Monday, March 26, 2012

Things That Go Bump In The Night...

Ahhh! Between the HHS Mandate, Obamacare, my usual Pro-Life reading/arguing/being dismayed, the election coverage, and all that goes with that - I have been having a hard time concentrating on anything else lately. And, of course I do have a lot to say on those topics, but I have read everything I would say elsewhere, and better written, so I avoid for now.

So, do you believe in ghosts? Spooks? Things that go bump in the night? For things such as this that are wholly unexplainable, I generally turn to the Catholic Church for Her teaching on the matter. Turns out, the Church doesn't have a whole lot to say about ghosts. The general gist is - don't go looking for ghosts, or anything of the occult. Believe me - I won't! But...

What would you do if you had things happen in your house that you just couldn't explain away...for example:

It started when we first moved in, but we (Doug and I) didn't believe the girls when they told about footsteps on the basement stairs, and the distinctive sound of a metal zipper being pulled up. They were home alone, and thought that their dad must have come home, so they went to say hi, to no one. No one was there.

One night when the girls had a friend over to visit, they were snapping photos, as the friend was home briefly from college and they were wanting  to make a few memories. In the resulting photos, there is a distinct face in a circle of light that is not the face of any of the girls. Digital, not film camera.

One night, late, like 4am, my husband was in bed alone. I was downstairs on the computer, still working. He was awakened by the cup of water he took to bed being THROWN across the room. Water everywhere. He was nowhere near the water, and hadn't even really fallen all the way asleep. This was followed by an almost identical incident a few months later, but we were both in bed, around 2am, but neither of us was asleep. Water cup again THROWN across the room. SO. WEIRD.

Last fall, my husband was out on the porch with our two youngest boys. I had everyone else in the school room. The two year old threw a toy over the side of the porch, and my husband just commented to him, that he couldn't play with it now. A second later, the toy was back in his hands. The porch is a good 7 feet off the ground on that side of the house. There is zero chance the baby got down and got the toy.

About 2 months ago, while helping my 9 year old clean his room, I found a bunch, like 20, rusty tin safety pins, open, and in his bed. I have no idea where they came from, I have never seen them before. And while I understand that kids play tricks on one another, I don't believe that anyone here would do something potentially harmful, nor do I know where they could have gotten a bunch of old, obviously antique-ish safety pins. SO.SCARY. I found it particularly scary because several times prior to this, I had found a number of straight pins pushed into my sheets and mattress topper from underneath. This is of course disturbing, and obviously quite deliberate. and I truly cannot even begin to imagine our kids playing a trick or thinking this sort of thing was funny in any way.

My 14 (now15) year old was looking in her room for a picture she meant to hang, and could not find it anywhere. We searched the whole house, her room, everywhere. It was a framed picture - it HAD to be somewhere. A few months later, it just appeared in her room, sitting on a bench near where she had planned to hang it. She hung it up, but later, it just kind of jumped/fell/sprung off the wall and hit her on the head. Sent her running pretty fast. 

One night as Doug and I lay in bed, my head on his shoulder, we both heard a whisper, right over our heads. It was weird, and we both were "Did you hear that?!".

We used to have an old stove vent/fan thing in the kitchen. Many years ago I asked my husband to replace the bulb so I could use it, it had burned out. He replaced the bulb, and upon turning it on, it burst. He had to shut off the electricity to that part of the kitchen, and use pliers to get the bulb out of the socket. He never replaced it because he figured the whole thing needed to be rewired and it went on his "someday" list. About six months ago he called me into the kitchen and asked when I replaced the bulb. I had forgotten all about it in the years since, so I was just wondering, 'What bulb?". Then he showed me the bulb in the fan. I was happy he had gotten around to it. Until he told me that not only had he not fixed it, but that the bulb in place was some gross, old, greasy bulb. WHAT?!  The light continued to work until we took the whole fan out a couple of weeks ago.

Then, the other day my husband called me at work to ask if I had finally asked our pastor to come bless the house. When I asked why, he said that Benjamin (4) had just walked into the living room when he fell backward, as if a carpet had been yanked out from under him. He was standing still when it happened. He even has a bruise from hitting his shoulder on the arm of the couch.

Of course we have the numerous occasions when an item has disappeared, and upon demanding aloud that it be returned, it has been returned. I had always chalked it up to the kids playing tricks on each other, until the other stuff started happening. We have also had the occasional moment when you think you see something, or someone, and look again and it's gone. We have all seen and heard various movements and shadows..I just don't know what to make of it, and my husband, as men tend to be, was hugely skeptical  - for YEARS, until that first cup of water went flying.

Now, we are getting anxious to have Fr. Vic come bless the house. I have no idea if that is an appropriate step, if it will help, etc, but I figure, having your house blessed can only be good. It's a start.

Any thoughts? Any of this happen to you? Have you had your house blessed or used any other blessings? I know this sounds fishy, and somewhat unCatholic, but all of this stuff happened..there are certain things I am not willing to let go, such as the pins, and Ben getting pushed over. I have no idea what is going on, and I don't really want to know. I just want it to stop...advice?

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Because I like to drive myself crazy...

    Or am overtly morbid, or just like to cry, I am not sure which; I decided to take a drive through the cemetery where our little twins are buried at the  Memorial to the Unborn. It's a big, old cemetery right next to the hospital. I didn't realize quite how big it was, because I thought I could just drive right up and see the place where the hospital buried our little boys. As I drove through, I realized it was almost dusk and I wouldn't have a whole lot of time to look. I drove around and around, sure I would be able to spot the Monument to the Unborn. The place is so huge, and it was getting darker and darker, so I, being me, started to panic.

Perfectly reasonable response, right? Well, for me it is. It's sort of a learned response. When I am pregnant, I often have nightmares that I can't find my baby. When Caleb was born, they whisked him away to another hospital and I wasn't allowed to go with him. I had the same nightmare/feeling all the time I was away from him.  When we found out we had lost our twins, I had that same nightmare over and over.  It actually just stopped a couple (mostly) a couple of weeks ago. Driving through that cemetery and not finding where the babies were buried just brought all that scary/sad/traumatized feeling back. I often say I like to torture myself. I cannot imagine any other reason I had to go traipsing through a cemetery that was about to close, trying to find something when I hadn't the first clue where it might be.

 I left because I was afraid they would close the gate with me still in there. I just wanted to sit where they were for a minute. They would have been born by now. The doctor told us they would take mono/mono twins by 35 weeks - get them out where they would be safer. I just wanted to be with them for a few minutes. I know they are not really here. I know where they are, but that doesn't stop the feeling, in the middle of the night, or afternoon, or anytime, from sneaking up on me and making me feel desperate to get to them. I know I am dwelling. I don't let myself, very often. I haven't even looked at their pictures in weeks, because I don't want to cry. I just stopped. I don't want to stir it all up. But, knowing they were recently buried, and that had they lived, they would be in my arms by now...I just wound up at the cemetery on my way home one day.

Someone said something to me the other day, I can't even remember what it was now, but it made me think, "Well, if that hadn't happened, we would never have had the twins." It made me realize, that even with losing them, even with all the sadness, I am still so very grateful they were ours. Even though it was brief. Even though the Lord had other plans for them. They are a blessing. Our family was blessed by their presence. We were even blessed with their loss. A friend told me they were a different kind of blessing, and at the time, though I believed her, I didn't feel it yet. All I felt was loss. Now I feel it. They were beautiful. They were here, they are our very special intercessors in heaven, whom we ask for prayers every single night.

Thank you, Lord, for the gifts our sweet George and Gabriel. Hold them close for me, Blessed Mother, until I can hold them myself. Amen.