Showing posts with label babies seeing ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies seeing ghosts. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

She Sees Dead People....

Since Halloween is right around the corner, I thought that now was as good of a time as any to talk about spooky crap.  Dead people seem to fall into that category.

Before I go on, I have to do a little disclaimer here.  I am not a medium, psychic, clairvoyant, witch, or any other kind of person that connects with the deceased.  I have never actually seen a ghost before, because if I had seen one, I'd be in the local psychiatric hospital, sitting in a corner, terrified while ripping out my eyebrows.

I have, however, seen ghostly activities that scared the bajeezus out of me and left me either screaming or crying.  I'm a big sissy though, so what might be scary to me might be giggle-worthy to you.

So back to my topic.

I think my daughter sees my father.  And he's dead.  I'm not kidding about either of those statements.

When Allie was a baby she would look up at the ceiling or at a blank wall space and suddenly smile and giggle.  You could tell that she was watching something.  And whatever that something was, it was extremely entertaining.

The first time this happened, Justin and I both watched her and asked, "WHAT is she looking at?" We would squint and stick our heads right next hers to see things from her view, and there was nothing.

At least it looked like nothing to us.

After a few more episodes, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Well, holy shit.  It's my dad."

"What?!  What do you mean it's your dad??"  Justin looked around nervously, trying to see if there was something around us.

"I know my father. He's all about entertaining kids.  Remember Moheeken, Boheeken and Hobomeeken?  Anything for a laugh.  He's probably making goofy faces at us, or telling her some wackadoodle story about Rindacella and Her Three Sissty Uglers."  It seemed so obvious to me now.

These mysterious gigglefests continued until she was able to speak.  Then the wake up calls began.

Okay.  I'm totally speculating on this one.  Actually, my mother is the speculator.  I just think her speculation may have some merit to it.

Allie does not sleep through the night.  She has slept straight through maybe six times in her three little years.  It's torturous for me to have broken sleep (it hits the Bitch Button in my brain).  Justin can wake up, have a conversation about how to install a torque tube and why a super charger is important (these are car terms, for those of you who were starting to take it to a pervy place), and then roll over and be in Snoresville within two minutes.  AND he's cheerful in the morning.  It's disgusting.

I know.... that's something a jealous person would say....color me green.

After hearing me complain about this nightly interruption for a few weeks, one day my mother comes out with, "Where's your father?"

"Well, that's kinda beyond my realm of knowledge.  I'm assuming he's chatting with Saint Pete at the Pearly Gates.  You know what a gabber he was....." Forever a smart ass.

"Where are his ashes?  Are they still in that room?"  My mom is quite the interrogator and has no tolerance for silliness when she's presenting a point.

I should mention that Allie's room was our office before she was born.  We had two desks and computers and file cabinets and all sorts of stuff in there.  We also had my father's ashes in there.  They were in a bag, in a container, in a box and they used to sit on my desk.

When Justin, my sister, one of our friends and my mom did an Extreme Makeover on the room after Allie was born, Dad was put into a storage box along with a photo printer, some sentimental cards and a pile of jumbo paper clips.  The box has been shuffled around that room a bit.  It currently resides in the closet.

"Yes, the box is in Allie's room.  Dad's in the closet, I believe."  I like to talk about him like he's still a living being, in case you hadn't noticed.  We all seem to do that around here.

"Well, get rid of it.  That's probably what's keeping her awake.  Take your father to a beautiful place and spread his ashes.  It's not good to keep him in that box, especially in her room."  She said all of this very matter-of-a-factly.  Like she has heard of deceased people keeping babies awake quite often.  And like she's an expert on the proper care and the preferences of cremated remains.

Even scarier is that I'm kind of buying into the theory.  Especially after that whole thing with Allie  laughing at the ceiling and stuff during the first year of her life.  I can see my father getting bored and waking her up to play now.  

Unfortunately for Dad, she's at a stage where she's quite fearful of anything or anyone she doesn't understand or know well.  So, I imagine he's freaking her out a little bit.

My dad was awesomely nuts, so if she is seeing him, I hope she starts warming up to him and enjoying the wackiness.  His initials were JPC and he would tell people they stood for Just Partly Crazy, which was quite accurate.

I still haven't done anything with my Dad.  I had wanted to take him to Aruba when I went on my honeymoon, but I was very sick and didn't pack him.  And I forgot to consult with my siblings about it first.  So, he never made it back there.  He really liked Aruba.

I'm convinced that when the moment is right, I'll know exactly what to do.  Then I can ask my sibs and see what they think.  To be honest, I'm kind of just waiting it out to see if he tells Allie what he wants me to do with him.

How cool would that be???

If it happens, you'll be the fifth to know.  Don't be offended.  I've got four other people to contact.  I have two brothers, one sister and Theresa Caputo from the Long Island Medium to call first.  I'm sure you understand.

If you clickity click on the banner below, it will seem like nothing happened, but it did!  You can close the window as soon as it opens if you like.  T'anks peeps!
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