This story a part of the True Ghost Stories page on Obiwan's UFO-Free Paranormal Page. Please do not copy or distribute without permission from Obiwan and/or the original author!
Date: Thu, 8 Oct 1998 10:18:33 -0400
To: obiwan@ghosts.org
From: "Marie J. Shanahan" (marie@MIT.EDU)
Subject: True Story Submition
Hello.
First of all, I want to congratulate you on creating a terrific website. I have been reading through the stories for a few weeks now, and I find the quality to be fantastic! I am so sick of reading trash regarding this stuff. My name is Marie Shanahan from Boston, MA. I am like some of the others that have sent you their stories. I have been having experiences with this stuff since I was small child. I am one of those people who must have inherited the ability to see, hear and communicate with spirits from a relative or something. Because it has always come very naturally. My Grandmother had "the sight". So I probably get it from her. I have many, many stories to tell. Varying from simple and really sort of sweet, to complex and what can only be called "brutal". So as you might have guessed, I have encountered a number entities in my time. And no, I am not pulling your leg. Everything I am about to tell you is the God's truth. Like I said, I have seen the garbage out there, and I wouldn't send this if it was bulls*@t!! Believe me!
The story that I will relate today is one of the good ones. It happened in the Summer of 1972. I was four years old at the time. I had befriended a little girl that lived across the street and we spent alot of time playing and palling around. One afternoon, we were out in her backyard making "mud pies". We had a great old time for ourselves, but as you can imagine, when we came into her house for lunch, we were covered in mud. Head to toe! Her mother naturally wanted to get us cleaned up before she gave us lunch. She brought her daughter in the bathroom first. In the meantime I was standing in her parlor just looking around. Then "something" told me to go into the kitchen. When I rounded the corner, I seen this kindly elderly woman sitting at the kitchen table. She was in her 70's. I remember she had white/blue hair with very, very blue eyes. She smiled a greeting when I walked in. And I smiled back. I remember that she was wearing gray slacks with a yellow sweater. She told me to come closer. When I did, we chatted for a few minutes. I remember that she was patting my cheeks and shoulders very kindly the entire time. But what I remember most was the smell. She didn't "stink" or anything, but she had that, forgive the term, but "old person" smell. I think it's a mixture of moth balls and denture cream or something! (I mean no disrespect in saying that.)
She told me that it was very nice meeting me in the end, and told me to be a good girl. Then I was called into the bathroom to get cleaned up. When we all came back out into the kitchen, the old woman was gone. I figured she went for a walk or something and didn't think much about it. (What do I know, I was four!)
And that was that. The next day, I was back at my friends house and I was sitting in the kitchen with my friend and her mother. I wondered what happened to the "nice old lady", so I asked my friend's mother where she was? She didn't know what I was talking about. The woman never told me that she was related to the little girl or her mother, but I somehow *knew* that she was my friend's Grandmother. So I said "her Grandmother", pointing at my friend. I told the mother what happened that day and how I met and talked to the "nice old lady". Her mother told me that I was imagining things. That there was nobody in the house that day. She said that it sounded exactly like her mother but that was impossible as she lived in Toronto, Canada!
I remember shaking my head and insisting that no, she was here. I seen her. I spoke to her. She was very nice. Her mother told me that I was mistaken and was imaging things. I knew that she was wrong, but the matter was dropped.
A few days later, I asked to go and play with my friend and my mother sat me down to tell me that they had to fly very away to Canada because my friend's Grandmother went to Heaven!!
They had to fly back for the funeral.
The Grandmother apparently came back to say goodbye and I just happened to have been in the right place at the right time.
True story. Honest to God!!
I have many, many more to tell. And I would love to talk to somebody who has actually experienced much of the same. I hope that you post this story on your web sight as, who knows, it might bring some comfort to somebody who has lost a loved one. For me, it is positive proof that we "survive" death somehow. That we do, truly, go on.
Marie Shanahan Boston, MA.