25: Moving On
2009
The human heart is a miraculous organ. Even though it’s only roughly the size of a clenched fist, on average it beats seventy-two times a minute. That’s every minute of every day for the duration of our lives—even when it’s broken. With both of my children married in the span of two months, I knew this to be true because I’d somehow survived both weddings.
Troy’s wedding was as beautiful as Keshia’s had been. With the church building once again decorated and full of family and friends, I watched my son, my baby, say, “I do.” The wedding couldn’t have gone any better and Troy, well, he was the most handsome of all grooms.
Life was moving fast. Troy not only had a new wife, but a new house as well. He’d purchased his first house right before the wedding and as far as we could tell, his new house was free of ghosts.
That was not the case with Keshia and Stephen. The ghost or ghosts that had taken up residence with Stephen were still there.
Keshia and Stephen lived close by and they were good about coming over to visit. After leaving our house one evening, Keshia called me when they got back to their apartment. She told me Stephen wanted her to call and say thank you.
Always being grateful for gratitude, I told her to tell him he was welcome. I then asked what he was thanking me for.
She laughed as she told me that maybe the words “thank you” weren’t quite right. She said it was more like, “We can thank your Mom for this!”
Keshia explained that, since they were saving money for a down payment on a house, she had been complaining to Stephen about him leaving the lights on. When they got home from our house, they noticed a light shining through the living room window. Keshia had been the last one to leave, so Stephen was now giving her a hard time about their high electric bill.
As they walked up to the door, they noticed the light was giving off an orange glow. They couldn’t decide which one of their lights would do this, but once they unlocked the door and went in, the apartment was completely dark. There were no lights on anywhere.
My protective radar kicked in. I asked her if she was certain no one was in the apartment. Easing my fears, she told me they had checked the entire apartment and no one was there. She said they had locked both doors before leaving and both doors were still locked when they got home.
I could hear Stephen laughing and talking in the background. He was saying if I hadn’t told him to take some of the ghosts with him then none of this would be happening.
None of this … hmmm. I asked Keshia what other types of activity she’d witnessed at the apartment. She said there was the “normal stuff,” like hearing footsteps and seeing doors open and close on their own.
Who, but my daughter, would consider this normal? It struck me then how un-normal her life truly had been. Keshia had lived with and acknowledged ghosts her entire life. I knew all marriages came with a certain amount of baggage, I just hoped Stephen was okay with Keshia’s baggage being ghosts.
I asked her how Stephen was handling all of this. She said he was getting used to it, but the incident with the shishi dogs had sort of freaked him out.
Not even knowing what a shishi dog was, I knew this was a story I wanted to hear. She explained that these were small statues from Japan. It is believed that shishi dogs protect from spirits. One dog welcomes good spirits while the other one guards against evil ones.
I couldn’t imagine why Stephen would even have something like that until Keshia explained one of his friends had gone to Japan and bought them for Stephen as a souvenir. She said that guys were weird; they couldn’t buy each other normal souvenirs like bracelets or t-shirts, but spirit guardian dogs were acceptable.
Then she told me that upon returning home from work one day she found one of the dogs across the room from where it was supposed to be. It was the dog that was meant to guard against evil spirits.
Keshia was used to things being rearranged, so she didn’t think too much about it. Stephen, on the other hand, was a little upset thinking about who … or what … had moved the dog. He also wondered if there was any significance in the fact that the dog that was moved was the one to guard against evil spirits.
In my own experiences, I’d never met a ghost I would consider evil. I’m not saying they don’t exist, but if the ghost now living with Keshia was one of ours, I didn’t think Stephen had anything to worry about.
I was never able to determine which of our ghosts had left. What I did know was our home was as active as ever. Keshia’s room had always had a lot of activity and her moving out hadn’t changed that.
One morning while taking my shower, I heard what sounded like furniture moving around in Keshia’s old room. She’d left a few things, but I didn’t know she was coming to get them. I turned the shower off and yelled out that I’d be out in a minute. As I dried off, I wondered what she was looking for. It sounded as though she was going through her dresser and slamming each drawer.
Just as I was about to open the bathroom door, I heard another loud bang. Whatever had caused that noise visibly shook the bathroom wall. I yelled out and asked her what she was doing. There was no answer. It occurred to me she should be at work by this time of the morning. If it wasn’t her, who was in my house?
Cold fear ran through me as I wondered if an intruder had come into the house. I looked around the bathroom for something I could use as a weapon. I didn’t find anything suitable, so I grabbed the shampoo thinking I could at least rub it in someone’s eyes if I had too. I heard another loud noise and, armed with my bottle of shampoo, I quietly opened the door and peered down the hall.
Her bedroom door was closed. I called out her name again. In response, there was another bang. With my heart racing, I crept to her door, gently opened it, and looked inside. All was quiet and the room was neat and orderly. As I walked further into the room, I saw a mist at the foot of her bed. This mist didn’t really have a specific shape. It just looked like a patch of fog, a vertical patch of fog. As I stood there watching it, it started to dissipate and I could smell the scent of that wonderful perfume. Leaving the room and closing the door, I again heard the sound of furniture moving across the floor.
A few days later, I was in the computer room chatting online with Susan, the woman I’d met at the seminar. I started hearing the sound of furniture moving around in Keshia’s room again. I didn’t want to interrupt our conversation, so I ignored it for a time. The noise grew so loud and intense, I again started to wonder if someone was in the house.
Typing into the chat box, I explained what was happening and told Susan I’d be right back. The noise grew louder as I walked towards Keshia’s room. Even though her room is carpeted, it sounded as though furniture was sliding across a hardwood floor. As soon as I stepped into the hallway, the noise stopped. I opened her door and everything looked as it should.
I went back to the computer to continue my conversation with Susan. Within a few minutes, the noise started again. I could hear the furniture sliding, the dresser drawers slamming, and the sound of something hitting the wall. I described the activity to Susan; she suggested I go take some pictures.
I disconnected from the Internet and found my camera. The noise intensified. With camera in hand and intent on my mission, I was hurrying through the living room when Wes opened the front door.
I screamed.
The noise stopped.
Shocked at his welcome, he asked what was going on.
With my heart slamming in my chest, question after question tumbled out of my mouth. I demanded to know when he got home, what he was doing, how long he had been there and, most importantly, if he was responsible for all the noise I’d been hearing.
Taking my hand, he told me to slow down and tell him what was going on.
I took a deep breath and explained what had been happening. Wes and I tiptoed into Keshia’s room—her quiet, orderly room. There was no mess, no noise, no fragrance, and no mist.
It had been a long time since I’d felt like Wes didn’t believe me. But I could tell by his expression that he at least thought I was exaggerating. It wasn’t long, however, until he experienced this noisy ghost for himself.
A few days later, Wes was working in the house, catching up on some paperwork, while I went outside to do some gardening. I’d been outside thirty minutes or so when he came out and asked me what I had been doing to make so much noise in Keshia’s room.
When I told him I hadn’t been in the house, he looked confused. He said he had gone into the bathroom and while he was in there he heard what sounded like furniture being moved and dresser drawers slamming shut. After checking for himself to make sure Keshia’s old room was in order, he too came to the conclusion that the empty rooms in our house were still occupied.