Okay so this is where I may lose a few people, but honestly I don't much care. If you want to stop reading this now go ahead since it's my blog and I do what I want.
So pretty much for as long as I can remember I've loved anything paranormal/ghosty/spooky etc. Now I say that with the caveat that I am ALSO a huge chicken who likes her sleep so anything TOO freaky and I'm done and can't handle it. Like I want to watch all the paranormal ghost shows but the minute it gets too instense I need to watch a Disney movie to calm down.
Where am I going with this? Well, it's all about beliefs. Now I'm a logical level headed person who has a wildly creative imagination and can't just believe that what you see is what you get. I WANT to believe in ghosts and something beyond, because otherwise I find that just wholly depressing that you die and you're strictly worm food. Granted I choose only to believe in the Casper the friendly ghost-types. Malevolent spirits you can go hang somewhere else.
If something falls off a shelf suddenly, or happens unexpectedly I'm flippantly like oh we have a ghost. I am very sensitive to catching things out of the corner of my eye to find nothing there - although half the time it winds up being a chunk of mascara in my lashes or sometimes a piece of glitter.
After Dad died this really intensified my need for there to be more after death. After all where does all the vibrant energy and love a person like that go? Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, so it had to go somewhere right? (if you have a scientific answer for this you can just keep your mouth shut - no one likes a Debby Downer)
I don't subscribe to organized religion, I'm certainly not opposed to people who do, I love the idea of finding something and putting all your soul into believing it - whatever that thing may be. Good for you people. However, I did grow up saying prayers at night (which in hindsight seems a bit weird considering how non-religious my family was, I'm gonna blame it on weird residual rituals from my parent's own childhoods)
After Dad died, there are a lot of seeming normal yet slightly off things that happen which may be purely coincidence, but honestly it's just most comforting to think of it as signs Dad's sending me, letting me know he's out there and watching me, gently still giving me guidance or letting me know I'm on the right path. It's really only something I share with a very small select group of people, although I guess that is out the window now, whatever.
Okay so this brings me to this morning, when I get a text from my coach/friend/hetro-soulmate Jacquie who was also very close to Dad, and is one of the people I have no problem sharing my weird thoughts with.
She sent me a text saying she was sitting in the Walmart parking lot - waiting for it to open, going through her phone and cleaning out old pictures. She had recently been listening to a book where they talked about orbs of lights in photos being people who have died coming back to be present or show love to the lives of their survivors. When she came across a series of photos from the day she brought Charlie/Splash to Tamrac.
Now having been a purveyor of many ghost hunting shows I know orbs are a big thing, yes it can be chalked up to dust, or a dirty lens, or light flare. But isn't it more fun to think about what else it might be?
She sent me a few of the pictures, but I think now we both know why this ginger horse has managed to worm his way into my cold dark heart so quickly. I like to believe in the magic of this.
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| Charlie is at the top of the hill. |
