Has anything inexplicable happened to you?

In My Humble Opinion
1

I never had anything unexplainable or unexplicable happen to me previous to last evening.

It had been a busy weekend, and I was tired. I was resting on the couch, watching tv.

My son was laying next to me, and put his head on my head on my shoulder as he sometimes does. I was relaxing, thinking forward to month from now when my birthday, Flag Day, and Father’s Day all occur withing the span of a few days.
I looked over at my son and was thankful that I had him; a little boy (well, bigger now at 9) who still cared for me and loved me, and constantly wanted my opinion and approval.

Just then, I felt something.

It felt like a hand, resting in between my shoulder blades. I turned around, thinking the cat had stretched out on the couch behind me - but there was nothing there.

When my father was alive, he’d often walk up behind me, and rest his hand in that exact same spot, the hand that let me know he was there, and cared.

He passed away almost exactly a year ago.

I think someone, something, or even him, was just still showing me that my father still cared for me.

I don’t know if there is a higher power, life after death, or a light on in the fridge when the door closes. But I do know mentally at that instant, my father was there with me, even if just in my mind, letting me know that he’s always there, even if it’s just by me remembering him.

2

One time when I was a kid, we had gone to spend Easter at my grandma’s house. In those days, it was smaller, and when all the relatives came, we’d all cram into the house’s one bedroom. That night, I was lying awake, and I heard my mother and my aunt whispering together. One of them said, “Should we wake the kids?”, so naturally I joined them to see what was going on. My mom pointed out the open bedroom door, and silhouetted in a high, small window in the next room, was the shape of a rabbit’s head. It was facing us, with two long ears sticking up. I mentioned this was the night before Easter, right?

We sat and looked at in amazement for a while. I mean, that rabbit had to be over six feet tall! My mom and aunt decided not to wake up the boys (it was hard enough to get them to go to sleep the first time). Finally, Mom said, if that’s the Easter bunny, you should hurry up and go to sleep, so I got back in my bed and pretended hard.

Naturally, the next morning, no one believed us, and we never saw a shape in that window again.

3

Years ago, I was falling asleep, when I felt my GF’s cat walking on my bed.

Pretty normal, right? Except that a week or so before, GF had moved out, taking her cat with her. For about a year after, I could feel the cat walking on my bed.

4

There was this elderly woman that lived on the same street of me while growing up. She took me and my sisters in when we were little. Taught us how to bake. Listen to us about our days. Helped with school. Though the older I got, I made less and less time for her. She always asked my father to ask us to come up. I always got the message but felt I had better things to do then to hang out with her…

Then many years later and much guilt over never making time for her, I got word that she was dying. She was at home and they believe that she would pass that night. I went up to see her, feeling I didn’t deserve this opportunity to say ‘good bye’, and sat at her bed side. She looked at me and I lost it. Cried like a baby telling her over and over again how sorry I was. That I loved her, that I always did and that I was sorry that I hurt her so bad. She just looked at me.

After I left her house that night, she died 4 hours later. I remember laying on my bed sobbing. I was so upset with myself because I felt I had better things to do then hanging out with this woman that help raise me. While sobbing, I felt this tickle by my right ear and the whisper clear as the person was laying right beside me say “I love you.”

The way it was spoken or whispered, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I stopped crying, stood still and listened. Never will I doubt what that was.

5

I have tears running down my face.

6

My mother hung around for a month or so after she died. That’s really all I can say without breaking down but she was here and I’ll never be convinced she wasn’t.

7

Years ago I was on the job and co-worked told me that someone had just called for me. Out of the blue I said was it my Mom? I had not spoken to her in a year at least.

When I called her back she told me that my brother had just been diagnosed with cancer. Somehow I knew that she was trying to reach me.

My brother was hospitalized for 18 months, never gave up and is still in remission today.

8

When I was in my early 20’s, a good friend of mine, age 19, died in a car accident. I don’t recall being overly wrought with grief but her death had affected me on a very personal level.

Several weeks later I was driving home from work and she “appeared” to me, her face slightly above me and to my left. She laughed (she had a very distinctive laugh) and said “Hey, Nance, I’m OK.”

It immediately felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of me. It was a very profound moment for me. Like the OP, I don’t know if it was something unexplainable or my own mind working overtime but for that few seconds, she was there.

9

Mine’s a bit different than everyone else’s, as it’s technology based, not spiritual or anything, but I described the events in this old GQ thread.

Long story short: I had a friend visiting me from out of town. She called a mutual friend of ours to talk, but kept getting his voicemail. So she decides to call him and leave a voicemail (she hadn’t up to this point) and yell at him for not answering his phone. She dials his number by hitting “send,” twice, because hitting send once goes into her phone’s recent calls, and send again dials the most recent one. Well, MY phone starts to ring, so I assume she is being silly or hit the wrong number. She swears she’s dialing our friend’s number and shows me the phone which shows she IS dialing his number, so I go to answer my phone, but the call stops before I can answer it. The number says it WAS the friend standing next to me…we are weirded out.

