I don’t really believe in ghosts, so sometimes thinking back on this makes me uncomfortable, but here goes:
Not witnessed by me, but my Mom and a priest claimed when I was a baby dark figures were seen around my bed so whole family was convinced I had “the gift”. We’re Romani so it’s easy to believe in that kind of nonsense, and it’s VERY easy to trick people doing stuff like “cold reading” and whatnot, so again, I refuse to fortune tell or believe in it cause it’s not verifiable.
Said gift included that incident and another which included an “uncle” (not related) that had full-blown AIDS and was in the hospital. Everybody said he was going to die. We did a road trip across the country, and I saw him and said “you won’t die, not yet” he didn’t and they all flipped.
The day my Grandfathers mother died I told him to call her (no premonitions I just had impulsively said to), and they all thought I saw something. Every family member that died I just knew and basically they had everything sorted before they left. Everybody who thought they were goanna die and I said they wouldn’t didn’t, even if doctors or experts did, my gut instinct was just right somehow. I knew the day my grandmother died. I would have nightmares and dreams about people I knew about stuff that would happen. Even about my own sisters death.
Family kept trying to ask me Sp00ky stuff, I saw figures here and there, but honestly it’s a bunch of hocus pocus. I’m not a psychic.
Most recent “ghost” incident was when I was a CNA at a hospital here in Las Vegas. This was in 2012, I was working in ER. I saw an old black woman asking for help, said she needed me to see her daughter by the heart center. I go to heart center. I see a young black woman standing outside the curtain looking absolutely grey. I ask her “what’s the matter?” And she said “my mother died” and collapsed in my arms. I had to hold her and I bought her a drink and talked to her for a bit, she was not okay, she was diabetic and going into shock and needed help to process losing her mother.
When I peeked behind the curtain, sure enough the old black woman I saw back there was her mom. Fucking spooky. My heart still lurches at it, and I don’t fucking know how, but I saw something.
Ghosts aren’t real. Imagination IS. All I can say. I still to this day am not 100% sure. I’ve seen freaky stuff, I’m not happy about it, but this is what I want to share that I’m fairly certain I remember to the best of my ability.