I Asked to See a Ghost. Big Fucking Mistake.

Years ago, I was involved in an online Lightworkers forum. I eventually became one of its moderators.

Apparently, I Put in a Request

We talked about all kinds of spiritual experiences. Things people had seen, things they’d felt, and things that couldn’t easily be explained.

I knew several people who claimed they could see dead people. Two of them were very close to me, and after hearing so many of their experiences, I started wondering why nothing particularly exciting had happened to me lately.

I mean, here I was, listening to everybody else’s stories, and I had nothing.

Not a ghost. Not an apparition. Not even a little something out of the corner of my eye.

So I decided to put in a request with the universe.

I wanted to see something that would let me know there was life beyond death. Something that told me there was more to existence than this world we walk around in every day.

Or maybe I specifically asked to see a dead person.

It’s been years, and I honestly can’t remember my exact thought request.

Whatever I said, I apparently got my point across.

A Midnight Trip to the Bathroom

At the time, my husband and I weren’t sleeping in our master bedroom. We’d moved into a bedroom down the hallway, next to our young daughter’s room, so she could get used to sleeping in her own room while still having us nearby.

Our master bedroom was at the other end of the house, with its own big bathroom.

And one night, at some god-awful hour, I woke up needing to pee.

Now, I could have used the little bathroom near where we were sleeping.

But why the hell would I use the kids’ bathroom when I had a perfectly good big-ass master bathroom?

So off I went.

I walked through the house, went into the master bathroom, did my business, and headed back out.

And let me make something perfectly clear here.

I WAS WIDE FUCKING AWAKE.

I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t half asleep, stumbling around trying to figure out where I was.

I had gotten out of bed, walked through the house, and gone to the bathroom.

I was awake.

So I walked out of the bathroom and glanced to my right.

And there she was.

Mrs. McDade.

That’s what we’ll call her, anyway.

Standing there.

Looking right at me.

A woman who was dead.

A woman I had met exactly ONE time in my entire life.

Well, That Wasn’t the Reaction I Expected

And what did I do?

Did I calmly ask her why she was there?

Did I say hello?

Did I thank the universe for finally answering my request?

HELL NO.

I SCREAMED BLOODY MURDER.

And just like that, she disappeared.

Well, that was enough for me.

I took off running out of that master bedroom, through the living room, and down the hallway.

Straight into my daughter’s room.

Because apparently my first thought after seeing a dead woman standing in my bedroom was that I needed to make sure my little girl was okay.

She was fine.

ME? NOT SO MUCH.

I dashed back out, jumped into bed, and threw the covers over my head.

Because, as everybody knows, a blanket is the ultimate protection against supernatural visitors.

By this point, all my screaming and running around had woken up my husband.

“Tina, are you okay?”

“Nnnnooooo.”

“What’s wrong?”

“G. G. G. G. GHOOOOOOOST!”

I’m sure that cleared everything right up for him.

Of All the Dead People in the World...

Now, here’s the part I’ve never understood.

Of all the people in the world, why Mrs. McDade?

I barely knew the woman.

I remember meeting her and talking to her once. That’s it. One conversation.

She had been very close to my husband. She’d known him since he was a kid.

But me?

We weren’t friends. We didn’t have some deep spiritual connection. I wasn’t sitting around reminiscing about her.

So why on earth would she be the one standing there looking at ME?

Was she there because of my husband?

Was she just passing through?

Did the universe look at my request and decide, Well, she’s available. Send her in?

I have absolutely no idea.

And I still don’t.

All I know is that I asked for something that would convince me there was more to this world than what we can ordinarily see.

And sometime later, I walked out of my bathroom and saw a dead woman standing in my bedroom.

You can believe whatever you want about ghosts, spirits, or what happens after we die. I’m just telling you what I remember seeing that night.

And I can tell you one more thing.

I never said I wanted the experience to scare the living shit out of me.

So, Universe, thanks for answering my request.

But next time, how about a little warning?

Or better yet, just send me a fucking postcard.