Well, we though her phone just messed up, but her phone goes to HIS voicemail. We hear HIS voice and HIS voicemail message telling us to leave a message at the beep, not mine. We do, and then a few seconds later my phone beeps because it has a voicemail. We listen to it, and it’s the same voicemail we just left.

The simplest solution is that her phone had a glitch and dialed my number, not his…but I know we heard his voicemail message, not mine, so the hell?

10

When my wife and I were married many years ago, her parents came from Brazil for the wedding and they stayed for a couple of months. While they were here, her father bought a small dieffenbachia plant with three leaves at the local grocery store.

Eventually they went home and the plant remained and grew.

A few years later, her father had a heart attack and died while chatting with his neighbor; my wife suffered greatly from the loss.
Several months later, we awoke one morning and smelled a sweet fragrance throughout the house. We looked all over to identify the source and eventually found that the dieffenbachia plant had bloomed with one single flower. It was her father’s birthday. Fourteen years later and we still have the plant and its many offspring, but none of them have ever bloomed since.

Dieffenbachia rarely bloom.

11

None of it inexplicable but the dieffenbachia story reminded me of this. One of the residents where I work died. Her name was Iris and she had her room decorated with iris items, she even had clothing with irises on. She was an ex-nurse with a sad story. She was working at a hospital back in the 1960’s and there had been something happen referred to intriguingly in her notes only as a “traumatic incident”. It precipitated her mental illness and years in and out of psychiatric hospitals with treatment including good old fashioned electric shock therapy. After many years she was lucky enough to be mentally stable and meet and marry a nice man who thought the world of her. She was too old to have children then but her husband had grown up children who accepted her. Her husband eventually passed away and as old age hit, her illness became worse again which meant she had to live in a nursing home. She used to spend many hours sobbing inconsolably and as she was dying I spent a lot of time thinking about how a single incident had made her life mainly unhappy and hoping that she would have peace wherever she went.

So, the night of the day she died, I couldn’t sleep. That may have been the red wine and snails I had for dinner but I was dozing on and off and kept waking up with a start worried about where this lady was and wether she was finally at peace and wishing that I was one of those psychic people who could receive messages from the other side all mixed up with trying to be one of those people and sending telepathic messages to her asking if she was ok…when I woke up to find my bedside lamp switched on. Might have just been a surge but I did sleep well after that. Of course, I wasn’t really sure it was her and dismissed the lamp episode for a few weeks. Then one day as I was leaving my house I noticed a splash of purple in the garden. I thought to myself, “No way!”, but sure enough it was an iris blooming…in mid-winter.

12

Since we’ve been living in our current house there have been a number of very strange sounds and events that defy all of the obvious, logical explanations. Such as- the kids are soundly sleeping upstairs, and my wife goes up to bed while I decide to watch TV a little while longer (a common occurrence). About 10 minutes after my wife goes up, I hear someone run down the steps from the bedroom level to the main level of the house, one level up from the TV room. The steps are bare wood and the house is about 50 years old, so they’re creaky as well.

I mute the TV and wait for my wife to come around the corner to tell me something, but she doesn’t. I walk to the steps and she’s not there; I go to the bedroom hallway and check on the kids, they’re still asleep. I stand in the doorway of my bedroom and my wife sees me there, so I ask her “did you just come downstairs?” “No.” “Well, someone did” I reply. This has happened on a few occasions.

No, the sound didn’t come from the TV; no, nobody else (living) was in the house; no, we don’t have a pet; no, I wasn’t asleep and dreamed/imagined it. We live in a detached single-family home, not a townhome and it wasn’t the sound of one of the neighbors at their house. When you know the familiar sound of someone walking down the most-used staircase in the house, you know it.

This is just one example but all of the freaky occurrences in our house are similar.

13

Our bathroom is at the top of the stairs, on the second floor. The hallway outside it is weirdish: dark and twisty (it does a u-turn), and if you stand too long in a certain spot–especially with the light off–your hair starts standing on end.

That one time, the window in the bathroom was not open. There was no cross-breeze from anywhere. Nobody was anywhere near the bathroom at the time.

I am therefore at a loss to explain why the door suddenly and very loudly slammed shut with an almighty bang.

I was sitting downstairs, and I swear I didn’t move or breathe for at least two or three minutes.

14

I have 2 types of dreams: standard, run-of-the-mill dreams, and ‘visits’.

A ROM dream always has a surreal, cartoonish quality to it. I often make the analogy to Wackyland in the late-run Bugs Bunny cartoons.

