I was very close to my maternal grandmother and I loved her very much. I was the only grandchild out of 3 who would regularly go to see her or do anything for her. Lots of times when I would go to see her, I'd take us a meal and I'd spend a few hours with her. In the summer, we'd get a drink from the fridge and sit on the porch in the glider and talk. Many times I had asked her to tell me again about the haunted houses she lived in as a child. I loved hearing ALL of her stories, but I loved the haunted ones the best!
My grandmother had strict parents and only one sibling, a sister who was a few years older than her. They lived in other areas before they moved to North Carolina and it was in some of these homes where they had experiences. I remember her saying they lived in Virginia at one time, but I can't remember where else she spoke of.
One home they moved into had wood floors. The entry way was a curved arch and when they moved in, there was a rug in the hallway at the entry. I don't recall the reason the rug was taken up but it was... And they discovered what appeared to be a blood stain on the floor. The floor was scrubbed and scrubbed and finally it seemed to be gone. They'd go to bed that night and the next day, the stain would be back. This went on perpetually, they would clean it and then it would come back. My grandmother said they were finally told that someone had been killed in that house and where the blood stain was, that's where they died.
Another home they moved into was a house that had an upstairs apartment and a downstairs apartment. My grandmother and her family had moved into the upstairs apartment. She told me there were many times when strange noises were heard such as knocks, and particularly this ghost enjoyed locking and unlocking the doors. If they left the apartment and left it unlocked, they would be locked out... If they left and locked it, they'd come home to find it unlocked. Intruders were never found but there were always knocking noises and the locks would be messed with.
In this particular story (it always gives me goosebumps to recall it), they lived in yet another haunted home. My grandmother and her sister shared a room and slept with the bedroom door open. Both of them could see the hallway and directly across from their room was a painting hanging on the wall. This painting was a picture of a rural area... There was a road that wound back and forth through a wooded area and had flowers and many trees. It was a pleasant painting of a country road.
One night after going to bed, my grandmother had trouble going to sleep. As she laid in bed, she looked out into the hallway. Suddenly, the painting started to glow like there was a light behind it. The painting started to "meld" and became more lifelike... There seemed to be a small breeze blowing because she could see the trees and flowers gently swaying. As she watched, she saw a motorcycle come upon the scene and it followed the curve of the road. As the motorcycle drove the road it came to a fork in the road. As it approached the fork, a semi truck also approached the fork (coming from opposite direction) and the two vehicles crashed. At this point, the glow behind the painting disappeared and it went back to normal.
Scared and shaking, she turned away from the door and tried to go to sleep. The next day they received a telegram. Her cousin, Willie, had died in an accident the night before. He was driving his motorcycle along the road and where the road came to a fork he hit a semi tractor trailer truck head-on and passed away. The accident occurred in a rural area on a country road.
When my grandmother found out what happened, she was shaken but she didn't tell her parents what she had seen because they were so strict. She was the youngest of the 2 children and her older sister was the favored one, so... She felt she would be ridiculed, punished and/or called a liar if she told.
The following is an incident that happened much later in her life and it was in my home that it happened.
My ex-husband, Joe, and I, were living in a small apartment with our two dogs, Prissy and T-Bone. The apartment was built onto the back of an old store building. There was a plate glass picture window on both sides of the front door in the front of the building. The front was used as a storage building for a guy who did light construction, and we rented the back half of the building. There was a connecting door in our bedroom that went from our part of the place to the front part but it was blocked off from that guys side. To get into the apartment, we drove into the driveway beside the building and used the steps at the rear of the building.
There had been some bad weather going on and we were expecting snow and possibly some ice. A lot of people lost power but we were fortunate that we did not. My grandmother lived alone in her own apartment but went and stayed with Momma and Daddy for the duration of the storm. I called Momma the morning after the storm hit and asked if they were okay and if they had power. They were fine but had lost power and was worried about my grandmother staying warm. I told her that we had power so if Daddy felt okay about bringing her over she could stay with us... We had plenty to eat and everybody was warm. So, Daddy brought her over and helped her inside and we got her settled. We only had one bedroom, so me and my grandmother slept in the king-sized bed that night and Joe slept on the couch.
The next morning, I woke up with my grandmother standing over me, bent over and looking down in my face... She scared the crap out of me! I sat up and said, "Granny, what's wrong?" She grabbed me by the hand and said "Come on, we've got to go!" She sounded really distraught... And I said, "Okay, where are we going?" She said, "I don't know but we've got to get out of here!" She kept tugging on me... So I got out of bed and I stood right in front of her. I said, "Granny, tell me what's wrong... Why do we have to leave?" She said, "They're everywhere!" I looked around the room and there was nothing astray... So I said, "What are you talking about?"
