Note 1: Halloween in July? Kinda, sorta. I asked for folks to share their personal ghost stories as I prepare for my debut novel / ghost story to launch this fall. It only seems apt that I should share some of my favorites, right as they come in. This one’s a sweet tale from sister writer and book coach Monica Cox, who “helps communications professionals honor their creative dreams, apply their skills to fiction, and finish their novels.” You can find out more about her by clicking the green button here:
YUP, SOUNDS LIKE GRANDPA ~ A Ghostly Tale by Monica Cox
One summer when my kids were little (think 5 and 2), we went to visit extended family in Rhode Island. One of my aunts lived in my grandparents’ old house (my grandparents long since passed), and so we stayed with her there. They lived on a lake, and my sister and I often went to stay with them for a few weeks every summer when we were growing up.
One night during our visit, my aunt and the kids went to bed early. My husband and I settled into the same furniture my grandparents had since I was probably my kids' ages to relax and watch a little TV before bed. The only TV still had a turn dial on it. We clicked through the sparse offering of channels and settled on the Olympic opening ceremonies that were on that night.
About a half hour in, we heard some noises from the kids' room--someone needed to go to the bathroom or required a glass of water or simply turned over and didn't recognize their surroundings. My husband volunteered to check on them. As soon as he left the room, the television changed channels to the Red Sox game. I instinctively looked around for a remote and actually did find one. On the other side of the room on a table.
I figured maybe the dial was sensitive, and my husband walking by the television had caused it to "jiggle" over to the next option. But when I got up to return to what we were watching, I realized that the game and the ceremonies were several channels away from each other on the dial.
Weird, but whatever.
My husband returned. When I told him what had happened, we shrugged it off to ancient technology.
Then it happened again.
I told my husband how when we were kids and staying with Grandma and Grandpa during the summers, the only way we could stay up late was if we were watching the Red Sox play. I became a lifelong fan as a result. (Hard to do growing up in the south!).
My husband got up and clicked the dial over to the station we had originally been watching. (The game was a blow out one way or the other and not super interesting.)
“But,” he told me, “if the TV acts up again, I’m out.”
Sure enough, two minutes later, the television returned to the Sox game.
"Grandpa insisted we could only stay up to watch the Sox," I reminded him. "His house, his rules."
My husband went to bed. I watched the end of the game. The television never changed channels again.
The next morning, I told my cousin who lived a few doors down about our evening.
For a beat or two, he just looked at me with no words.
Then he laughed. “Yup,” he said. “Sounds like Grandpa."
Note 2: Hope you enjoyed Monica’s story. Look for more personal ghost stories to come (shared with permission and anonymously upon request). I’m finding it fun to collect and share others’ tales as I prepare for the September 6th launch of my debut novel, SECRETS OF THE BLUE MOON! It, too, features a ghost story.
Don’t be scared, though. Ghosts aren’t real. (Or are they…?)
Cheers ~ J
Such a great story. It really makes me wonder.