Spirits & Storms

For most of my life, I never told a soul I could see ghosts. It seemed too much of a 'look at me' topic of conversation, and I already felt self-conscious about it as it was. When you're young, you desperately want to fit in, and claiming to see ghosts automatically pastes a freak label on your forehead.

Funny thing about getting older. You start to care less and less about perception and more about being true to yourself. I decided it was time to use some of my experience and put it into the books I write (with a shot of romance, of course).

That's one reason I wanted to write The Devil To Pay as part of a series. It'll give me a chance to explore how people die and my theories on the afterlife.

From time to time I'll tell a ghost story from my past here, but today I want to relate something that was told to me by a family member.

Several years ago, my brother-in-law died of cancer. He was a relatively strong young man and he probably lived longer than he wanted to considering the pain he had to endure. Greg and I didn't make it to his bedside when he died, but most of my family was there. 

In the moment when he passed, my brother, who was sitting in a chair next to my brother-in-law's bed, felt a strange sensation. It was as if a rush of wind had punched him. It was tangible and alive, striking him like a marble in a pinball machine.

Was that my brother-in-law's spirit moving on? I might've expressed doubt had it been another member of the family relating this story, but my brother is a down-to-earth sort of fellow. It startled him so much he had to tell someone.

Since my brother-in-law's death, other strange things had happened. Most noticeably from his toddler, who at the time didn't understand the concept of death. She claimed to see him every once in a while. For several months afterward, she often delivered cryptic messages that a three-year old couldn't possibly understand.

After the funeral, I sensed his presence in his den, but nowhere else. It gave me a chill knowing he was there, separate, yet among a house full of family and friends.

I had a feeling he wasn't ready to move on and it saddened me. I desperately wanted to know what he was feeling. I wanted to offer comfort and tell him that at least two of us still knew he was there.

He was a good guy and I know his family always came first. I'd like to think that was true even after he passed away.

I hadn't heard any more stories since his passing, so I hope he finally found peace and moved on.

Have you ever noticed something surreal after a death?

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Wishing everyone on the eastern side of the US a safe weekend. Hope Irene doesn't give you a lot of grief.