She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Can't you seem them all around the room?" I said "No, I don't see anything." She went on to describe a gruesome scene... Babies impaled on long, wooden spikes. The spikes went from the base of their buttocks and ran through their backs up through their heads. They were on spikes and leaned up against the wall all around the room. After she described in detail what she was seeing, I said "Okay... Let's go in the living room and sit down and I'll call Daddy to come get you so you can get out of here."
I got her settled on the couch and tried to distract her with the dogs... They were so protective of her and it warmed my heart... They followed her everywhere she went in that house and acted like a protective guard surrounding her... So I tried to distract her with them. I called Momma and told her what happened and then asked if they had power yet... They did, so I asked her if Daddy would come get her. She spooked me real bad with that... So Daddy came and got her and she stayed with them another night before going home.
I always thought it was odd that someone had lived in haunted house after haunted house... What are the odds of that happening unless you had a gift of seeing the paranormal? Because of this, for a long time I wondered if my grandmother had "the gift". I never asked her and even if she did I don't believe she ever would've told me... She was a Seventh-Day Adventist and was a firm believer. She never cursed and she never lied and I don't think she ever would've owned up to being able to see or communicate with ghosts/spirits.
At the time she stayed with us, she was also starting to have episodes that ended up being Alzheimer's so I also wonder if this was just one of those episodes.
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When my Brother passed away, I did the same. I cried every time I mentioned his name for 3 years straight. It is just, so unexpected, unfair and bewildering that we can't understand, conclude or verify the way it works, only, that it leaves us demolished and saddened.
The grief cycle made an incredible difference to the way I felt. At least now, when I felt depressed, I suddenly realized "I am very, very sad and, it's because my Brother passed away and I am in mourning".
My Brother was fit and energetic, he did body-building and played rugby (American Football is the equivalent in the USA). He had a big, red punching bag situated next to my bedroom window so when he would work-out, I would hear him on the punching bag. One day, shortly after he had passed, I was lying in bed depressed, crying in my pillow, and I started thinking... How unusually quiet is it? I don't hear the punching bag that used to drive me nuts! I would wake to this "doof" "doof" "doof", but now, it is just... Silence. I remember wishing so hard to hear it, so, I would know that he is at home, working out, and that he is alive and he is okay. I closed my eyes and wished and wished because I felt/thought that if I heard the punching bag, everything would disappear, it would mean that; he had never passed away, we had never had a funeral, I had never lost him and he was still alive and okay. The whole ordeal would reverse or... Cease to exist. So, I understand when you talk about denial or bargaining. Just - please, please if I hear him then this would never have happened. Just - please, if I hear him then it means that he's okay and he's come back and I can talk to him and spend time with him.
One of the good things that I can tell you about somebody passing is that it is in your hands how to go about deciding how to deal with it. Not initially afterwards, no then you are in a lot of pain and shock. But, when you finally start mentally processing that he/she is gone and you realize that your feelings are normal, many people have gone through this and there is help available to you in the form of friends, family and support groups. Many psychiatrists and psychologists have worked on methods to help people like us. Also, what I realised is that nobody can "make" me feel - something. My Brother loved me very much and our "bond", our "relationship" is what matters and absolute, at the end of the day. After my Brother passed away, some of my family said that I didn't show enough emotion. Meanwhile I was showing a lot of despondency. But, I never let what they said upset me because, I know exactly how I felt/feel; what he meant to me and what I feel/felt while going through it.
My Mother does the same bargaining that you do. They had an argument before he left that day and later, passed away. I was with him for the time before he left. And... I can tell you with certainty that; DEFINITELY; what ever problems, anger and disputes or grudges my Brother and Mother had, he absolutely loved her and cherished their relationship until his dying day and after that, forevermore. It is "us", the ones who are left behind that struggle and worry about the old 'fight' or disagreement/s and ask the same questions again and again. They, 'the people' who are gone, only see the truths in life with clear vision & 20/20 hindsight, And he sees how much you worry about him and cry, and wish for an opportunity to resolve things. He knows this, and he is in a better place and at peace.
But, he does not have a way to give you peace or talk to you, so, you give him peace by being at peace because then he knows you are okay. He would not want you worrying yourself or doing this to yourself, he would want you to be happy and know that he is safe, happy & peaceful. If he could talk to you, this is mostly likely what he would say.