Weird shit that happened to you as a kid that still doesn't make sense

GRR Spartan wrote:My 20 year old cousin committed suicide and laid at the bottom of the basement steps when his sister found him. Her first call was to my folks because her folks were on vacation with their other 2 kids and in the '60's most rental cottages didn't have phones.

After the funeral and the parents went back to work my mother thought it would okay for me to stay with my 2 cousins who were a couple of years older.

Saw my dead cousin 3 times. Twice in the living room and once when I was going to the basement to get some laundry out of the dryer. Never said anything to my aunt or cousins but asked to go home that night.

I told my mother what I'd seen on the way home. She gave me the don't say anything look and after we got home she talked to my dad who told me to keep what I'd seen to myself.

Roll forward 15 years, 5 years after my mother died and we came across some photo's of my dead cousin with my folks when he was 2-3. My father told me that I had described the clothes my cousin was found in and had also described the way my cousin was found at the foot of the basement steps the same way his sister, my mother and dad had found him before police arrived.

From then on I do believe in ghosts but never saw my mother or father after they died.

CaptainSlow33 wrote:

GRR Spartan wrote:My 20 year old cousin committed suicide and laid at the bottom of the basement steps when his sister found him. Her first call was to my folks because her folks were on vacation with their other 2 kids and in the '60's most rental cottages didn't have phones.

After the funeral and the parents went back to work my mother thought it would okay for me to stay with my 2 cousins who were a couple of years older.

Saw my dead cousin 3 times. Twice in the living room and once when I was going to the basement to get some laundry out of the dryer. Never said anything to my aunt or cousins but asked to go home that night.

I told my mother what I'd seen on the way home. She gave me the don't say anything look and after we got home she talked to my dad who told me to keep what I'd seen to myself.

Roll forward 15 years, 5 years after my mother died and we came across some photo's of my dead cousin with my folks when he was 2-3. My father told me that I had described the clothes my cousin was found in and had also described the way my cousin was found at the foot of the basement steps the same way his sister, my mother and dad had found him before police arrived.

From then on I do believe in ghosts but never saw my mother or father after they died.

Not when I was a kid, but my grandpa was really sick with cancer, alzheimers, and strokes at the end of his life. For the last 4 years or so he was alive, he was just kind of a babbling shell - he was alive, but he wasn't able to have a conversation with anyone, or remember anyone.

One morning when I was up at State, I got up really early (something I never did) and went to have breakfast before class (something else I never did). It was a beautiful day and I decided to leave a bit early and take the long way to class. I was crossing Adams Field, messing with my iPod and glanced up - my grandpa was standing on that path that leads from the Kalamazoo Street bridge down to the gardens. I did what I'm sure looked like a cartoon double-take and there he was - he had a big goofy grin on his face and waved at me. I blinked and he was gone. Less than a minute later, I felt my phone vibrating - I didn't need to answer it. I knew he had just died. I believe in ghosts, but I still can't fully convince myself that I saw him. I really hope that I did, but it also could have been my mind showing me what I wanted to see. Still, that part of campus will always be special to me.

LooseGoose wrote:

CaptainSlow33 wrote:

Not when I was a kid, but my grandpa was really sick with cancer, alzheimers, and strokes at the end of his life. For the last 4 years or so he was alive, he was just kind of a babbling shell - he was alive, but he wasn't able to have a conversation with anyone, or remember anyone.

One morning when I was up at State, I got up really early (something I never did) and went to have breakfast before class (something else I never did). It was a beautiful day and I decided to leave a bit early and take the long way to class. I was crossing Adams Field, messing with my iPod and glanced up - my grandpa was standing on that path that leads from the Kalamazoo Street bridge down to the gardens. I did what I'm sure looked like a cartoon double-take and there he was - he had a big goofy grin on his face and waved at me. I blinked and he was gone. Less than a minute later, I felt my phone vibrating - I didn't need to answer it. I knew he had just died. I believe in ghosts, but I still can't fully convince myself that I saw him. I really hope that I did, but it also could have been my mind showing me what I wanted to see. Still, that part of campus will always be special to me.

Heard too many stories like this to not believe it.