for the viewing of the body. He waved and laughed for maybe fifteen minutes and then he stopped and turned back to my husband with a smile on his face and said “ga ga” which was the name he had given my dad. Even through my undeniable grief I was baffled and a bit weirded out.

Fast forward five years and my son is now six years old and I have two daughters aged 2 1/2 and 3 months. My two year old daughter loved to play in our dining room for some reason, but it all changed the summer of 2008. I remember putting my baby down for an afternoon nap when I heard my two year old yell “NO” and run out of the dining room. She was so scared and she was crying saying that she saw a “man”. This went on for another two weeks, she was afraid to go into the dining room. So at this point I started to ask questions. I asked what the man looked like and she said that he was wearing a blue hat with “NY” on it, and she pointed to our mantle where my father’s blue New York Yankees hat was placed, and said that’s the hat he was wearing.

Maybe a month or so later things had finally quieted down and we were visiting my sister who has my father’s obituary sitting on her fireplace. We had not been to my sisters house in a while and when we were my children were too busy playing with her dogs to notice much else in her house, but when we entered her living room my daughter froze and yelled “that’s the man, mommy! That’s him!” My sister looked totally confused and that is when I explained what my daughter had seen. My sister then started to ask my daughter questions like what did he say when he would talk to her. My daughter said that he would always ask her how “Honeyboy” was, in that moment, I burst into tears. “Honeyboy” was the nickname that my father had given my son when he was just two months old, my daughter could not have known that.

Fast forward another two years to the spring of 2010. We had a fire at our home on April 4, 2010. It was Easter Sunday and luckily we were not home, we decided to stay at my grandmothers longer than expected and my husband was at work. It was an electrical fire and our entire living room was gone, also gone was my father’s New York Yankees hat. The same hat I had bought him for this birthday in 1999, the same hat he was wearing when he died. Of everything that was lost (television, books, furniture, etc.) I was the most devastated about the hat.

Though I was very grateful that there were no injuries, it still hurt. Nothing outside of our living room was destroyed so with the help of the red cross we were able to go to a hotel for the next couple of weeks. Since we were renting the owner of the house didn’t know when the repairs would be made, so through the help of my mother we found a nice townhouse not too far away from where we originally stayed.

After our second night at our new townhome my husband swears that he saw a shadow outside of our sons room one night, a shadow that looked like it was wearing a baseball hat.

The weirdest thing happened in January of this year. My children were putting up their onslaught of new Christmas toys when my son comes up to me and says “Mommy, where did this come from” when I turned around I almost had a heart attack, it was my fathers baseball hat. At this point I became hysterical and I called my husband at work and started to yell at him for playing such a mean trick on me, though my husband denied everything. He was sincere and I think deep down I knew it wasn’t him.

I called my older two children (now 9 and 5) in for a meeting to ask where the hat came from. My son looked bewildered where as my daughter simply said “Grandpa Hank put it in there”, I looked at her like she had grown two heads. I think she knew that I was asking her a question without vocalizing it. She told me that one afternoon while she was playing super Mario brothers on the Wii she heard something in the closet and she turned around and saw my father put a hat in there. I immediately asked her why she never said anything and she shrugged it off saying “I always see him.” She said that when she feels sad or scared she sees him and it makes her feel better.

At this point I don’t know what to believe. I do honestly believe that my daughter sees him, but I feel angry because he was my father, yet he has never shown himself to me.

Thank your reading. Has anyone else had a similar occurrence?

Sent in by JordanJanelleJoy, Copyright 2011 TrueGhostTales.com