Paranormal

So, I asked for this word a while ago and didn’t stick to my plan of writing about it right away. It wasn’t out of apathy over the potential path of the topic, I just got stuck. And then I got busy. Then I got a concussion (skiing on a GREEN RUN at A-Basin!). And now I have a cold. Seeing how there will always be something trying to keep me apart from writing I figured I just needed to buckle down and deal with it already.

I’ve never seen a ghost. I’ve certainly had intermittent odd feelings (pseudo-supernatural?) over the course of my life but have never seen – nor do I really want to see – an apparition. I figure if they have unfinished business with me they can leave a message at the front desk that I’ll receive when I check in, wherever that may be. I’m sure if modern technology can span the globe like it does these days, then there must be a way to communicate between heaven and hell. You can Instant Message in heaven but the only mail carrier in Hell is the USPS? I don’t know. I’m just assuming here.

Regardless, I know many people who have had experiences. In fact, my son has had a couple. Like me, he hasn’t seen anything but he’s spoken in clear detail about two experiences: One was about a kiddo who died when Ben was younger, and the other was when we toured the Stanley Hotel last year. The Stanley is located in Estes Park. It has a beautiful, rich history, and just happens to be the hotel Stephen King was staying in when he was inspired to write “The Shining.” Apparently, the fourth floor has the most paranormal activity and the moment we stepped onto that floor with the tour guide, Ben grabbed my arm and drew very close. The hair on his arm was standing up and he said “I don’t like it here.” We’d been on the tour for about 45 minutes prior to this piece but this was the first time that he reacted like he did. He was clearly freaked out. Shortly after, the tour guide explained some of the paranormal shenanigans that commonly occurred on that floor, many of them involving children. It was a wild experience and certainly left Ben feeling very uneasy. I believe that he has a sensitivity to such things. He is wise beyond his years and is able to see and feel things that most people simply cannot comprehend.

Meanwhile, my daughter is CRAZY about scary stuff. In fact, I’m taking her for an overnight stay at the Stanley for her birthday in two weeks. She is so excited and specifically asked to stay in a haunted room. I did NOT put in that request with the front desk because I’m not sure my nerves could handle it! It’s her big wish though (and there was a Groupon offering an awesome deal) so off we go. I’m sure I’ll have a great blog post after our stay there!

I do like to be scared on a small scale. My brother and I used to have scary movie marathons when we were younger. We could act out “Halloween” in its entirety (minus the naked scene). My step-mom always let us watch the craziest stuff on HBO back in the day. It was one of my happier memories from my kid-years. But just because I like scary movies doesn’t mean that I want to live them out in reality. Besides, this life is scary enough as it is. I don’t need a knife wielding maniac or any sort of poltergeist chasing me in my high heels and short-shorts. I got enough going on. Seriously. If someone were to show up at this moment and say “I’m here to scare the hooey out of you,” I’d probably just give them my “mom look.” You know, the one that communicates “Are you flipping kidding me? Don’t waste my time.” I’m just that tired.

But since that probably won’t happen anytime soon (well, I DO live in Aurora… there’s some crazy things that happen here) I think I’m safe for now. And with that, I’m off to bed. I’ll pull the covers up high so the monsters won’t eat my head first or so I won’t see that scary clown from Poltergeist crawling out from underneath the bed to get me.

Thank you for this word, Sue Kreft. She is an amazingly wonderful woman who was the director at Ben’s school when he was a wee lad. Sue is INCREDIBLE. I’ve opened up to her about my fears and concerns and she never fails to come through as my cheerleader. She encourages. She loves. She accepts. She prays. Unconditionally. For whatever reason she is someone I trust with all my heart, and trust is something I am incredibly guarded about giving. So, thank you, Sue. Thank you for caring for my son. And for me. I love you.