📖📖📖My Ghosts and Me

At The Hospital

As long as I can remember, I have lived in haunted houses. Every single home I have lived in has had ghosts. Some have been good, some have been ugly, and some have been violent. But they all have impacted my life in some way or another. These are their stories.

The first ghost experience I had was when I was born. My Great Aunt told me this story about my Great Grandfather's visit after I was born. Let me make this clear I was a keeping up with the Jones baby. I was told that I was a unwanted baby. How can that be? Well, my Aunt was pregnant with her first child and my Mom did not like the attention my Aunt was getting. I was conceived a month after she found out. From additional information that has come to me, not by her husband, either. However, she ran with it and my Fathers family believed I was theirs. 

My Great Grandfather wanted to see the family line continue and he passed right before or after I was conceived. Fast forward to the day I was born. I was born a little over a month early. The Doctor told my Mom I was indigestion from the Lasagna my Mom had at my Great Aunts house. When my Mom started having stronger pains, she was taken to the hospital to get checked by our family. A few hours later, I was born. 

The following day, my Mom was in hog heaven as she was being lavished with attention and phone calls. My whole family came and visit to see the new baby. As everyone was visiting the smell of cuban cigars was lingering in the air. My Great Grandma smiled and cuddled me as everyone else spoke. She would look up like she was looking at someone and would shift me as she was showing me off to an unseen person.

A nurse came in and said, "We can smell cigars in the hallway. We understand you like to give them out but no smoking."

My Great Uncle said, "Ma'am, no one is smoking in here. This little one came so early that we were unable to go to Ibor and buy them yet."

My Great Grandma chuckled to herself but kept me in her arms cuddling me. Later that night my Great Grandma told my Aunt that someone had been smoking in the room and that my Great Grandfather had come to join the festivities. Growing up I would see a taller man both old and young out the corner of my eye. When I found out that my Father may not be my Dad he came to me. He told me in his broken english that I was still his Granddaughter. His visits are always few and in between come when I need an unbiased person to sit with me as I struggle in my life. His last visit came when I had been let go of my job. He stood over my shoulder as I filled out applications and told me that it would work out. Although I was unable to meet him in life I value that he visits me after his death.