If you have read my previous stories, you will know I am no stranger to the paranormal. I actually consider existence after death to be natural, almost like a cocoon shed by the energy of your soul. In general I don't fear death or dead people. The living are bad enough thank you. This is a hard won, years long lesson and I was not always so calm about it.
I'd like to share a... Gift? I have... Highlighted with vignettes of the gift manifesting. I don't quite know what to call it, and I hope, after you read the vignettes, someone can tell me what my gift is. Not how it works, but what the actual name for it is. I don't 'see' dead people or even talk to them. I consider the vignettes to be ghost stories because they discuss presence after death but I am not entirely sure if I am submitting this to the right board. I'm sure you'll let me know.
I don't see dead people (In general, like a medium does).
However, I 'feel' them. Let me tell you about one of my first memories. I have 4 brothers that I met, however, I had an oldest brother, Johnny (my son Johnnie was named after him.). Johnny only lived a week. I never met him and I didn't learn of him until I was almost twelve. This presence was actually a constant, like a toothache, throughout my childhood years.
My mother had locked a treasure hutch. She kept all of her precious mementos in it. Twice a week she would open the heavy ornate lock, open the glass doors, and piece by piece, take everything out and dust it. One of the pieces was a baby blanket, cable knit brushed cotton, yellow and soft as down. I had no idea it had been Johnny's but whenever I was anywhere near that hutch, I breathed in a feeling of emptiness and confusion. I knew, just from those emotions that a boy, a baby, one who felt 'void', was gone. When I learned of Johnny, it made sense.
Growing up, sometimes I would come across places that I could... Feel? I would breathe in and know something, usually age and gender of someone who had passed in that place. Apartment and house hunting could be an experience.
One of my jobs was in a hospital. During renovation they temporarily (that became permanent) located me in the basement, down the hall from the morgue. My husband was a lab tech and autopsy assistant. It actually became a bit of a game to us. I'd walk by and breathe in and I'd just know, Forty something male, very angry, unexpected death. Or full term stillborn, sad, lonely, confused. Or, older, seventies woman. Acceptance - she knew she was dying.
Not once was I wrong. This was a routine that went on for months. Hubby would try to trip me up, thinking I was cheating by stopping at the morgue, but sometimes I'd just stand at the end of the hall and breathe it in. I really can't explain it any better than that.
Again, they did not speak to me. It was like there was a scent, an air? That told me about them. It didn't feel personal, like they were directly communicating with me, but like it was just something lingering in the air. Also the biohazard/waste incinerator was down there and I never got that kind of info from a 'part'.
Okay, I hope that is enough to give you guys a clue. It never did me. Does anyone know what to call my 'gift?' Or am I just haunted?