
Christina’s Experiences
I first would like to thank you for launching “Reader Experiences.” For years I’ve taken what has happened to me… and buried it. It isn’t something that most people understand, and I was thought of as having an over-active imagination with no regard to my feelings. By reading what others have experienced it will give readers the validation they need and deserve. Not to mention having a place for people to go. I have included some more of my experiences with the first one beginning at the age of four.
The year was 1972 and I was four years old. I had not seen my father in three months and I didn’t understand why. It was as if a piece of me had been cut off. I was completely torn apart over his absence. I remember running into the two story traditional house of my parent’s close family friends. When I saw him in the kitchen, where so many of our memories were, leaning against the kitchen counter in deep conversation with his friends (over the separation of my mother) I became overjoyed with excitement for he was a sight for sore eyes. I ran inside screaming, “Daddy!” with my brother running close behind me. His reaction was to sternly tell us to go upstairs and get into bed without a hug or kiss. I felt his rejection as if he had slapped me in the face. I was devastated. I had just gotten off a five hour flight from California to Indianapolis, Indiana and his behavior cause me to feel abandoned and unloved.
My heart was aching for my father who I wished would walk in the door at night, set his brief case down, and bend down on one knee with his hands held out to embrace my brother and I who would come running into his arms screaming excitedly, “Daddy’s HOME! Daddy’s HOME!” He would hold us so close and tell us how much he missed us after being away all day. After dinner he would get out his guitar and sing to us while I would climb up the back of his chair and put my arms around his neck, take a deep breath smelling his aftershave and squeeze him as hard as I could. He would be facing my three year old brother who was sitting on the green couch, who was named after my father’s best friend that he served with in the military. My brother would be-bop to father’s music, his little body dancing and swaying. My mother would be doing the dishes. We waited all day long for this moment with our father. That’s how I pictured seeing him again so his reaction was to say the least heartbreaking. I was sobbing, walking slowly up the yellow carpeted stairs. I could hear my parent’s arguing and their friends acting as mediators. My chest hurt so badly. I could hear the rain and wind outside the second story window as I buried my head into my pillow trying not to wake my parent’s friend’s kids who were sleeping in the same room. The pain of rejection and loss was so overwhelming that I couldn’t sleep. I just sobbed and sobbed. As I turned over, with tears rolling down my face, I caught a glimpse of something hovering just outside the bedroom window. It startled me and I pulled the blankets up over my face and gasped. I went from heart ache to terror. I didn’t understand what this fluorescent blue glowing light was. It took the shape of a bird, an owl to be exact and perched on the branch just outside the window just looking at me. Then peace and love came over me and my gasping and sobbing came to a sudden stop. I eventually fell asleep with this light watching over me.
Years later, when I was twenty-seven years old, I had another eye opening encounter. I had just finished brushing my teeth and turned on the TV in my bedroom. I kept getting this feeling that someone was watching me. I thought this is crazy. I’m alone, missing my son, who was visiting with his father, and tired from work. I usually kept the television on all night. I thought to myself this is silly. I’m 27 years old and still sleeping with a night light. I remembered my cousin telling me about how he spent the weekend alone in our grandparents old Victorian three story house. He was eighteen and scared to sleep alone in that great big house so he got out of bed and went into the attic. He stood there in complete darkness. Nothing happened so after that he went to bed without being afraid. He faced his fears and I thought so will I. So I decided to turn the TV off. As I got into bed and was in the middle of pulling the blankets up to my chest a face appeared to me less than an eighth of an inch away from my face. It was a bald man and he shook his head from side to side while smiling at me. He was formed of that same pale blue fluorescent light. I screamed for what seemed like minutes but in reality was seconds. I closed my eyes waiting for something to happen to me. I opened my eyes and it was gone. I jumped out of bed and ran to turn on the bathroom light, reached for the Bible and read it until I fell asleep with it clutch in my hands hours later. I think I always doubted my instincts because I didn’t understand them. I feel it was trying to show me that indeed I was being watched.
In December 2004 I was just beginning my newspaper route delivering the newspaper for extra income. It was 1:30 in the morning. I was just coming into town off the highway and was in the middle of singing off key to Rascal Flatts’ “I’m Moving On” when I was startled by a large four or five foot birdlike creature with skin like a reptile and wings that spanned out six feet. It was perched like a bird on the overhead lights in the middle of the road and then jumped across from one light to the next before disappearing. I was instantly terrified. Thankfully, I didn’t see its face. I had no idea what it was. I kept thinking this is unreal. Then I would rationalize that maybe a large overgrown owl. But an owl doesn’t have skin like a reptile. Five months later I’m watching an episode of the Montel Williams Show and a woman asks Sylvia Brown a question. She gave an exact description of what I saw only she saw the face. I was terrified when she said it had red eyes and monkey looking face. I instantly thought of that night on my route. I didn’t say a word for fear of being made fun of. I felt validated and not alone when Sylvia explained it was a bleed through of dimensions. I thought this must have been what I experienced too.
I’ve had dreams that come true. I’ve had a family member come to me and warn me that they had just died at age nineteen. In the house I currently live in, which was in my husband’s family for over forty years, we’ve experienced lights flickering on and off though out the house and had the electrician out twice in two of the four years we’ve lived here only to be told nothing is wrong with the wiring. I’ve been in conversations with a relative and opened my son’s bedroom door, which was his great grandfather’s room at one time, to see a black shadowed outline of a small five foot man jump off the bed and dart into the closet door, going through the closed doors. I’ve heard footsteps and smelled cigarettes without any physical reason for those things to be there.
When my son was two years old, I had just gotten him out of a bath, and we were singing “the wheels on the bus go round and round”. Suddenly I got this feeling we weren’t alone, that we were being watched. I didn’t say anything to my son but continued singing. Several seconds later my son screamed, “He’s peeking! He’s peeking!” I was alone in the house and it was seven o’clock on a dark, cold winter night. A rush of fear came over me and then I thought, no it’s only grandpa. I continued to sing and reassure my son but inside I was uneasy to say the least.
That same year, when my son was two we were having a play date with three other children. They were all blonde girls and had just come inside from playing in the sprinklers. This was in June 2004 and they were still in their bathing suits jumping on our California King Bed. I thought I wish my grandpa was here to see this how precious the kids were. I was in the middle of catching a Kodak moment when I felt something hit me on the head and then bounce off the camera and onto the floor. I was saying , “smile and say cheese kids,” when one of the girls looked up and pointed as I felt something hit my head. It was a dime that dropped straight out of the ceiling. On it the date was 1988, the year my grandpa died. I was in shock.
All I can say is that there is so much we don’t know. I know we are not alone in this world. These experiences have shaped who I am today. Yes I’ve been terrified and comforted. I truly believe that life in itself is a miracle. I believe that all the answers to so many questions will be answered when we move on from this world and into the next.
Christina 40, mother of three