About 20 years ago we "bought back" a ranch property that my family had owned. My folks had sold it in 1984 when I was a sophomore at A&M. Starting not too long after we moved onto the place, I would "see" something in our bedroom at night. It has pretty consistently happened a couple of times per year for the 20 years we have been back. I attribute to me awakening, when my mind is floating between a dream state and the reality of a pitch dark room.
Most of the time I just see an indistinguishable figure but sometimes I believe it is a woman. I will lash out at the figure if it is within reach. I always get out of bed, warn my wife that something is in the room and turn the light on. At that point I always realize there is nothing there and I could not have seen anything because the room is too dark. I will get another "not again" from my wife.
There has been death nearby. On our place is a pioneer homestead, which we know some of the history. A woman and her infant daughter died in childbirth in the old house in 1872. They were buried on the place, down by the river in a very nice rock grave site. In 1972, their remains were disinterred and moved to a public cemetery, I believe so they would not be lost and forgotten in a pasture. Also, when I was a young kid an elderly neighbor couple died in a house fire. We bought eggs from them and the old lady was always very nice to me. Age once gave me a small panda figure, only about one-inch long but as a five-year old, it was one of my prized possessions.
Our house is almost centered between the two houses where these women died, about 1/4 mile to each, and in the middle of a pretty expansive area with no other homes.
One night, about a year ago, I had another one of my episodes. An old lady appeared to be standing right beside me at the head of the bed. When I saw her I struck at her. Usually that is when the vision disappears but this time the old lady just stood there. She had a kind of half smile on her face an I felt she meant me no harm. I extended my hand as kind of an apology for swinging at her but she did not move. I lay there looking at her for several moments and as I began to stir she faded and I began to realize the room was pitch black and too dark to see anything.
This occasion was different than the others. My delirium hung around longer and I had a definite interaction. Eerily, I felt I knew the person and she knew me. I told my wife the ghost was Mrs. Russell, the woman who had died in the house fire over 40 years ago. The woman who we bought eggs from on a weekly basis. The woman who had given me the little panda over fifty years ago. The little panda that I still have in a box in my closet about 10' from where she stood by my bed.
Likely just dreaming.
You may not be a moron, but some people think you are.