A ‘visit’, however, is vivid, life-like to the point that if I didn’t wake up afterwards I’d never think it wasn’t reality, and always involves a dead loved one coming back to visit and check up on me. Visits may have a little bit of creepiness to them at times, but never have they failed to to be positive overall,

The inexplicable one is a visit that happened before my mother actually died. She had about 3 weeks to go, and I was at home about 2 hours away. In it, I was meeting Mom for Saturday breakfast at a greasy spoon restaraunt, and I was puzzled because she looked healthy.

“Mom, why are you here? I know you’re in bed, dying of cancer. No, wait. Don’t answer me. Just let me look you over instead.”

“The way you see me now is the way I want you to remember me, and not as I really am.”

When I woke up, I made a bee-line to the phone and called my sister, just to make sure Mom hadn’t died during the night.

15

I have always been the one in the family to “see dead people”, and my family has quite a history of paranormal events, so my mom was quite relaxed with the fact that my dad came to visit me for a while after he died, and that when she would take me places when I was a kid, I spoke of people talking to me that had died in those places years before. I learned to shut it out, or something, as I grew up, but as a married adult I lived in an old house that had belonged to a doctor. He had died in the bedroom downstairs, but I always heard him come up the stairs (creaky century-old wooden stairs), pause at each kid’s bedroom, and then walk down the hall. His steps always were slow, as if he were tired. Once I saw him in our kitchen, dressed in 1940’s suit and fedora, very thin and tired-looking. I always felt sorry for him, as if he just couldn’t give up taking care of someone, even if he were dead.

16

Mine is sorta dumb,but I still think about it 25 years later.

I was walking down a hall in my high school,I was the only one in the hall,the only thing near me was a bench,no vents,no doors,just the bench…I dropped my pencil.
I could not find the damn thing,I spent at least 10 minutes looking for it, even took off my shoes to check if it had slipped in them somehow.

17

I had a some bad health in 2005. As I lay in my hospital bed, on some major pain killers, no one sure if I would make it or not, I told Mom that Dad was there with some friends.

I am subject to hallucinations from pain medicine, so this is easy to shrug off.

Except all the other ones went away when I fell asleep. When I woke up, they would be gone.

But every time I woke up that day I would tell Mom that Dad was there - with some friends. She would patiently explain that Dad was gone and I would smile, say No, he is right over there and I would always point to the same corner. This hallucination was persistent.

Whether medicine induced or not, it is nice to think Dad still looks out for me when things are bad.

18

Hrm. Did you buy my aunt’s place?
I’ve told this story here before, but I’ll repeat myself. I was somewhere in the 10-12 year-old neighborhood, and for whatever reason, my folks had put me in the care of my aunt for a weekend (I suspect there was some family emergency, but I don’t know what it was- my family keeps quiet in emergencies). She lived (with, at the time, her husband and four children) in an enormous mansion.
On the sunday of my visit, I was sitting downstairs in the library watching television and trying to find a book appropriate for my age. I heard my aunt calling me, and, not being overly-familiar with the layout of the place, just sort-of followed her voice. Eventually I found her folding laundry, and she and I chatted about the day’s schedule. Afterwords, I started trying to thread my way back to the library. The thing is, I didn’t remember the path I’d taken, and when I finally realized where in the house I was… Well, it paused me. I was on the second floor. The library was on the first floor. I know, for a fact, that I never ascended stairs or any sort of incline. I just somehow -ended up- on the second floor.

I’ve often wanted to go back and figure out how it all happened. Unfortunately, several years later, my aunt and uncle got divorced, and while my uncle retained my family’s good will (for reasons that I mostly agree with), my aunt retained the house. Not insurmountable, but about 2 years ago she ended up selling the place, so now I may never know exactly what happened.

19

Kids can be good at pretending to be asleep. I know I was. :slight_smile:

20

Mine happened this past weekend. We have a 2 year old who was conceived about 7 months after my father died, so he’s never known a grandchild. My husband’s father died when my husband was 18, so our daughter has no one she calls ‘Grandpa’. She’s never even said the word before, as far as we know.

This weekend, the 3 of us were hanging out in the living room, when Susie looked toward the opening to the hallway, pointed and said, “Grampa…here”. My husband and I looked at each other, then she said it again, “Grampa…here”.

About 10 minutes later, we were all in the master bedroom and she pointed toward the doorway to the master bathroom and said it again.

The other weird thing is that I’d been thinking about my father last week. He was a yeller when I was a kid. I had a bad few mornings with Susie and raised my voice a few times in frustration. I was thinking that I didn’t want to do what my own father did.

I had stopped believing in the supernatural a long time ago, but that was very weird. Our only question was, which grandfather was it? Of course, she’s 2 and we’ll never know, but it’s nice.