I have been sitting and thinking about the stories I have posted. One thing that I can say in all honesty, and frankly, with a great sense of relief, is that my stories predominantly do not centre around fear. I am honestly thankful for that.
This past weekend, my sister stayed over for a few nights. I have had this nagging feeling for the better part of a month that I need to tell her about what is going on in the house. But, I honestly thought she'd think I am crazy. As I have seen so many times, the general idea is ghosts equal fear and panic. For most people, yes, it does. I honestly consider myself very lucky (and knock hard on wood) that it stays that way. Whilst we are a family raised on Christian values, I do not attend church (for personal reasons), though I do pray, I do read my Bible, and I do believe. My sister and her husband, on the other hand, go to Church every Sunday, and generally, exploring anything paranormal isn't something she would ever do and tell her husband about.
Anyway, we were in the kitchen on Saturday evening, and I told her I needed to tell her something, but I was really on the fence as to whether or not I should. She assured me that I could tell her anything, and that she would listen with an open mind. I started by asking her if she remembered that she had woken up one night and thought she had seen someone put something down on her vanity, though no one was there. She said yes. So I stated this, "What if I told you that I know who is in the house?" Now she was intrigued, but she asked me to hold the story right there, she just wanted to go and wash her hands, and off she ran. A minute later she came back, and I proceeded to tell her everything. Starting with Kiddo all the way to Gran and Charlie. And she cried when I told her that Charlie had been in the car when we were driving to Mozambique.
She told me that when she had gone to the bathroom she stood and looked in the mirror and actually asked herself why she was not freaking out, instead she felt so calm. Only later had she found out that Gran is there in the passageway. She told me she completely believes that Charlie and Gran are here for our protection, but that we should not only thank them but God too. I completely agree with that. She slept in my room with me and as she started absorbing everything I told her, the nerves set in. She kept rolling around on Saturday night and eventually asked me if we could put the light on and sleep that way, so then I confessed that her big sister has been doing that for months now. She also asked me to face her, and she grabbed my hand, so that is how we fell asleep again. When I opened my eyes on Sunday morning, she was sitting up in bed, and I noticed that the lamp was switched off. I knew it wasn't one of us but right then I didn't mention it.
I did her nails for her Sunday afternoon, and we were sitting in the lounge when my mom asked her what she thought about everything I had told her. She confessed that it was a lot to take in and that it unnerved her, but she also believes everything. Then my sister asked my mom how she felt knowing her mother is around her, and my mother made a confession. She told us that it made her bitter and angry, knowing that she could have had the real version of her mother in her life, she was stolen from her and she felt resentful toward her father for that fact. She teared up and just then Tim sent me a message and told me that Gran asked we please console mom as she was really emotional. This was obvious to us both and we cuddled on the couch with her. I asked him if Gran was ok, and he said, "She wishes she can be hugging her girls too." I showed the message to mom, and we all started crying again. Then he sent me a message and he said, "You might not believe me, but Gran is being consoled too. Three guesses by who. It wasn't me." Charlie was hugging Gran. Then I felt someone to my left, I could feel a hand squeezing my arm and then pressure as I assumed a head could be laid on my shoulder. I told mom Gran was hugging me, and she told me I am so lucky that I can feel her, she really wishes she could too. It was such a tender moment for all of us.
When we finally decided to wipe away the tears, Tim let me know that my little guy was upset, again. So I went to his room, and found it in a mess. The boys had been playing there but the toys were scattered all around. He was really unhappy about the state of the room. So, I called the twins and stood there, watching them pick everything up and put it in its place. Then Tim told me that the little guy was upset about something. He said it was made of fabric and had bright colours. And the only thing that I could think of was a little plush crab. I put it down next to the white teddy bears and walked from the room. I was barely down the passage when Tim sent me a message and said whatever I put in the room, Kiddo doesn't like it at all. He said it scares him. So I explained to him what it was and he said, "Picture the feeling we, as adults, get from the ghostface (ironic) mask they use in 'Scream.' That's how he feels about that toy." So I ran back and apologized to the little guy and took the crab out of the room. His mood lightened almost immediately.
The poor little guy had been worried on Saturday as well. I had realized that something must have spilled in his room, because I walked in there and bent over to pick up a toy, and got the musty smell of wet rotting material. This was on Thursday evening. I had voiced that the smell was awful and had spoken to Kiddo and asked him if he could tell me what had spilled in the room. I felt bad that the little guy had to stay in that smell. But life happens and I kind of forgot about the wet carpet (as Tim later filled me in) when my dad and my sister both pitched up for the weekend. I had not spent half as much time in his room than I usually do, and Tim brought this under my attention, adding "Kiddo thinks you blame him for the smell in his room. That must be why you are avoiding his room. He says it really wasn't his fault." I ran to his room and tried to talk to him, trying to assure him that I had a very good idea who it was that made the mess, and that I knew it was not him. I was so emotional I was struggling to hold back tears. A minute or two later Tim sent me another message and said, "He still thinks you're upset with him." I told him I was not, I was trying not to cry, and then I told him I would show the little guy that I wasn't mad. I gave my kids each a piece of chocolate, and took one to Kiddo's room. I put it down on top of a toy car and told him if I thought he had been bad I wouldn't give him sweets. This seemed to satisfy him. And, just before you think I'm loony, he loves chocolate. I have given him sweets twice before, and every time I put the pieces where he could reach it but the twins would not see it, and every time, within a few hours, they were gone and the mood in his room was very happy.
I think it is going to take my sister a while to adjust to what she knows now, but I know she will. When I asked Tim how Gran and Charlie feel about her knowing, he said, "For the first time since I met you, they are both happy and peaceful."