Pretty cheap to post this when I’m not allowed to respond to it. Would you like to start a new thread where I would actually be allowed to fight ignorance?
It appears that the pro-ghost side is permitted to argue their case all they want, but if anyone responds they get warned by the mods. If you’d really like an answer to this question, I’d be happy to do it in another thread. If you’re not actually interested in discussing it, I won’t bother, though.
Actually, you can. And LD is right – engaging with the people who disagree with your premise is encouraging them to continue to post. Please stop it, because, frankly, I’ve got better things to do today than ride herd on this thread.
But this isn’t the MMP.
Please leave the modding to the moderators.
Note to all
This thread is moving briskly in the direction of being more trouble than it’s worth. Here are the ground rules:
Discussions of whether the phenomena are real or not belong elsewhere. Start a new thread.
Conversations with another poster about “why don’t you believe” or “why do you believe” also belong elsewhere.
This thread is for people to share stories about what they understand to be ghostly phenomena.
And the next time I have to post in this thread it will be to announce that I’m closing it.
twickster, MPSIMS moderator
How in the hell am I getting close to threadshitting? Can you even read?
I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you were writing this post at the time my post immediately above it went up. Because otherwise I’d have to give you a warning here for ignoring moderator instructions.
twickster, MPSIMS moderator
Good assumption.
No prob.
I am so bookmarking this comment for the future.
Will somebody please lock this thread and put it and me out of our misery. Seriously.
Thanks to those who posted stories. They really made me happy for a little while.
To the shitters: nice work. You crapped all over something pleasant and happy and harmless. All in the interest of Truth.
Don’t be such a drama queen. If people, including you, follow the guidelines I have laid out, we can leave the thread open.
twickster, MPSIMS moderator
Just for the record, I hit the report button. It seemed to me that Dio and I were going to get into it over what the point of the thread was, which would be silly, since in the larger world of GD I would agree with some of his points. Rather than have to fabulous posters such as ourselves derail a thread, I figured the mods could just provide guidance one way or the other. That’s what they get the coffee cups for after all. If that was poor form, I sincerely apologize.
By the way, I love these stories. Unfortunately, I never have had an experience like this, and I suspect never will have one. If I did see a ghost, the most shocking thing wouldn’t be the ghost, it would be the fact that it was happening to me, apparently the least supernaturally sensitive person on the planet.
The play here is too rough for me. I’m outta here.
I’ll share a recent one:
My father, a very argumentative man, had two “Bullshit!” songs he would use when arguing with other people, partly to frustrate them and partly to signify “I’m tired of arguing about it”. One was to the tune of Auld Lange Signe (sp?):
(So my father wasn’t Sondheim, what can ya do?)
The other was to the tune of the CanCan:
Lest my father seem particularly crude- well, he could be, but he was also very cultivated in other ways; he taught poetry and probably had committed more verses to memory than anybody I’ve ever known, could quote Shakespeares’ sonnets and the entire text of most Poe poems especially- but he liked his bullshit songs and at least the second one I’m pretty sure from the words was something picked up in his navy days.
Anyway, I hadn’t thought of those songs in quite a while but I had a dream about him recently in which- and I don’t even remember what the dream was about other than something that was ridiculous dreamstuff- but he started singing the Cancan bullshit song. Heh, I thought- that was the only thing I remembered when I woke up.
Later that day my brother called me. I can count on one hand the number of times I speak to my brother in a year. His question:
“What’s the tune of that bullshit song Daddy used to sing? I remember the Auld Lang Signe one but the other… what was that tune to? I was telling a friend about it and wanted to sing it when he starts talking about Glenn Beck again.”
Not saying that it’s evidence of anything, but was definitely weird.
Do we consider Jesus a deceased person or does the whole “and rose again on the third day” disqualify him?
Have you encountered or had a visitation or sign from him you can’t explain? If not, then it doesn’t really matter for the purposes of this thread, does it?
I had a visitation I think from my Dad a couple times. On Christmas eve my brother and I went to midnight mass. Afterwards I asked my brother if we could visit my Dad’s grave as we both don’t get to Ct. much. He said it’s after midnight we will probably get arrested. I talked him into it and we drove in and I got out and said a prayer at Dad’s grave. Then we went to Moms and I went to bed. I couldn’t sleep and I felt my Dad’s presence. It was an odd feeling and it scared me. I started to say the 23rd psalm in my head over and over and it was gone. I don’t know what it was but it was weird.
Also on the way down to Yale to see him before they pulled the plug on him. He died of Leukemia. About an hour into the ride I just felt my Dad’s presence in the car. I started to cry and I knew he was gone. I got to the hospital and ran to his room and my Mom said he died an hour ago. I don’t know what that was but it was strange.
Shortly after my Dad died, I dreamed of him. In the dream, he was young, had horn-rimmed glasses and was in black and white like the pictures we had been looking at. I remember looking at him in the dream and thinking, oh right, he’s dead now so of course he can be however he wants to be. It made perfect sense to me, especially since I know that those years when he was in college were among the happiest of his life - he met my mother and was studying to be a doctor. I woke up very happy, knowing that my Dad could do whatever he wanted to do now that he was free of physical constraints.
Since then I’ve dreamed of him again, but in regular dream ways, not in any way that felt significant.
(FTR, I also don’t really believe in afterlife, but I also am one of those who isn’t willing to say there is no afterlife, just that I don’t know.)
The first Thanksgiving after my uncle died we were all at my aunt’s, which was where we often spent the family Thanksgiving. My aunt was making pies and reminiscing about how she always had to hide them from my uncle, and that she had to get more and more creative about it. For instance, in the dishwasher. To demonstrate she opened the dishwasher (which was never, in its entire history, used to wash dishes).
And there was the ghost of a pie. Or the skeleton of a pie. Or the remains of a pie. Or a pie in the style of the Miss Haversham School of Cooking. Obviously, a pie my uncle had not managed to find. Very likely from the previous Thanksgiving.
First we all laughed, and then we all cried. We would all have rather he had found and eaten that pie.
I don’t really believe in this stuff. But did have an odd experience on my wedding day. I was getting ready in my old bedroom at my parents house. It was just me and my mum in the bedroom. I suddenly started smelling my late granddad’s aftershave in the air. I turned to me mum and asked if she could smell it. (Which was a stupid question. As my mum has no sense of smell.) As soon as I did a noice came from my bed. Not a one-spring-going-back-into-place noise, but a someone-was-sat-on-the-bed-and-just-stood-up noise.
It was very weird. But I like to think my Grandad came to wish me luck on my wedding day.