After my father’s death, an unsettling atmosphere crept into our home that seemed to lurk just below the surface of everyday life.
While my mother began visiting more often in an attempt to provide comfort, her presence brought with it an unshakable sense of dread, especially for my daughter Cindy. Every time Grandma came, it was like a dark cloud hanging in the air, overshadowing the warm memories we once shared. The contrast between the comforting warmth of her mother’s visits and the fear etched on Cindy’s face became increasingly disturbing. As the weeks passed, it became clear that something unusual was going on, a mystery that I felt compelled to solve.
My mother started going more often after my father died. Her presence was comforting during those lonely months, but my daughter Cindy was experiencing a strange development. Cindy cried uncontrollably and avoided Grandma like the plague whenever Mom came to visit. Mom refused, saying that she had just showered Cindy with too much love and care. However, I found this explanation unsatisfactory. When it was just the two of us, Cindy was always the ideal child.
One afternoon after another crying episode from Cindy, I decided it was time to find out the truth. I placed her on the sofa in the living room and she held her beloved stuffed rabbit tightly in her fists.
“Hunny, why are you crying when grandma is here?” I tried to ask quietly and in a light tone.
Cindy looked into my big, teary eyes.
“For a friend,” she told herself.
My heart skipped a beat. “Which friend? Darling, she always comes alone.”
Cindy shook her head firmly and said, “No, Mom. She never goes anywhere without a boyfriend. He’s scary.”
A chill ran through my body. “Cindy, what do you mean? What does that boyfriend look like?”
Cindy looked around cautiously before whispering, “Mom, look at that man. He always stands behind Grandma and he’s quite tall. He gives me a sour look and advises me not to tell anyone about him.”
A small lump appeared in my throat. “Grandma never brings anyone with her, Cindy, honey. Are you sure it’s not all in your head?”
Cindy gave me such a serious face when she said, “Mom, I’m not dreaming. He’s real. And I’m scared of him.”
I hugged Cindy tightly and tried to calm her down as my thoughts raced. How is that possible My mother never mentioned that she had a boyfriend let alone invited him along.
However, Cindy’s concern was evident and palpable.
I knew I had to talk to my mother about it.
Then when Mom came, I watched her carefully. She exuded the same warmth, compassion, and mild tyranny as normal. However, Cindy’s remarks still stuck in my mind. I decide to tackle Cindy as she crouches at my feet.
I shuddered a little and continued, “Mom, Cindy says she sees a man with you when you come over.”
“What are you talking about?” my mother asked with a pale face and wavering voice.
“Cindy talks about a towering man who intimidates her and tells her to shut up about him. Do you want to tell me something? I pushed, nervousness building.”
My mother took a deep breath and sat up, looking more exposed than I had ever seen her.
“I was hesitant to share this with you,” she murmured, her voice shaking. “I… I started seeing him after your father went crazy. He was following me. Cindy is now reporting seeing him, so I don’t think I’m delusional anymore.”
A chill ran down my spine. “Daddy?
Do you believe Cindy sees her father’s ghost?
Said, mom. “I never meant to scare Cindy or you. I felt like I was going crazy. But maybe he’s here after all if Cindy notices him too.”
Maybe he’s angry, or maybe…”
That evening we decided to take action against this disturbing presence. I was put in touch with a spiritual counselor in the area who was known to help families dealing with a strange phenomenon. She agreed to visit the next day.
As soon as the counselor arrived, she felt someone was there. She informed us that although my father’s soul was indeed lingering, it was not malevolent after a long session of prayers and ceremonies. Despite being disoriented and trapped in two other realities, he continued to try to keep us safe.
The counselor helped us perform a farewell ceremony that would help my father’s spirit find rest. Then there was a lighter feeling in the house and Cindy stopped crying when my mom came.
When Mom and I sat down, we told Cindy that although Grandpa was still watching over us, he was now in a happy place and would no longer be a threat to her. Cindy smiled and looked relieved.
Ultimately, this event strengthened our family bond. We learned that it was okay, to be honest about our worries and emotions, and we took comfort in knowing that my father’s love for us continued even after his death.
The troubling events surrounding my daughter’s reactions to mom’s visits eventually turned into a deep journey of healing for our family. Our experience, initially marked by fear and confusion, revealed deeper truths about love, loss, and connection beyond the grave. Through Cindy’s innocent perspective, we discover not only our father’s lingering presence but also our own unresolved grief.
As we navigated this strange and emotional landscape together, we found comfort in each other and discovered that open communication can bridge even the greatest of differences. The rituals we performed with the spiritual advisor not only helped guide my father’s spirit to peace; but they also fostered a renewed bond between my mother, Cindy, and me.
Over time, the shadows that once darkened our home lifted, allowing us to cherish memories of my father without fear. We replaced the tears with stories to ensure his legacy lived on in our hearts. Our newfound understanding and compassion strengthened our family bonds and taught us that love remains a powerful force, even in the face of loss.