Have you ever walked into a house and immediately had a "feeling" about it? Or a "sense" about a place?
I believe that homes absorb the essence of its occupants. That some of our karma, life force or ene
rgy, call it what you will, soak into the walls.
rgy, call it what you will, soak into the walls. In 1986, we bought our first home. It was a turn of the century house, built in 1913. (The home shown here is NOT ours, though wouldn't it be awesome if it was? I love this old home! I dont have a photo of our old place on digital. I should scan one and post it here soon. For now, I will borrow this local Maple Ridge Beauty). Anyways, the first time we went to view that old home, I fell in love with it. It was so old and run down, but I saw the possibilities and the soul of the home reached out and touched me. We bought that place and made it our home for the next ten years.
We sunk a ton of cash into renovations and converted the ramshackle place into a cozy family home. I loved living there. We were always broke and scraping by to make ends meet. But it was a great place to bring up our three young kids. Nothing really bad ever happened while we lived there. Somehow I always felt that we had a friendly presence watching over us there. Prior to us moving in, it had long been a rental property with a new tenent every few months. So when a family moved in and treated the place with kindness, I think thatmade the presence happy. I believe it looked out for us.
But there came a point when the city decided to widen our road and we decided it would be a good time to move. We put it on the market and it sold the next day. Durin the time between selling the house and moving out, everything started to go wrong. Lights started flickering, pipes burst, the foundation started leaking. I think our friendly spirit was upset that we were leaving.
Keith always chuckled whenever I had mentioned my beliefs that we had a friendly ghost. But I think I am more sensitive to spiritual matters than he is.
One evening before we moved out, Keith was working late and I had gone to bed with the dog curled up at my feet. Something woke me up, and the dog also was awake and looking quite alert towards the bedroom door which was open. I heard the stairs creak and thought, "Keith is home". I turned over to face the door , and lo and behold, there was a man standing in the doorway, but it was'nt Keith. I was not frightened at all. He was stout and was wearing a plaid shirt. He just stood in the doorway looking at me. I said "You must be our friendly ghost, have you come to say good bye?" He nodded once and then was gone. Then the dog jumped down and started running down the stairs. But he was gone from sight.
We bought our current home in 1996. But it wasn't home to me, it was just a house. I missed our old place for a long time and would well up whenever I would go past it. We have been here over eleven years and finally after making alot of changes, I am starting to feel more at home here. Some of our family essence is finally soaking into the walls and joists of this place. Our friendly spirit did not follow us here, I suppose he must be tied to the old place. I hope his new family has filled the void we left behind.
10 comments:
Old houses possessed character, something the new houses lack
In the old days houses were built by hand.
The molding were fashioned by masterful hands each one with its subtle imperfections.
This gave each home a certain individuality, a soul, that grew with the years of life spent in them.
The new houses are as cold as the machines that molded the fabricated wood so as to make into another clone of the thousands that have already been erected.
I always enjoyed that house also, must have been the hours helping with the renos, good job "Holmes on Homes" never came around there to check on what we did.
Sounds like the old house I fixed up in West Virginia. I liked this one also even though now it seems empty with Ellen gone but like you I'm doing what I can to make it a happy home. The cats deserve that much.
oh my god!!! you gave me the creeps reading this post. My father is always saying that he can feel presence and even seen some when he used to live in the capital city of Malta, valletta. We never fully believe him to be honest but i think i shall think twice about this now :)
What an amazing story. My daughter and her husband bought a house that was built 65 years ago, and the original family lived in the house until my daughter bought it. The ghost of the mother of the family is still in the house, and everyone can feel and hear her presence. It's still her home, and she lives there.
Hi Susan,
Cool story! I'm another one who sees well, whatever they are... It doesn't creep me out. I never expect it when it happens, but there you go. Maybe a post about that is in order - Simple Not Easy.
This is an amazing story, Susan! I've never lived in an older home as my father always had to have NEW. But I do believe this happens.
We live in a little old home. Lived here for 28 years. It doesn't have any ghosts (that I know of) but my children were born here (not in the house) and I've finally accepted that we won't be moving to a bigger house. We've fixed the place up the way we like it and now I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Small and cramped it may be - but it's Home Sweet Home.
I believe I saw a ghost once, but I didn't chit chat with it like you did...I screamed and just about peed my pants!
There is something about a house that can feel so right, though. Really feel like home.
Isn't this a good story! I enjoyed every word of it. It's just like an old English ghost story, an old house, dark rooms, cracking staircases and then the silent and disappearing ghost... :-)
Tell us more Susan. Love it.
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