How many of you feel uncomfortable talking about ghosts, psychics, UFO's and all those subject that are classified as Paranormal? I know I am. I don't openly start a conversation with someone I'm not very familiar with about things like that. I don't volunteer that I've lived in a haunted house and have seen ghosts. I don't want to be labeled as crazy or delusional. In fact, when I recently confided in someone very close to me that I did believe in ghosts and had a personal experience with hauntings, I was laughed at. I then got lectured about how childish and ridiculous the whole thing was. I was belittled and made to feel stupid. It cut me to the bone and I still am hurt today.

I am a scientist at heart. I love science. And this paranormal stuff just doesn't fit in my scientific brain. And yet, I have personally experienced things I can't explain. Oh sure, people will explain away anything, but from my own experience, I just can't say that any explanations fit my circumstances. So either my mind is swiss cheese up there or there's something to this paranormal stuff. And the scientist in me wants to find out.

Paranormal is a huge and somewhat vague term. Many things fall under this "umbrella" if you will. I am going to concentrate here with ghosts and hauntings. I'll work on a separate lens for Psychics and Mediums. So read on, in the cover of darkness where no one will know your secret. And share with us your experiences.

It started when I was only 3 years old. A simple white farm house built in the late 1800's occupied in 1974 by a man, his wife and only child (me). It was a nice house, quiet and simple. Things were great until the next door neighbor hung himself in the kitchen. Six months later, all hell broke loose.

The first sighting was actually by my mother. She saw the poor man sitting at her kitchen table one early morning. He was hunched over the table with his head in his arms and looked as if he was crying. She quickly returned to the bedroom and crawled into bed and under the covers. But she didn't wake my father.

After that, little things started to happen in the house. My mother was a stay at home mom at the time and as I said before, I was only 3 or 4 years old. Doors would open and close and we would hear scratching noises in the walls and floors. It's on old house and old houses make funny noises right? How about this one then. My parents were paranoid about me locking myself into any rooms as some children will do. So they removed the locking doorknobs. One day I was in the bathroom and the door slammed shut. I couldn't open the door. My mother couldn't open the door. It was shut tight. Wouldn't budge. She panicked and called my father at work. I was crying my eyes out just sitting on the floor. The door then opened on it's own. Yes, it happened.

I hated going to sleep at night. Terrified of it. Why? Monsters under the bed? No, just that bothersome ghost! He would speak to me and keep me awake. And I would be punished and spanked every night for making such a fuss. I quickly learned then to keep these things to myself.

As things continued and my mother started to complain more and more to my father about them, he finally decided we needed to move. And move we did.

Things were great in the new house. I started school when I turned 5 and my mother started a new job. Life was normal. For a while. One night in my bedroom, the posters in my bedroom fell off the walls. I had a huge Star Wars poster next to my bed. No big deal, things like that happen right? This room was always colder than any other room in the house. The closet door had a mind of it's own. It did NOT want to stay closed. I moved to a different room. Various relatives who came to stay with us over the years also began to have strange experiences in that room. Eventually no one would sleep in that room and we turned it into an office.

When I turned 6, my grandfather died. I had a very special relationship with my grandfather. I was the first grandchild and he was so smitten with me. I have such fond but too short memories of him. I knew he had died before anyone else did other than my grandmother and the nurses and doctors. He had Leukemia and it ravished him. This huge bear of a man was taken from us in what seemed only a mere blink of the eye. I quickly and matter of factly told my teacher at school that my grandfather had died this morning. She called my father who took me home and sat me down and tried to explain to me my grandpa was dead. I said, "I know!" and couldn't understand why everyone was so upset. That was that and I didn't see my grandpa again until I turned 16 years old. He came to see me that night when I went to bed. He showed up in a black suit and brown shoes (how odd) and said, "Happy Birthday Kimmie and sweet 16." He was the only one who called me Kimmie. Later I found out he was buried in a black suit and brown shoes because he didn't own black shoes and they didn't have time to get some.

Other experiences happened in the house with my parents but that's another section at a later time.

One of the most interesting experiences happened to me in a rental home in 2001. From the moment we moved into the house, I felt there was something odd about it. What would give me that idea? Well let's see..... the smell of flowers suddenly in a room, the smell of cigarette smoke and no one smokes, the smell of dinner being cooked complete with pots and pans banging in the kitchen and no one was there to list a few. These things were not frightening and for some reason I began to address the odd occurances by saying it was just "Rose" hanging around. Who is Rose? I have no idea, I just used the name since the flowery smell reminded me of roses.

After about 6 months of things out of place, having the feeling of a hand brushing my cheek, etc., one early morning I was alone in the house, in bed. The sun was already up and the phone rang. I answered the phone, had a quick conversation and went back to bed. As I laid down on my back I saw movement in the doorway. I turned to look and an elderly woman was stading there. As solid as any person. For some reason I was not scared at all. She was wearing a yellow house coat and white fluffy slippers. Her hair was grey and she looks very pale and sick. She said almost crying, "I'm so cold and tired and I don't feel good. Can I come into bed with you and get warm?" Well I was not about to invite a dead person into my bed. So I replied, "You need to go into the light. Do you see the light? It's so warm there. Your family is waiting for you and there's no more pain over there." She didn't reply to me. Instead I saw her move across the room to the foot of my bed and stare at the corner toward the ceiling. Then she was gone. Instantly. No mist or fading. Just gone. Nothing happened in that house again. It felt empty after that. I guess she went into the light. If there is one.

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