Mustang Rambles

I have had the happy occasion to have had one “ghost experience” in my life. I also have regular dreams about my father and grandfather. Ten days ago I had an MRI on my hip. Two nights ago I dreamed that my father (deceased 1991) visited me and asked how the results of the MRI turned out. I told him and he seemed content. This is a typical dream about my father, he drops in and we talk about how my life is going at the time. These little “visits” have been going on since shortly after his death.

The dreams about my grandfather, who died four years before I was born, are based on my meeting him and we talk about things in general. I’m getting to know him pretty well. I have to admit I’ve always felt cheated by not getting to know him, he was a fascinating man who fought in three wars; the Spanish-American, The Philippine War, and WWI. He married late and raised twelve children and retired after forty years in the Army. So, you see, he had a lot of stories to tell that I never got to hear, and I never got to know first hand what kind of a man he was. The dreams are helping.

My father, who was genius, was a very pragmatic man and didn’t believe in much unless it made sound, logical sense. One night when I was in my thirties, he did tell me about an incident that happened to him in Washington, DC, in the 1920’s. It seems that he had been sent up to the attic on the third floor. The stairs were such that there was a turn, a landing every half-floor. As he was starting back down he put his hand on the banister. He felt a hand close on top of his hand, but he could see nothing. He proceeded to jump down the stairs, landing to landing. End of story. My Dad was not a man to succumb to flights of imagination. This is the only story of this kind he ever told. He usually debunked every movie, TV show, or book that indicated a belief in ghosts or the afterlife. Yet, he believed what he had felt that evening in DC.

My one and only “ghost” experience happened when I was a little child but it is still vivid in my memory. I was at my grandmother’s house in Oregon visiting. I was probably three years old, maybe nearly four (the house was sold and the family moved when I was four). I walked into the living room. There was an old man there with a mustache and tweedy kind of suit and round glasses. He didn’t say anything, but motioned me to the back of the room where is was kind of dark. He reached into the desk and gave me a lollipop. He never spoke a word. And that is that, no more, no less. His image matches his description in his latter years.

So, having laid these things out on this site, I was wondering if anyone else had similar dreams and/or ghost experiences?